Santa is already hibernating with momma clause til next year, Dick Clark is one year closer to looking like skeletor, and I am getting shipped out to a foreign planet with tall trees, SEC devotion, and a strong absence of Texas Toast. Yes readers, this alien planet is called Middle Tennessee. After being surrounded by Native Texan narcissists the last 15 years it will be an interesting transition at first. My deduction would lead me to believe that people wont have the state of Tennessee tattooed on their forearms (guaranteeing unemployment), it won't be considered treason to have a beverage other than Lonestar Light, and my local and state political options probably won't be named Kinky. I say bring bring it on...
My hiatus on life is nearing one month now and I have to daily seek motivtion to overcome my sloth like behavior. I keep telling myself that I have 3 weeks until an eternity of labor and i will look back fondly on my xbox 360 skills maturation, wandering travels, and a complete excess of collegiate and minor league sports. We are talking overload on the Austin Icebats (the minor league hockey team for the real minor league hockey team which is a minor league hockey for the Minnesota Wild), the Austin Toros (cross your fingers and maybe Keith Langford will make the Spurs by 2012), Vanderbilt snuck by Tenn-Martin, Nashville Preds got body rocked by the San Jose Sharks, and i feel like the longhorn games i have been to lately have been the only games that they haven't lost (get your game tight rick barnes).
Cade and I went absolutely primal at the IceBats game because it was absolutely bonkers. The goal keepers were both ejected for fighting at center ice, we sat on the glass for 8 buckas a pop, and we taunted the mascot until we received a delightful middle batwing finger. Electricity was in the air, drunk idiots were in the stands, and mucus was slew across the ice. Excellence...
dont blink more to come...
