Saturday, September 27, 2008

191: boycott? no way jose...

Friday night Monkey and I are out trying to get dinner.

We live in a College town and all the kids are back. Getting into a restaurant without a reservation can be a wasted effort. I'm not pointing fingers here, but someone couldn't make up her where they wanted to eat, so we are bouncing from restaurant to restaurant trying to get something to eat before 10:00 at night.

Finally we are at the end of the strip, the last place to eat, and I say to the hostess, dressed much like Ms. thang, "table for two please" Ms. Thang responds, " be about 30 minutes, why don't you stop back then." As she promptly looks away and dismisses me. I get her attention, "so are you taking people's names?" Agitated she responds, "you should come back in 30 minutes" I see the paper in front of her, with names on it. "So that's a list with peoples names on it for a table, I'd love to have my name on it" Ms. Thang shrugs, and places my name on the list. "I'll see you in 30 minutes" she says dismissing me again.

I walk over to the pop corn machine, get a fresh bowl. Walking back over to the hostess stand, I position Diane with her back to Ms. Thang, and begin to eat popcorn and stare at the rude hostess. I put on my best creepy old guy who drives a big van with no windows face, and I just stare at her.

She wasn't nice to us. She was too cool. Perhaps you have noticed, I am a little creepy.
Ten minutes later we are sitting at our table enjoying cold drinks.

Phelps School Race:
This is my view of the masters race, may have no actual basis in truth, but pretty much how I thought it went down.

Fun course, and despite raining all night the course was wet, but not muddy. The course demanded a lot of power, and with very few technical sections it was pretty much put your foot on the gas and go the entire race. No place to hide behind technical skills. It was also very humid, and made breathing a little harder than cross normally does.

The field was stacked as Hebe, Yozell, Auer, Resinger, and Big Time took off pretty quickly. There was a second group of 5-7 with Piccalo, McDaniel, Cordisco, Tortello, Kealsy, Cline, Long, a couple of dudes I didn't know. This is where I slotted in.

On the third of 6 laps the second group had pretty much blown up and spread out. I was on the tail end of that. Last weekend took a lot out of me. I'm guessing I my should have done something other sit on the couch with the dogs all week. (sorry coach).

Finally with 2 to go, my legs started coming around and I felt like I was making up some ground. Tom had been pretty much taking me to the woodshed all day. I was hanging onto his wheel like I owned it. We were closing in on a Guy's guy on the last lap when Tom flatted with about 1/2 a lap to go. The Guys guy slide out on the technical section I attacked and stole 10th. Tough day at the office, big fields, fast dudes - tons of fun.

Monkey had a very nice day herself taking 4th in the cat four. She sat on a nice group of Kim, Kathrine and Tammy as long as she could. After throwing up in her mouth a little, she nailed it down and rolled home for a very solid finish.

Monkey and I have each done 5 cross races this year, and it's not October yet. That's sweet.
I got a few emails regarding a boycott of MABRA Cross by Fatmarc. There was some activity over on the old MidAtlanticBrotherhood list too. While I appreciate both Mayhew and Tom trying to negotiate me some start money: 700 billion dollars worth, let me be very clear here:


I just don't want any rumors swelling. I love cross and want to help it grow. I hope I'm seen by my peers as a community guy that wants to bring people together, not get into petty pissing matches. Despite being jettisoned from the mabra promoters list by an unknown man lurking in the shadows, I consider the mabra promoters friends, and would do nothing to negatively impact their events. They are quality events.

If you look at the past few years, I have historically done 3-4 mabra races as the season got going. This year 2 of those races are now MAC races, additionally I'm racing outside of the MidAtlantic the weekend of Hagerstown, and this weekend Diane had to work Sunday so we raced Saturday. No ill intend, just scheduling conflicts.

Ed Sanders is one of my favorite cross races anywhere. That's where I got hooked back into cross, that's were I met Wes and Mayhew, and frankly Rob and Erik are awesome guys. It just happens that this year, from a scheduling standpoint, I couldn't make the race.


However, if someone wants to pay me start money, I'm willing to listen. 700 Billion dollars is simply a starting point, I'm willing to negotiate.
check out my sweet new 3/4 high top Vans:
Thanks to Anthony at for the nice action photos.

Friday, September 26, 2008

190: nine long years

This week Diane and I celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary.
Last year Monkey forgot our anniversary. It's in the midst of cross season, I could understand that. I never forget. This year she didn't forget as we both exchanged cards, and had a nice dinner out together. It was really nice.

I'll say this, Anniversary cards are pretty lame.
Birthday cards have come a long way, some are actually kinda funny, musical cards are neat, but anniversary cards are just lame.
What I was looking for was something totally cheesy and funny. You know I wanted some kind of Dirty Dancing card with Patrick Swayze grabbing Jennifer Gray. With the help of a little creative ingenuity I would have had our faces over theirs of course and the verbiage would have said something like, "Nobody puts Monkey in the corner!" Of course the card would have to be musical and when you opened it it would play, "I had the time of my life."

