That's Dad bbqing a tri-tip, looking for a top up.
Saw Typhoon Babb in his Oregon Ducks uniform (#69) drinking a 7 & 7 at Bleachers Pub and Grill. He was playing pool with fellow Spartan alum Pat K on New Years's Day. What an exciting thrill!
Bleachers is a beerhole that serves top shelf brandy liqueur on demand if the Blazers get to within ten points of their opponents with six minutes to play in the fourth quarter. The brandy was my idea. I am not no coach so every little bit counts. We had nachos and wings and it was delightfully sloppy. But the Blazers lost.
I texted Tim the next day and waited to hear from him and waited some more. After wondering why he hadn't texted me back, I actually became quite cross, then I remembered! I had thrown his phone in the river on NYE. We went and saw the Pierced Arrows that night, Fred and Toody's post-Dead Moon project. I had succumbed to the Canadian Hunter a little too savagely by this point. I prowled the merch desk, enamored with the buttons they had on display for a $1, but I couldn't buy anything because I had left my wallet at Tim's house.
Left a lot of things behind the last few days. Left my credit card at Bleachers. Went and watched the football game at John and Tami's yesterday. Left my phone there.
Tim gave me his leather jacket because he's been looking for someone to give it to and I happened to have the right build, so he insisted! It's a really nice jacket! What a guy! The thing is the pockets in new jackets throw me off and I always think I know where things are, but in actuality I don't. Therefore I am constantly leaving stuff behind. In likelihood this pattern will continue for the next few weeks.
My New Years resolution will involve getting a driver's license, I think.
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