16 mumble chattering elves showed up in the dense Area51 gloom to light the Yule log and fix the newel post. Puddin’ Pop came bearing malodorous gifts, and several of the other elves didn’t exactly hitting Santa’s productivity quota.
Seeing that only Thunder Road was wearing reflective gear, YHC decided to dial down the mileage and stay out of the working class neighborhood of OP. Who are we kidding, we were never going to run through the neighborhood on my Q. Apologies for going over 2 miles, as per Brandi, on my bootcamp Q. I’ll do better next time.
Here’s a little bit of Yuletide Moleskinny:
Some noteworthy moments this morning, not the least of which was YHC splintering one of the picnic table benches on the first step-up. Put down the egg nog, Hops, and pick up a KB. Skip rope and skip dinner! Cobains. The bench was already splintered. True story. Check the video tape. All of the OP posse promised to fix it via a scout project. OR Motorboat will pick it up and torch it in Spackler’s burn barrel.
Other tidbits worthy of mention:
Site Q and gentleman Jet Fuel actually refuseniked quite politely — asking what he should do in lieu of burpee’s. Spackler et al did not ask, he had already grabbed his tiny bag of nicotine #chemicalcrutch and his Yeti at 6:11am. #warrior
Walthar N’Djaiye’s were a bit dodgy this morning. Read the disclaimer, men.
We went 2.03734 miles apparently. Messed up the paver wall for the Methodists. Lessened the outdoor lunch seating capacity by 3. Did some other stuff, too.
Thanks to Jet Fuel and Slingshot tapping me to Q, even if it was because Ickey knew he’d be too hung over from Wednesday night bowling league. True Story. Glad I could help. Do I get a team shirt with my name in cursive, Ickey? #earlanthony
Remember: it’s only 15 days until the Gasparilla Bowl. Alabama is not in the CFP. And Baker Mayfield is starting for the defending Super Bowl Champs.
Even if you don’t really celebrate Christmas, this song is worth a listen. I think it’s powerful. Pay attention to the lyrics. This song was actually a poem written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who among other tragic events in his life, watched his wife burn to death in their home. So how could he write about right prevailing? What was his hope? He wrote this in 1864, while our country was tearing itself apart and his son lay in a hospital, badly wounded in the war.
“Then rang the bells more loud and deepGod is not dead, nor doth He sleep Peace on Earth. Peace on Earth. The wrong shall fail, the right prevail With peace on Earth, good will to men.”