Long ago we used to meet up on New Years at 7 am, rain, sleet or snow for a wake up run, and then champagne shoot. What's a champagne shoot? Kind of like peeing for distance, but with champagne corks. Nuff said. We'd sit on the steam grate, and cook our nether regions and freeze the top parts while getting a wee bit tipsy on bubbles.
Now that we're old, decreptit and pudgy, we go to my friend Therese's house and run and then eat like kings in her posh riverfront condo.
Somehow its just not the same. You still get people who bring cheap ass bubbles that aren't drinkable, but without the danger of getting busted (like we would ever get busted), or the fun of near freezing/3rd degree burns, it just doesn't quite get it.
Plus, running downtown is just not as friendly as running by U of R. That guy who swerved over and tried to make me his hood ornament kind of proved that. Good thing I was well trained to jump first when someone yells, "MOVE!!!!" and ask questions later. Otherwise, "Mr. I'm just getting home from drinking all night and cant see the hood of my car" might have had a few issues with the boys in blue. (not to mention a really bad day for me.)
One thing that Therese is going to have to stop doing is making those darn little pigs in blankets. Yeah, so cute... so deadly. I get them one time a year. Little piggies, cresent blankets, honey mustard... Geez, stop me before I start drooling again. I can wipe out a platter of them in a second. Like J says, step away from the piggies...
I hope your New Year started off with a bang. We're off to do trail maintenance and to run the dogs. Quiet is GOOD.
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