No, I am not going to Lebanon anymore. Yes, my Syrian visa will go unused, as it expires at the end of September. And I know, my blog is out of date.

(Also, I'm in Norway, okay?)

Over two months I've been gone now, and I'm still doing more than fine, money-wise. Chalk it up to being a tightwad: Eating (extremely) poorly, staying in zero-star accomodations whenever possible, taking AH tour (the Fat Tire Bike Tour of Berlin, which is a must in a city that size), cutting out old habits that hit the wallet hard about once a week, and mastering the art of the "self-invite."

There's an old saying -- applicable to the current situation among Sunni Arab governments' changing outlook on Israel, Iran and the Lebanese situation -- that says, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Then, there's a new saying, coined by me: "The friend of my friend is my friend." Put that one in your fortune cookie and eat it.

That's how I have my home base in Switzerland. That's how I turned my stay in Cologne from three nights to eight, yet paid for zero nights of lodging -- if you don't count the 79€ I threw down for the three days reggae music at SummerJam. But most recently, that's how I slept, drank and ate for free in Norway for the entire month of August thus far.

Thanks to the Lorentzen/Kleppe/etc. family's unending supply of hospitality, I have been chillin' like a major villain here off the west coast of Bergen since arriving August 2 -- and that was after a night in James and Sissy Lorentzen's MTV Crib in Oslo.

Like a lot of other things I am good at, the self-invite took very little practice to master. As with talking loudly, interrupting people, wearing Indian costumes to Virginia sporting events and writing columns about your father's puss-spewing back-cyst, all you need to become a pro at the self-invite is an astonishing lack of shame.

"Oh, you know someone with a house in Spain? Cool, yeah, I love Spain." (Three second pause, eyes avoiding contact with those of your new friend, as you wait to make your next move). "Can I stay with them?"

For y'all back home in Texas, I know, it is crazy that someone would say "no" to that. Some people are just jerks.

But I mean, who cares? What's the worst that could happen? Someone says "no"? I was five-feet tall going into ninth grade, and had asked a girl or two to go out with me by then -- trust me, I'm used to that word.

Besides, what's the best that could happen?

"Sure! Stay as long as you'd like!"

Don't mind if I do! What's for dinner?

Self-inviting, since I arrived in Cologne for SummerJam July 11, has been responsible for 18 free nights of lodging. Eighteen! And I'm slated to squeeze my current victims, an uber-welcoming Norwegian family that used to live in Houston (that's inside the loop, thankyou very much), for a 19th tomorrow night, back in Oslo. Shouldn't I just stretch the shot off the wall for a double to make it an even 2o, before heading back to Chez Knapp and the Swiss home base to add even more to the tally?

That is how you save money, guys. Sure, a tent would have made my wallet even fatter at this point, but I made a mistake and didn't bring one. Even so, 18. Give me some credit. That makes at least ten fewer times that I have had to cringe and do the internal "S**t, I have to go to the ATM again," self-flagellation routine.

Tomorrow, I leave this island for Oslo. There, I will spend mucho tiempo getting my small core of blog-followers back up to speed on the life and times of Billy Perejil. There's a lot to look forward to: the Danish shower system, Copenhagen bike thievery, canine death, why microwaves are evil, a modern-day plague from YHWH, and much, much more. Stay posted.

p.s. I JUST READ THAT BORAT IS COMING OUT WITH A NEW MOVIE SOON, HOLY GOD