I could pretty much just repeat the exact same post and have most of it be true. But I wouldn't do that because that is just some lazy writing. I have a reputation to uphold. Instead, I'll add some extra stories in which I embarrass myself!
Ok, the burgers were the same ones as last year. Well, not literally because the meat would have gone bad long before today, but they were the same Big Y patties. This year I believe Dad did the grilling, but they were still nicely cooked and there was still tomato (exciting) and lettuce (not so exciting). This year also featured cantaloupe and a wide variety of mayonnaise-based salads such as macaroni salad, potato salad, and a salad I couldn't be bothered to identify since there was no chance I was eating any of them as mayonnaise is gross. They were good burgers and I was actually successful in eating both of the ones I attempted. This sort of makes up for yesterday's embarrassment. There was also Summer Ale, so I knocked a few of those back as a matter of course. Unfortunately (or possibly fortunately for my liver), I am 89 behind last year's pace. Still easily going to reach a ridiculously high total though, so don't worry yourself about that.
On to the funny stories!!
So yesterday I lost my cheese privileges after slicing my finger open cutting some cheddar for a pre-burger snack. It was still oozing a little this morning, which can't be good. And yes, I realize the irony of writing about food and then immediately following it up with blood. The good news is that Kathryn finished up the cutting and the cheese was delicious, so the only downside was the amount of Band-Aids I'm currently going through.
You ever play FIFA video games? I haven't since 2002, and I now suck at them. Terribly. It's just sad. I can tell you, however, the number of red cards you can get before you forfeit the game. Four is ok, but the fifth one crosses the line. Also, apparently you are not allowed to slide tackle people from behind when they don't have the ball. Sissies.
We also played some basketball in the driveway. Well, my brothers played and I wandered around the court occasionally grabbing a rebound or poking the ball away for a steal. And any time I was on offense, you better believe I was shooting the ball every time I got it. I was like George "Chucker" Costanza. And every single shot, I yelled out "Hand down, man down" like Mark Jackson when he announces the NBA games. It turns out that yelling things is not an effective way to get the ball into the hoop. I learned a lot today.
-Jon
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