Shockingly, this was my first pairing of beer and breakfast in this life. There’s long been a parallel rocket race to determine which one will be the first to undermine what’s left of my pre middle age physique. Yesterday their forces combined in what proved to be a revelatory experience. With a side of tater tots to boot! AND followed in less than an hour by a shared (with a pregnant lady) Krispy Kreme unit of satisfaction. That was the beer and the baby talking. They demanded MORE sweet refined carbohydrates. More superfuel to provide me with the vigor-sustaining nutrients and calories I’d need to:
Fit into the the back of that god forsaken swedish designed cargo hold. I am not a box of unassembled ikea furniture, my egg-and-beer filled physique kept reminding me. SLAM! I’d forgotten how heavy the rear hatches of Volvo wagons are. They must be made of the precious heavy minerals GI Joe and Cobra were always fighting over at the bottom of the sea to build a better super-weapon/indestructible station wagon. Or was that heavy water?
Eventually I was unpacked and re-assembled and set adrift with a band of merry, if over- dramatic, river revelers on the Laurel. The river was high and mighty but you’d think the waist deep flow was class IV whitewater from all the squeals of terror. Actually, the river was moving much faster than it looks in the picture.
Confidence levels quickly improved and soon we were lounging on the deadly submerged snags like they were nordic furniture- perhaps an Ektorp, Karlstaad, or Flort. (you owe me $.35 for product placement, corporate handlers)
This fine post was facilitated by energies derived from rib-sticking tater tot and breakfast sausage bites.