OK
So, I'm not a good foosball player. Those of you that have played with me in the past know that, particularly any that were around during the Water Street days. I'm better than I was then, but good never gets close to me. I have become a halfway decent defender though, or at least I have moments now.
Having said all that, I took a thorough stomping in foosball last night. I mean, our baseball team hasn't even lost this bad. I couldn't stop a single shot. At one point I decided to play one handed, and just concentrate on my beer, and I blocked more shots.
Ack.
I think I need to go to bar game camp. Ever since I stopped spending as much time in the bar, my pool game has gone down, my foosball game has gone down, and even the thought of playing beer die gives me a hangover. I mean, I had something like five beers last night, all of them of the see through variety, and my head is pounding right now, and I have a suspicious craving for bacon and egg sandwiches.
Forecast for this weekend:
25% sleeping on rocks
50% wiffle ball
99% sore body and liver on Sunday
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5 comments:
can't handle even the thought of beer die anymore? you have gotten old. better pack it in and hope that i don't whoop you in wiffle ball next week.
If the day ever comes where you can out play me in beer die... This is a thought so preposterous that I'm not even going to finish it.
that day has already passed. who was the first one w/ their name on the beer die table in the peach house? enough said.
I think you're lying. I don't remember this.
Regardless, prepare to be dominated in wiffle ball.
I speak of the truth.
We shall see.
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