Total Cheese. Funny. Doesn't exist. Instead I gave her a card with a flower on it, and she gave me a card with two kids building a sandcastle. We wrote each other nice notes. Nice cards, but the cheesy factor was low.

I love my monkey.

Back to the bike game tomorrow at Phelps School. Looks like it might be bit of a mud race. Used to consider myself a mudder, but my last two muddy races (USGP DAY 2 and Bear Creek) had me on my backside too much to be effective. I'm gonna have to try and do better tomorrow.
Sadly, I won't make the Ed Sanders Memorial this year. Monkey works Sunday and I 0nly have one race in my old tired legs this weekend. Please give my regards to Erik and Rob they do a great job with that event, and are really good guys.


Monday, September 22, 2008

189: a mug in the bush

So I come home from work on Friday to find a package waiting for me. I think to myself, “this is odd, I haven’t ordered anything.” When I opened the package I found this letter:

And this snazzy hat:

and best of all this:

How much does it rule to be me right now?

I mean as if wasn’t already one of my favorite things about bike racing, fast day of reg, great organization for promoters, results, and of course the ability to google stalk everyone pre-preged for a race thanks to the confirmed rider list.

But wait, it get better: As Monkey and I arrived at Druid Hill Park in Baltimore , I was greeted by my team director holding this for me:
That’s right friends, once my mug was lost, but now I have two new mugs! For the record, neither of these will ever be in the dishwasher at work.

My heartfelt gratitude goes out to the fine folks and of course to my team director Mr. Auer. Just another reason I’m proud to be one of the ADG (Auer’s Damn Goons)

I think I’m gonna go double fist some haterade in my mugs.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

188: lucky number seven

Saturday at the MAC opener (puma cross), one of my worst nightmares came to fruition. Diane took off during her race had a strong start, and at the end of the first lap crashed out and hurt herself. Our teammate Bad Kat and a number of other friends came up to the pit to tell me she was hurt.

My heart sunk.

I ran down the course to find her but could not. I looped back out and she was at the pit with our teammate Sonja. I got there and found her upset, and obviously a little woobly. Sonja, an athlectic training started to tend to her. I was sick. I was ready to pack up and leave, and get her some help.

She told me to be calm, and that she would be okay. I would 100,000 times rather be hurt than see her hurt. Still she insisted that I do my race, Sonja seemed to think that her ribs/shoulder would be okay so I sat on the trainer and warmed up.

I was tight. I was already feeling some self induced pressure for this race. I have been focused on cross all year, and now it was here, time to belly up to the bar. And here the first real race of the season, Monkey crashes out, and that was just burned in my head. I spun on the trainer recessing to my own world of misery.

Suddenly, one my heros, Mike Yozell came up to me and tapped me on the shoulders. He said, " sit up, take a deep breath and remind yourself we do this for fun..." he continued, "you look all balled up..." Mike was beaming, a new father of Issac Edward, and excited to be out for a race. Congratulations buddy, congratulations.

I took his instructions and I felt a bit better. Thanks Mike.

My race went pretty well. I took the hole shot, then rode scared when I needed to be aggressive. I fell back. With 3 to go I found myself in 11th, and kinda going through the motions. Thinking of monkey and just not focused as I needed to be. I told myself to harden the fuck up. I picked off a couple of guys. I looked up and there was one my DCCoD brothers: Jeff Bohnson. I got on his group and we were moving, he looked back and then was gone. He would go on to win.The final two laps I moved into a group wiht Kyle from Bike Lane, and another dude. I tried to attack them, but couldn't get clear so I sat on wheels, and attacked the last section, to lead out and take a small sprint. End result 6th place: my best MAC result ever. I admit I didn't feel too much like celebrating as Monkey gingerly hung out. I didn't tell her, but I thought her season might be over.

Sunday am 4:30 the alarm goes off.

Teammate Zach who spent the night in the Wes Wing, Diane and I load up and head for Baltimore. Our team's race, the second of the MAC series and one of the region's largest races. We started staking the course, and Diane made it clear despite not being able to pick up her bike without pain, that she was going to do this race. I nervously helped her stage, and watched as she and the 40 other cat 3/4 women took off. She started strong. She adapted her bike carrying technique, and she ripped. Diane, despite her injury laid it out there and came up with her best MAC result ever, 7th place. I am so freaking proud.

My race went well. Missed my pedal at the start, got clear with Mayhew, Rob Collins, Jeff, and Mike M. About 3 1/2 laps into a 5 1/2 lap race, Jeff and Scotter are clear. Mike and I get caught by Joe Reynolds, Adam Driscoll, and Ian Mathasis. They go faster, I implode and go from battling for 3rd, to salvaging you guessed it: 7th place. I did my best, I left it all out there, and came away with a strong finish. The top 5 still eludes me, but frankly it was a hell of a weekend. The ride home, after helping my brothers and sisters in black clean up the course, was a joyous one. Monkey and I both had good days, both walked out with 7th places. Monkey is still a little sore, but her ride today had her smiling a cheshire smile.


> Monkey and I made a pact, since with both got 7th today, our luck is going to be changed now, neither of us is going to crash out of a race for the rest of the year...

