And it was an SOB. That pretty much captures the way of my day.
I started things off with the Friday group hike. I selected our route, which included one modest mandatory climb and an optional visit to the top of Black Rock. I had in mind a long valley walk at the end, but in a concession to the heat, we took a shortcut that shaved a kilometer or two off our intended path.
It was just under 8K for me, and I was soaked. I’ll be just as wet come the rainy season, but I’ll be a lot cooler. Hurry your ass up, Mother Nature!
The days are hot and humid, which also creates hazy skies. This view from my patio reflects that:
Then it was time to head into town for the Sons of Baccus dance competition at the Green Room. I went early to get good seats, and Swan joined me just before the show started.
I liked the Whiskey Girl performance the best, with Green Room a close second.
I’m usually in sync with the other judges, and I understand that the home team usually has an advantage (the home team has won the past four weeks in a row). Last night, the final tally came out like this:
1st Place: Green Room
2nd Place: Voodoo
3rd Place: Whiskey Girl
4th Place: Alaska
So, I don’t know if I fucked Voodoo out of first by not listing them at all on my ballot or not. I feel shitty about it either way, and I will punish myself by declining to judge in the future. Sorry about that, girls.
We went home directly after the show having had too much of a good thing already.
Where did Facebook take me on the stroll down memory lane today?
Let’s get the Quora Q&A bullshit out of the way:
Q: How did your husband react when you told him you were pregnant?
A: Well, I can’t pass up the opportunity to tell my story. I was not married to her at the time, but we did eventually marry.
So, I was 19, and she was 17. We had been dating for a while. I had just gotten a German Shepherd puppy. Anyway, I picked her up from work, and while we were still in the parking lot, she told me the news: I’m pregnant.
I responded like any rational man would do: Damn it! If I knew you were going to get pregnant I wouldn’t have got the dog!
All’s well that ends well. I got to experience the joy of raising my sweet daughter. And I kept the dog, too!
And that was what led to marriage #1. It lasted six years before she said, “I don’t want to be a wife and a mother anymore.” So, my journey as a single father with sole custody of my two kids began. Until I found wife #2. But that’s another story for another day.
Today’s humor is a little more nasty than usual. You’ve been warned!
I’ll tell y’all about today, tomorrow. Y’all come back now, hear?
Those wheelchairs in the woods must be a bitch to take up and down hills.
Yeah, I’ve helped gals like her pay the bills. Mutually taking care of our needs.
Hopefully, you’re now out of the scuzzy period of your life.
re: SOB judging
As long as no one else finds out, I imagine you’re in the clear. But there are locals who do read your blog…
I hope so, too. Transactional sex is nearly as satisfying as the real thing.
I felt so bad about it that I talked to Daddy Dave (sponsor of the SOB) and showed him my screwup. I said if my mistake cost the Voodoo gals first place money, I wanted to compensate them for it. He said let me go to the office and check the results. He came back with the tally of the judge’s scores and said if Voodoo had received my vote, it would not have changed the overall standings. What a relief it was to hear that!