The Rebels Went Down to Cleveland

Well, last night was rather interesting. I remembered to bring gloves so, unlike last time, my hands did not turn into the hands of Death itself and burn with the fires that can only be found in the coldest of cold (very minimal frostbite recovery pains, for those less dramatically inclined). And, of course, we won. For those who missed it, you missed a good game.

One of the strange things about High School games is that I don't pay attention to them constantly. Usually I'll pay attention through the first quarter or so, get distracted through the second, talk to the band in the third, and pay attention in the fourth. Last night was no different. I was summoned to Martha and Cathy's side to participate in "cute" "clever" word plays such as "My Little Chinese Take-Out", "My Danish Danish", "My Mexican Jumping Bean", etc. Now, I'm as much a fan as plays on words as the next guy, but after awhile even I have my limit. Apparently they don't. So, after numerous escape attempts involving flares, jail breaks, and a whole lot of confetti, a decoy presented herself and I jumped the razor-sharp, electric fence, got past the heat-seeking guard kittens, and evaded the Acid-shooting Helicopters to make my get-away into the bright horizon. Well, I may have exaggerated a bit, and it really wasn't that bad, but nevertheless, it's still based on truth I tells ya!

The Pep Bus was also slightly interesting. Now, most of you who come here can generally go along with whatever crazy, rambling, random, nonsensical conversations I come up with. To the uninitiated, I just seem crazy (no, I know what I said. You don't have to point out the flaws and or irony). I believe I've convinced Michael Winston (a former Northwestern, such as myself. Once you've been through that horror, you lose a piece of your soul!) that I am just that. Now, I can't be sure, but he gave me quite a few "Riiiiggghhhtttt" looks. I mean, I only talked about the right way to found and use a cult and the ethics of hobo killing (one is an accident, two is a public service, three is a serial killing, yada yada). He didn't go along with it as well as I'm sure some of you would have, but he didn't mace and/or maul me either.

Anyway, I should be posting a riddle later today or tomorrow (my sister created a violent take-over while I was writing this so although it was started Saturday, it's being posted Sunday). I don't want to make Sunday's post super long, we'll just have to see how things go. Until next time...