Weekend Tailgate

September 12, 2006

On Saturday morning, I got to the tailgate party spot early. Between 5:30 and 6:30, I unloaded the astounding amount of crap that I can fit into a Jeep. Although it was still dark, it was already kind of hot. The air was heavy with humidity and there was nary a breeze.

I sat down to cool off and switched from hot coffee to a cold bloody mary. About that time, a large group of joggers passed through. I shouted my encouragement. "Hey psychopaths! Come get a donut and a beer!"

Like many LSU cheerleaders, Blossom has trouble keeping her skirt on.

One lady yelled something back. It seemed to be a good-natured reply, but I couldn't make out the words. How is it that something that makes it difficult to yell could be good for you?

Later, a second group of joggers got similar treatment.

It turns out that this is the week that the exercise gods get to deal the karma cards.

Yesterday at lunch time, the morning rain had cleared, and the sun was breaking through the clouds. I went home, changed, and headed out for a bike ride. I got a couple miles in and felt a few sprinkles. They felt good, so I kept peddling. It's not relevant to the story, but I want to mention that I was strong as a racehorse early yesterday.

Of course you see this coming. I got as far as I get from home, and the sky opened up. All of a sudden, I'm the exercise psychopath peddling through the downpour. The water washed over me as if I were riding through a car wash. As it first ran down my face, it was salty with the sweat from my hair, but in no time, it came down fresh and clean.

My shoes and socks became soaked and squished through every pedal stroke. My shorts sucked up against my skin, but shrinkage prevented me from being an obscenity to the passing motorists.

I got home, cleaned up, and changed in time to see the weather clear up a bit.

Getting back to the tailgate party, it was a good time. Having started on the bloody marys by 6:30, you might correctly guess that I had plenty too much to drink. The day flew by -- it seems like we were out there a few hours rather than 12 hours.

Ben makes out with Beethoven. Or Mozart. Whoever.

I suppose this picture merits some explanation. From where we set up the tailgate, the nearest restroom is in the music building. As you come in the door, you're greeted by this statue. I can't remember if this is Beethoven or Mozart; all of those old composers sport the same hairstyle. After a full day of going in and out, I for some reason decided to ask a girl to take a picture of me making out with him. She complied, with the stipulation that she be able to take the picture with her camera also. All was good.

As she took the snapshot, she said, "This is making me so hot."

So I replied something like, "Well, it's good that you have that picture. You can pull it out and look at it while you masturbate."

She didn't even reply. She just grabbed her friend's arm and ran.

There aren't a whole lot of photos from that day, but I've posted the good ones that I have here.