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Cathoholic Good Times

Wednesday, June 14th, 2006

Wednesday

Quote of the Day: “I was at this casino minding my own business, and this guy came up to me and said, ‘You’re gonna have to move, you’re blocking a fire exit.’ As though if there was a fire, I wasn’t gonna run. If you’re flammable and have legs, you are never blocking a fire exit.”

- Mitch Hedburg

OK, no more fooling around. I went with the full 1 ½ hours of running today and you know what? It sucked! OK, that’s all I’ll say but I was glad to get back up to that distance even though I was very tired for the rest of the day.

We stayed an extra day in STL because there was a “picnic” that Weezer was all psyched to go to and she sent me this picture along with a request to stay the extra day.

So, what could I do?

The reason I put picnic in quotes above is because like many things in STL, the name does not convey the reality. It was not a picnic. No little baskets of food that friendly bears try to swipe, no ants that spell out “food” when they find the goodies. Nope, it was not a picnic. It was a carnival set up by the Catholic school the Weezer attends, complete with carnies with small hands.

What cracked me up was that Catholic being Catholic, there was not only the booths of little games and the lame little rides, but also plenty of beer to be had and pull tabs. You know, so the churchgoers can maybe win a few bucks off of pull tabs to get another beer. Nothing like teaching the kids early about gambling and alcohol.

They shut down the entire street in front of the school and set up the carnival, excuse me, the “picnic” in the middle of the street and for prizes, they used donated items so you would see people walking around with canned goods and boxes of potato flakes. And plenty of gossip you see in such a small community; plenty of talk about who was doing what to whom and so on. Reputations, rumors, you know, all the good church topics.

I fared pretty well considering it was hot as hell (excuse the reference) and I was very tired. It was walking distance from Killjoy’s house so when I got too tired or hot, I wandered back to her apartment and got on the computer. In reality, I wanted to crash on her bed with all my sweaty clothes on which I knew would send her into a berserk freak-out session if she knew, as witnessed when I inadvertently committed this sin yesterday. Seems Killjoy draws a very thick line between laying on her bed with sleeping clothes and street clothes.

At home, my bed gets used more than the couch. I eat, read, nap, relax, play with Buster, etc. on our bed so the “no street clothes on the bed” protocol was unknown to me until I was crass enough to commit the crime.

Just another item of contention for me and Killjoy as we continued to do the cat and dog bit. I think Carrie and the kids are growing weary of it. But it was her house, her rules, so I respected her wishes, as mind-blowingly neurotic as they can sometimes be.

For dinner, we went to Chimichungas. Carrie drank a margarita that would burst into flame if she got it near a match. She had about ¼ inch of it and was lit like a Christmas tree. Killjoy also partook so there I was, babysitting two drunk women and two very amused kids.

At least that’s how I remember it. Killjoy will probably comment to the contrary but who are you going to believe, me or the drunkard?

Free Advice for Today: “Book still packed. When will you get the hint?.”

- Me

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