To get it out of the way, this is the biggest failure of a pastry in history. At least I have something to blame now.
Saturday was a big mess. Hot dogs, beer, illicit puffing, bacon fries that I resisted for far too long (damn it, Emily), the most boring Ohio State football game in recent memory, and plenty of JOHN SHAFT was the order of the day. It's kind of a blur, as most trips to Renkes' house are (for various reasons), but it was fun spending the afternoon with Chops.
The real adventure began about halfway through Shaft in Africa, as it was determined that Andrew had to go back to his house and get his insulin. With no car available to him and Old Renkes continuing to down beer while assuring Andrew that he'd take him when he sobered up, Andrew's only recourse was to walk. From Northern Lights. All the way to his place. I quickly volunteered to go with, as it both afforded me an opportunity to escape, and allowed me to prevent my good friend from being killed. So it was that we traversed Cleveland Avenue all the way to Hudson, largely without incident. A panhandler or two would approach us, but as is the case with most panhandlers, they're not into straying from their territory just to chase down a particular mark. From Hudson and Cleveland, it was up to 4th, and man did I have to pee. There are no fights, flipping cars, or any kinds of excitement in this story, so the inner struggle of me versus my bladder will have to pass for a climax. Anyway, we both made it home just fine, but the point is, we could have been killed by hoodlums. We repeatedly congratulated ourselves on being such awesome, brave dudes, and with good reason. We had survived.
It was, in fact, considerably less harrowing than this.
The Browns won again. It wasn't a big accomplishment or anything. It was @ Cleveland, for one thing. It was against the winless Dolphins for another. 3-3 isn't too bad though. I wish I could say the same for the Bengals' dismal 1-4 tally. I don't know what's up with that team this year. I utterly failed a blatant attempt at trolling Cody last night. I was trying to bait him into flipping out by insisting to him that the Browns would beat the Cowboys (his team). He did not bite. I was quite sad. I'm pretty sure the Cowboys and Browns would be a pretty high scoring spectacle, though I'd fully expect the Dallas lads to take it. I can hear Andrew right now with his fantastic beard, reacting badly to my prediction.
Sorry for my day off yesterday. I sat down to write and just had nothing. The 33 day mark is daunting indeed. I don't know that I'll ever equal it. Sometimes things are flowing, and other times... well, other times it's like working on a beet farm.
As usual, I nailed the segue.
1 comment:
It's always the deadly games of cat and mouse that'll get you.
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