Sam is my friend.  He's been my friend for two and a half years. 

I remember the first time I met him I felt awkward because I said the "Sam I am" thing and he called me an unoriginal bastard.  Then he ran down 4 flights of stairs with a chair taped to him and a collar that said "Trina's bitch" on it... at least I think it was "Trina's bitch."  Weird how that worked out, huh?

Sam is the only person who can actually contend with my hair.  It must be a Welsh thing.

Sam is one of the funniest people I know.

Sam is a man of contradictions.  Hyper but ultra-laid back.  It's weird, but it's freakishly accurate.

Sam helped us build the super cool living room fort and even lent a light thingy that we never used.

Sam makes fun of me on a daily basis.

Sam refuses to believe in Cinnahutts.  He used to not believe in Icees either, but there was clear evidence of that so he had to admit its existence.

Sam has driven me home plenty of times.  Except that one time that Jul's did.  But then Jul's took the "scenic route," otherwise known as the "forgot to turn down Bronson route."  I should have gone with Sam.

Sam's dad was from the same area that I'm from.  Sam has seen Jumbo.

Sam has made me laugh so hard I've cried.

I crashed in on his and Trina's Valentines dinner.  CLING! (remember that?)

Sam and I share an appreciation of doppelgangers.

We used to nap together in a room of 300 or so people, otherwise known as first year film class.

Sam was hurt that I did not include him on my best friends list on a previous blog.  I'm sorry Sam.  I fixed the entry and now you are the only friend out of all of my friends (all 7 of them) to have a full length blog entry about them.

Sam turns 20 on the 28th.  Expect a card.