It's been a pretty crap week, here. Got to admit it. The weather's been shit, a couple of my friends are having a tough go of things, my connection with Comcast is still going up and down like it's getting paid to do so... you know how it goes.
And twelve years ago this week, I came home from England.
All of this is combining together in a rather bad way.
What I mean by all this is... as so often happens... a long holiday weekend is coming at just the right time. I still don't know whether I'll have Monday off (and I won't know until close of business today, most likely), but either way... it'll be nice to shut down and relax. Or get some shit done around the house.
I just need a bit of a change-up, right now.
In the spirit of looking back, and to lift my mood a bit, I'd like to re-link to my favorite bit I've ever written here. A good many of you have already read this, but many of you have not: my four-part epic retelling (wink) of my experience at Wing Bowl 2005.
The reason I'm putting it up again (despite an appalling number of grammatical mistakes) is that somehow, the Wing Bowl has crept into a conversation or two this week, including one at work. So... competitive eating has been on the brain.
And beyond that, I have nothing else positive to contribute this morning.
The only preface I'll offer relates to the setting: Wing Bowl 2005 took place on the Friday morning before the Eagles' appearance in the Super Bowl against Tedy Bruschi! and the Patriots.
Hopes were stratospheric, Terrell Owens and Donovan McNabb were still untouchable superheroes, and Bill "El Wingador" Simmons... with a victory, he could place himself on Philadelphia's Mount Rushmore, assuming his fat mug wasn't already on it.
Things were good back then.
So. With apologies for any profanities/obscenities/misogynies that follow: