Beer Run

“So. The moral of this story is: if ever you find yourself in Stratford-upon-Avon, never, Never go to the Dirty Duck!” -Cupcake


Today’s Exploit:

Last night I finally screwed up the courage to visit the roughnecks. In other words, harass them and get in their way and generally be a nuisance. They asked me about how far I run in the mornings and told me how they needed to start getting into shape. They tell me they’re watching their figures.

So as generous as I am, I offered to let them run with me. Of course they laughed at me. This one told me that that one wouldn’t make it to the tower (35 meters). That one told me that this one wouldn’t make it to his truck unless something deadly was chasing him.

Then one of them came up with a clever idea. He told me I should get a beer. Then I should show it to the roughneck Chad. When I had his attention I could start running. Making sure I held the beer where he could see it, he’d probably follow me anywhere.

The only problem I saw with this idea is that Chad is probably 6.5 feet tall. And he’s about 3 feet wide. Meaning he’s built like a horse. Or two. Therefore he could probably catch me in 2.53 steps, if he felt like it. And he could probably pick me up with his little finger. Then where would I be?

I’d be stuck for sure.

In other news, today’s lucky numbers are: 8, 32, 47, 9, 12 and 6.