The crowning St. Paddy's Day moment showed that often your friends have your back, even though you may be oblivious to it. The crew and I were walking back to our hotel after a late dinner when a drunken Johnny Knoxville knockoff starting shouting across the street to some unknown assailant. We were on a two-tiered sidewalk, with Seven and I on the highside when Johnny decided to yell, "Lick my fucking balls." My rules are pretty simple, cuss like a sailor, I do, but not around my crew. However, before I could even take a step down the stairs, his friends saved the day. "Danny, look around man," said one. "We're really, really sorry about that," said another. "Thanks guys. Take care of your boy." Faith in humanity momentarily restored.
A few other notes. I didn't see a lot of people riding. Bummed me out a little, but I was in a horrible area unless you want to go full blow attitude all the time. Seemed like there was nearly an accident at every corner all the time.
People don't take kindly to someone running hard on a highly angled treadmill with the NCAA tourney blasting over the sound of the treadmill. I turned the TV down though.
Missed the race but Lincoln did not. Large Props to Sydney and Matt for taking the six hour wins, not to mention the rest of the crew for clearing having fun. Not to mention, BKB represent.
The Kemper Museum Welcome Wagon.
Don't Call Me Junior.
The Ceramics Building at the Intitute.
Couped Up.
Road Trips, Ball Point Pens and Future Tattoo Lovers.
3 comments:
tuesday night platte river ride..7:30 wild turkey parking lot
Tats on the soles of the feet? That had to tickle!
Skip, wanna ride to Platte tomorrow afternoon?
Wow, that Johnny guy gets around. I see him at every Eagles game at the Linc.
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