Friday, December 4, 2009

Put on your Gameface.

The Chief is cleansed and has been dreaming clearly beneath the light of the full moon about how someone can urinate from lemon juice than from a case of bood light silos. Heckawee brave think Chief should go back to inspiration. As Heckawee readys for State, they think about base layers, snoring drugs, stadium horns, cowbells, and the chicken marsala at the Olive Garden. Oh, the pageantry. Too bad it's gotta be an out and back. The Mystery Machine will be in a drive thru for beef sandwhiches before the protest period ends.

Molteni's out. Gary's in but pondering the circus of the race he's registered for.

No snow or rain is in the forecast though the temps should be hovering around the freezing mark. So Heckawee wonders whether to build a fire inside the Mystery Machine or if electric ice fishing socks really work. It's eerily quiet. It's serious: The Professor had to share a bottle with the founder, Mullison. Gameface is on.

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