Going forward, you will often want to click the title in order to receive certain background information regarding the text of the BRC.
Ick ,my skin crawls just typing those first two words.
Fourteen hours round trip in two days, now that is what I call making it happen. Back in time for a quiet rainy Friday morning?
Even better.
I’m on the wagon. That’s right, you read it correctly, and I am learning some things.
There are a lot more hours in the day when you don’t have to schedule in drinking beer and defending your title on the dart board/ping pong table/chess board/ every single night of your life. I’m out like Justine Henin-Hardin.
Simple pleasures are simply pleasant, like waking up for no good reason at 6:30 in the morning to pet the cat and listen to how quiet the world is at that hour.
I can once again begin plotting for total dominance next season.
And now, the round up.
Bushy and Tommy Torso are headed off to Tsali for the 6 hour solo event today. Neither of them has ever ridden the trail. They will essentially unload their bikes and leap into competition on unknown terrain, the way the good Lord intended.
S’quatch is already bailing out for the weekend calling a “cinemical” due to the Tallahassee Film Festival. This heralds a new boom epoch in the proliferation of excuses.
Mystery and I double dog swear that we are going to put in some heavy miles this weekend.
Stop laughing, you are hurting my feelings!
That’s all I got. I’m out of touch.
Report in?
Juancho
So you’re not drinking, not playing board and pub games, and not going to Tsali. No golf, either?
Failing all that, it’s raining today, so Munson tomorrow? You know the number.
This British ass seems to have no idea where the phrase “on the wagon” comes from. Of the choices he trots out, I like the trip back to jail best, but still say the whole thing is up for grabs.
Here’s my entry: I think it comes from the Pioneer Days, when Granpa was so stinky from his likker they made him ride and sleep up up on top of the covered wagon. They even had a seat fixed up there for him, and he couldn’t come back into the wagon, proper, until he’d dried out.
It was the wagon train version of keel hauling — it was HOT up there on that wagon and a man could develop a powerful thirst for nothing more than a tin cup of water.
Yup, like most of our food-speak oddities comes from the Normans, most of our drink-speak phrases comes from the Irish.
So you’re not drinking? (you’re going to hear this a lot) I’ve thought about doing the same, but then I want a beer. I’ve instead cut back considerably on my drinking as a true honor to the ancient dogma of “Nothing to Extreme”. I get to wake up early (6:30 aint nuttin’ brah), I get to avoid DUI widgets, and I enjoy a drink most importantly.
Hopefully, instead of (what alcoholics call) a moment of clarity, you will now have much more than a moment. We’ll be tempting you so make sure you mind your P’s and Q’s (minding your ‘p’ints and ‘q’uarts was a barman’s statement of moderation and care during a night of drinking and during the occasional fight, lest you break the glasses.)
I learn so much from reading this blog.
You had a chess crown?
Perhaps sobriety could help you polish it up a little?
If you’re not spending your nights carousing in boozy camaraderie, as I always like to imagine, then perhaps you could assert your claims this week.
http://www.freechess.org.
C.T.
I’ll ass-ert my claims this week, just you wait.
Shipped the kid off to Atlanta for the weekend and the wife suggested an overnighter on the San Blas Preserve. Damn, I love that woman. Leaving Saturday morning when we wake up.
Good for you. We will all meet you there. Bring extra stuff.