What is it about nice people that attract total idiots?Nice people are martyrs. Idiots are evangelists.

SOCK IT TO ME BABY!!!

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Yes, yes, still alive

I think the OT hours are starting to get at me, though... just not the energy for witticisms I usually have (been saving them for comments on Bobby's blog, doncha know).  So while we all try to figure out why "doncha" didn't earn me a squiggly line -at least, not until I put quotation marks around it- let me try to catch things up.


********************************************

The untold story:  After the outing Saturday that ended with Peanut's arrival, we all- me, Laurie, KC, Jessica, Peanut, and Shenan- went out to eat.  Well, they ate.  I had a full stomach and was looking only to add a little barley pop to it.  Bagger Dave's was the opener, and I had a Yuengling,  the younger girls had some margarita-ish thing that required the biting into a flower of some Chinese dandelion thing to make it taste better, and KC tried the "Silencer"- basically a modified Long Island with moonshine.  Then KC ordered a sampler flight.  Three of the local brews weren't too bad, but the fourth, an Amber ale, resisted any efforts to make it taste good, including cutting it with the other beers.  It would wrestle them down and become something still worse each time.


Returning the non-alcoholic Laurie home to rest after her hard days work, we then took Peanut and Mom back to the Martin 2.0 mansion while we devised a plan for our own further debauchery.  Without giving you the whole story, here's the highlights:

-Before leaving, a grandpa who will remain nameless left an air biscuit so powerful that the house had to be abandoned- with Peanut trapped inside...

How prophetic...

- KC deciding to get a shot of some whiskey called 2 Gingers (actually a double shot at this place) that hammered him bad enough to slow his beer intake- leading us to tease him- leading him to plead, "Hey, I'm the one who has to drive"- leading Shenan and I to serenade him with "There's a tear in my beer"...

- Watching the Kentucky Derby, for which we had all picked horses back at Bagger Dave's.  Laurie took Always Dreaming, who won the race.  I took Thunder Snow.  And what happened to Thundersnow?

A curious thing happened when the gun sounded to start the 143rd edition of the Kentucky Derby on Saturday — only 19 of the 20 horses decided to run. The straggler, an Irish-bred colt named Thunder Snow, decided to pretend it was a rodeo and attempt to buck his jockey off his back.

While at first spectators feared Thunder Snow may have sustained an injury, veterinarians later confirmed all was well. The UAE Derby winner simply appeared, despite his name, to want nothing to do with the muddy track.

Track vet said Thunder Snow was examined and had no sign of injuries.


That's right.  I picked the DNF.


- Going back to the parking garage for the car, I managed to trip over a curb and fall flat on my face- about 15 yards from a cop sitting in his patrol car.

-Finishing the evening by regaling Laurie with apparently all the evening's exploits- despite telling myself in the morning that I was happy at least I had some stories to tell Laurie.  The only thing I missed was the trolley-cycle full of Brewers fans pedalling through downtown yelling, "Cubs Suck!" at anyone who'd listen.


A trolley cycle
*************************************************

Now that that's done, how about some pictures?


Scrappy dragging me back into the no-man's land just at the bend of the trail- he smells something important...

...OR another dead possum.

Three Jacks, together, I call them the Lennon Sisters.

I don't CARE if you wanna play the M10 for Mommy!  It's time to WALK!




And here's PFW, always in favor of whatever it takes to kill off foliage and cause erosion
It WAS the cutest little Jack.  Why is it leaning?  Just before I could take the picture Scrappy WALKED on it.  He's a real photobum!

The three leaves made it look like Jack's pulpit was the base of a cross.  How cool...

Into the cool of the wood...

8 comments:

  1. Chris:
    ---And I DO appreciate the wit you provide daily.
    ---That "girly" drink sounded nasty...anything dandelionish is a no-go with me...heh.
    ---Bob's rule of "bad" beer - cut it with ginger ale, 7-up, or (if tradition beckons)...lemonade...a SHANDY.
    ---Please tell me you didn't buy Peanut that shirt...LOL.
    ---(note to self: Don't let Chris pick horses if we ever get to a track).
    ---Tripped near a cop...definitely not in my book of social graces.
    ---trolley-cycle...everyone peddling their legs off to give their butts a ride. How novel.
    ---When Scrappy calls...you gotta answer.
    ---great picture of that goose.
    ---Those jacks are something I never saw back east.
    very good post (and walk).

    Stay safe (and no air-biscuits for infants) up there, brother.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Did the Trolley Cycle in Austin last year. What a hoot. Which ended up with us singing, "New York, New York" at the top of our lungs in a rush hour traffic jam.
    The Texans weren't impressed, for some reason.

    ReplyDelete
  3. It sounds like you had a blast! And well deserved at that. I can sympathize with the horse. I don't like to get my feet muddy either. Or like to walk on wet grass. Gross!

    Elsie Amata

    ReplyDelete
  4. Sounds like a fun time, except for picking the wrong horse. Thoroughbreds can be so skittish! We're fans of harness racing, where Trotters can be equally frustrating, breaking stride and falling to the back. Scrappy is a lucky dog, to have such a dedicated dad. ☺ I always enjoy your photos. Cheers!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Legend says that I had an uncle Ambrose on Mom's side who was a sulky racer, but my only contact is through the Black Stallion and Island Stallion books back in grade school, lol!

      Delete
  5. Glad you're ok from the fall off the curb and that you didnt get a ticket for Public Intoxication. :)
    Hope you didnt have much money down on your horse gamble!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. A few years back a cop got his pp slapped for hanging around downtown on Friday and Saturday nights following drunks from bar to bar. He somehow parleyed it into enough salary to be one of the highest paid civil servants in town! After the paper did an expose on Ofc. Bonar (pronounced "BONE-er" by locals), the FWPD kind of got back to the drunks will be drunks mode.

      Delete