Woke up, got outta bed, ran a comb across my head- and biked up to the Hollingsworth estate to meet up for an short run. Chatted w/ Lebeau afterward, played the didgeridoo, and did a few strides which didn't feel particularly good but the fritter at The King made up for that. Splendid weather today, I can't think of many things I'd rather do besides celebrate one hundred years of statehood but I contained my enthusiasm and set a goal for the marathon, after talking trash with my German buddy, that I would beat Dieter Baumann's latest marathon performance without the aid of magic toothpaste and spectacles.
That would be the theme for last night's outing to OKC with der boys. The trend of feeling off continues to overwhelm and I can't help but chalk it up to the "smorgasboard effect." Contemporary wisdom tells us that fusion is all the rage and who am I to blow against the wind? At some point however, I think that can lead to an assemblage frought with gastronomic peril and, worse, something that gives little Scotty D a tummy ache. Cue the scene, we had put down a few stouts and pale ales prior to departure from Stu's. I, of course, was lauded for my incredible driving ability over the perhaps 2 mile route to Cheever's. Upon arrival we ordered a couple bottles of vino and some apps. I think this is where the trouble began. The first combo would be the Malbec/Hummus/Fried Calamari/Pinot combo only to be outdone by the proceeding Merlot/Nacho/Pecan, Chocolate,& Ice Cream Ball conglomeration. Stu knew something was up and opted for a jog back to the house where ...
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