Perhaps it offends your delicate sensibilities so I should explain. I play - in the sense that I mostly run around in circles and fall down - ultimate frisbee. Earlier this year my winter league team (Joy Huck Club, we're adorable) was debating whether or not to start the tournament in a higher bracket, playing a team we would surely lose to. I proposed this as a possible cheer in the case that we were totally shut out at the half or something. In any case - perhaps motivated by the potential discomfort of shouting such a phrase - we managed to score and it has yet to be employed by JHC. Diesel set up this blog for me as a birthday present so I am loathe to change the title though it may result in me never receiving tenure. So I'll keep it. And I'd like to offer it up to all of you as a rally cry for obstacles of your daily life (which, given how much I prattle on about my mundane daily doings, is likely what this blog will mostly consist of). Whether it be writers block, um, scoring, or the total inability to choose which granola you want in the bulk foods section of the Co-op, may you break the proverbial hymen.
1 comment:
There is no freaken way you ate 23 waffles
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