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Saturday, September 15, 2012

 
I should've known better than to go out on this day that's been weirder than any other so far, but foresight is something I'm severely lacking in.
I had plans to make today the day I got the cheese I've been searching for because I can't find a smoked cheddar in this town to save my life, which should be a crime in Wisconsin. I hiked the three miles to the cheese store in the fancy part of town to the cheese store populated by FIBs. They've got a passable smoked cheddar, but not the one I'm looking for. From there, I looked at the river downtown to watch rowers row down the channels and I was jealous because I can't do that. I can't grip anything with my stroke side, even when I want to. After watching the chicks rowing long boats, I hit the spice store to find that they sell the mystery ingredient I spent twenty minutes trying to find at the grocery store the other day. The extra time made my bro and I spend more money because we found things we didn't know we could find. My bro found Jammy Dodgers and I found malt vinegar ketchup, which tastes better than I hoped and I found that I can get treacle, so I can make food that I never counted on making.
After all that walking, I turned around to go home and decided along the way to try to stop for the brewery tour that assures you'll get drunk for cheap but they were full for the day on drop-ins, so I walked all the way back home to eat tamales and watch a bad episode of Doctor Who.
I went to the bar to partake in the "game show" which takes cues from my favorite Saturday morning NPR shows when a dude I went to high school with spotted me and spoke for too long about stupid shit. He apparently lives a block away from me, which is weird to me because this is a guy that the girls in my class would have cut a boob off to date in our day. Finding out he lives in this neighborhood makes me feel like less of a failure in life.
After my peeber at that shitty bar, I went to the dive bar to get the two for five Schlitz deal and, while working on the second, my new friend pops in to tell me that he got kicked out of the mexican restaurant at closing time and that he was drunk and that there's a hot blonde that works at this bar. "Thanks, but this cute redhead served me Schlitz, so I'm good. Blondes have a history of treating me like shit, and there's a brunette that works on Fridays that knocks me out." I'm kinda hoping I don't run into that guy again.As good as it makes me feel that he's as big a piece of crap as me, I don't need a drinking buddy. Me and my Schlitz are good alone or accompanied by whiskey.


said Tommy T. at 11:58 PM - #
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