Bad news, kids: looks like the bus down to the Wellfleet Beachcomber isn't happening for Friday's show. Apparently, the only bus available will blow up if it drops below 50 miles per hour. So sorry - you're going to have to burn up your share of fossil fuels in your own individual death traps. Don't let the fuel costs discourage you: it's worth choking a few spotted owls with your car's exhaust pipe to see Scamper rock alongside Rocketscience and Hooray for Earth. This show will be seeeeeerious fun. And rumor has it that Nate is offering piggy back rides once you get to the beach.
Continuing the mooching discussion, last night I took advantage of the tried and true "drink way more than my share of beers at the company softball game" model of cheap inebriation. The humidity was making me thiiiiiiiiiirsty. Why not add a dehydrating agent to my already sweat-soaked carcass, eh? That sounds healthy.
Luckily for my team, beer apparently has the same effect on my arms as flat-chested gangly chicks has on Popeye's guns, because I was absolutely jacking the ball. I hit two homeruns and was robbed of a third by a spectacular catch in centerfield. A two homerun game! Sure our team lost by one run in the last inning, but the team result was by far overshadowed by my stunning individual achievement. I repeat: a two homerun game! I was like Albert freakin' Poo-Holes. Except much much poorer. And giggly-ass drunk.
But this little story raises the question: is there anything sadder than a near-thirty-year old man taking so much pleasure in such a dubious athletic achievement? A two homerun game in an office softball league is literally the athletic highlight of my life. I'm still beaming from it. There can't be anything sadder than that, can there? I mean, anything?
Continuing the mooching discussion, last night I took advantage of the tried and true "drink way more than my share of beers at the company softball game" model of cheap inebriation. The humidity was making me thiiiiiiiiiirsty. Why not add a dehydrating agent to my already sweat-soaked carcass, eh? That sounds healthy.
Luckily for my team, beer apparently has the same effect on my arms as flat-chested gangly chicks has on Popeye's guns, because I was absolutely jacking the ball. I hit two homeruns and was robbed of a third by a spectacular catch in centerfield. A two homerun game! Sure our team lost by one run in the last inning, but the team result was by far overshadowed by my stunning individual achievement. I repeat: a two homerun game! I was like Albert freakin' Poo-Holes. Except much much poorer. And giggly-ass drunk.
But this little story raises the question: is there anything sadder than a near-thirty-year old man taking so much pleasure in such a dubious athletic achievement? A two homerun game in an office softball league is literally the athletic highlight of my life. I'm still beaming from it. There can't be anything sadder than that, can there? I mean, anything?
14 Comments:
Brendo's on steroids!
I scored four touchdowns in a single game! Go Polk High!!
No.
Wait. Yes.
A two homer softball game is not sad, it is super cool, especially for someone your age.
The fact that Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson tying the knot is a headline on CNN.com. That is sad.
... especially for someone your age.
Ha HA! Well played, my anonymous friend. Well done.
Brendo's on steroids!
Only one way to be sure.. someone check Brendo's testicles!
Only one way to be sure.. someone check Brendo's testicles!
Well Henry, is he or isn't he?
Could I have a look around?
hee hee. pujols sounds like POO-HOLES. thanks for the unintentional shout-out, frendo.
Well Henry, is he or isn't he?
I'm not checking him! Not for free anyway.
Two homers is impressive. Nicely done, Booger. Crap! I meant Boogie.
I'm not checking him! Not for free anyway.
Since when?!
> Nicely done, Booger. Crap! I meant Boogie.
HAHAHA! Oh how my son would say: "Biiiiiiiig booger!"
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