Livin' In B'lo Like There's No Tomorrow
Well, I had a pretty cool time back home in Buffalo (a.k.a. B'Lo) this Memorial Day weekend. The reason for the return? My brother, Matt, ran his very first marathon! Not only did he finish the Buffalo Marathon, he beat the time he'd hoped for, the skinny bastard. And mere hours later he joined us in a li'l beer blast. Ya gotta love it.
Not much went down besides an initial Friday night fest in the bro's basement bar (there's actually a bar in his basement!) where the bourbon flowed to the rhythm of classic rawk and west coast rap. And Steve got his obligatory order of Duff's chicken wings which made him very happy (he hardly even noticed the rap).
So, the day of the marathon (which began at 7:30AM, by the way), I'm crusin' in Matt's company car (unfortunately not his other ride, the sweet black corvette), actually idling as I waited for the chance to cross the marathon route on my way to our next rendevous point (just in case he needed more of that nasty energy jizz known as Gu), when all of a sudden his cellphone rings. Being the anti-cellphone sort that I am, it took me a few moments to realize what it was, and without thinking, I answered the damn thing. Keep in mind there are two cops about two car-lengths ahead of me directing traffic and I'm in New York State, where it's illegal to drive while talking on a cellphone.
Of course it's my obnoxious father who has the balls to greet me with a "Rise and Shine!" when it's 10:00 AM and I've been up for the past four hours. I'm not gabbin' with him more than 20 seconds when one of the Buffalo fuzz pounces on me and inquires, "Are you trying to make me look stupid?" I didn't succumb to the temptation to respond with the obvious quip; instead, I apologized, as he proceeded to remind me he could slap a $150 fine on me. Eventually he let me off the hook, lamenting to his porcine buddy, "Ya know, they never try that shit in Tonawanda or Williamsville, but when they're in Buffalo they think they can do whatever they want."
So, Matt came in at #89 out of 546 marathoners, at 3:32:18, about 10-15 minutes less than his goal. He's also one of those assholes who finishes every video game the day he gets it, and always beat everybody at any board game (it's no wonder I can't stand most games!). Of course some Kenyan dude came in first.
In honor of Matt's amazing achievement, I made a homemade chocolate cake and decorated it with a message I knew he'd appreciate, as we're all huge VH fans (David Lee Roth era exclusively). Maybe scarfin' down the cake will fatten him up a bit, but I doubt it....
Not much went down besides an initial Friday night fest in the bro's basement bar (there's actually a bar in his basement!) where the bourbon flowed to the rhythm of classic rawk and west coast rap. And Steve got his obligatory order of Duff's chicken wings which made him very happy (he hardly even noticed the rap).
So, the day of the marathon (which began at 7:30AM, by the way), I'm crusin' in Matt's company car (unfortunately not his other ride, the sweet black corvette), actually idling as I waited for the chance to cross the marathon route on my way to our next rendevous point (just in case he needed more of that nasty energy jizz known as Gu), when all of a sudden his cellphone rings. Being the anti-cellphone sort that I am, it took me a few moments to realize what it was, and without thinking, I answered the damn thing. Keep in mind there are two cops about two car-lengths ahead of me directing traffic and I'm in New York State, where it's illegal to drive while talking on a cellphone.
Of course it's my obnoxious father who has the balls to greet me with a "Rise and Shine!" when it's 10:00 AM and I've been up for the past four hours. I'm not gabbin' with him more than 20 seconds when one of the Buffalo fuzz pounces on me and inquires, "Are you trying to make me look stupid?" I didn't succumb to the temptation to respond with the obvious quip; instead, I apologized, as he proceeded to remind me he could slap a $150 fine on me. Eventually he let me off the hook, lamenting to his porcine buddy, "Ya know, they never try that shit in Tonawanda or Williamsville, but when they're in Buffalo they think they can do whatever they want."
So, Matt came in at #89 out of 546 marathoners, at 3:32:18, about 10-15 minutes less than his goal. He's also one of those assholes who finishes every video game the day he gets it, and always beat everybody at any board game (it's no wonder I can't stand most games!). Of course some Kenyan dude came in first.
In honor of Matt's amazing achievement, I made a homemade chocolate cake and decorated it with a message I knew he'd appreciate, as we're all huge VH fans (David Lee Roth era exclusively). Maybe scarfin' down the cake will fatten him up a bit, but I doubt it....
posted by Connie Sewer at 10:16 AM
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