Bored and hot on a steamy Sunday afternoon, Amy and I took a walk to William’s Pub in uptown yesterday afternoon to partake of their fantastic $1 burger special. Somewhere along the way, we must’ve been spotted by The Association’s esteemed and inebriated treasurer and caretaker. They kindly saw to berating their humble president’s attire, but what am I supposed to wear? It’s summer! And I’ll be damned if anyone disses the visor.
It was a gift, and of highly sentimental and utilitarian value. Oh yeah, and it’s snowboarding, not skiing. Not to mention that I don’t know the first thing about knitting.
Lastly: Eddie, if you’re going to get Joe drunk, make sure he gets home safe. He’s a scary sight pounding shirtless on the front door and yelling at midnight on Sunday.
I wasn’t the one feeding him the liquor and beer like water. I was terrified of any of them spewing in the Element.
And regards to dissin’ the visor. Shouldn’t your name be stitched on backwards? Or is it’s use more along the lines of “If lost, please return NICK to X place”?
I do think that if you persist in wearing it, you should let your hair grow out in a Robert-Smith-meets-Texas-Cheerleader-Mom kinda way. It would tremendous.
We all know that you are lying about the knitting. I have seen furiously shleppin’ away at the large multi-colored sweater for Amy.