> Mayhew spent a good chunk of our race yelling instructions to me. Perhaps this is the newest coaching package, where your coach actually races behind you and shouts for you to attack through the cluster fuck in front of you. When my teammate Zack caught him, he said to Zach, "what are you doing back here with me? get up there and help your teammate!" Mayhew came in a very solid 9th place, nice job coach.

> LWeb took top 10's both days, even scored a UCI point saturday. She is such a bad ass.

> Kelly Cline's last lap surge today can only be called lunitic fringe as he attacked from 26 to 20 place in the elite masters race. That series of final moves that was just amazing to watch. A thing of beauty.

> Props to Kris Auer and Chris Nystrom the mad geniuses behind the Charm City Cross race. Props to all my brothers and sisters in black who showed up before dark to set the course, and hustled all day to make sure the event was flawless. I am so proud to be a part of this team.

good weekend, I'm ready for a good night's sleep for sure.



thanks to Anthony and for some fine shots...

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

187: mug shot.

This is my teammate Bad Andy:

This is me:

I am Ginormous. Ugh.

This is a my mug.

I won this mug as a prime last year during cross season. Frankly it is one of the best things I have ever won and for the bulk of the year it has delivered sweet warm coffee to my lips in the morning and cold refreshing water in the afternoon.

Recently, I placed said coffee mug in our company’s dishwasher because it was getting a little gross. Alas when I had come back to get my now clean mug, it was gone. We have a pretty open kitchen, and have plenty of mugs, forks, and knifes that get used by the kitchen masses. It is a pretty socialist company, at least in the kitchen. So at first I wasn’t worried.

Weeks have past and alas my mug has not come back. I sent a few company wide emails looking for it. I’ve check the cabinets and slyly check out anyone who I see drinking from a mug that might sort of look like my mug.

Maybe my mug is now strung out on smack, and stripping in Vegas. Perhaps it’s now singing back up in a rock and roll band. Maybe it’s working for a presidential campaign or headed south to help with the hurricane relief effort. Maybe it’s just sitting on the floor in someone’s car.

Perhaps it has gone to the land of lost items. My Aqualad action figure mysteriously went missing when I was 11. My fat fuck brother swore he knew nothing about it.Six months later I found my Aqualad action figure. My rat fuck brother had dismembered him. I sure hope my mug hasn’t been dismembered. For now I am stuck carrying this old thing:

I wore a long sleeve jersey on my ride tonight. Not because I had to, but because it felt kinda crossy, and looked damn pimpy. Cross is coming my friends, cross is coming fast...



Saturday, September 13, 2008

186: can't buy karma

7:30 Friday morning: I'm in the drive thru at star bucks in Jennersville. There is a man selling tickets to a chicken dinner that will benefit Chester County's less fortunate. Cool charity idea in conjunction with Starbucks. I gave the fellow the $10, and he started to hand me the ticket. "no sir, I know I'm not coming to the dinner, but sounds like the money will go to good use." The man reached in the car and hugged me, he smiled a pure smile and said, " thanks alot man. "

3:30 pm Friday afternoon: Along with a number of my brothers and sisters from the DCCoD and the Newark cycling community, we set up for the Delaware Special Olympics Cycling event, and it's sister event the Fox Run Duathalon, where 100% of the proceeds go to Special Olympics Delaware. The fact that it's pouring down rain doesn't deter us at all. In fact, it inspires us. At one point Tom and I look at each other and smile. We joked, "practice for Granogue..."

Now, those of you that know me know that community is huge for me. Further I believe that each one of us has a responsibility to give back to the sport and to our community. I have a word for people that just show up at races, walk around like they are someone special and never give anything back: fucking vampires.

But I digress, giving back just makes you a better human being, and frankly I enjoy it. I never expect anything in return for being nice, or doing what I see as the right thing. Not that I'm always nice, or always do the right thing, but I try...

Realistically, I know that bad people and frankly plenty of fucking vampires succeed in this world, and in our sport. I just think that's the wrong way to do it. If I have a choice, I'll surround myself with people that do things the right way.

That being said I know that there is never a cosmic payback or scorecard for the things we do, or the things we don't. However, I do believe that if you put out good energy, you get back good energy.

Karma if you will, do good things and good things happen to you.

I learned today, that Karma is a cruel mistress, and just when you think you have her on your side, she'll bite you in the ass.

Today was a nice cross race at Bear Creek Ski Lodge. The course was fun, and frankly would have been very shy if not for the rains the previous night which made the course extra technical, extra muddy. I heart Ray Ignosh, and he did a lot with that venue.

Monkey and I had some basic goals:

- go through the race day routine (pack car in dark, eat, hydrate, poop etc)
- put together a decent rides and build some momentum rolling into next week's double
- see lots of old friends we haven't seen during the off season. As Diane said, it's like the first day of school seeing old friends we haven't seen enough of...
- During my race, I wanted to try to stay with Reisinger and Kelsey. These guys were top PA masters racers last year, and if I could hang with them, the day would be a success for me.

I got off to a good start. Reisinger quickly dispatched me and Sean. Kelsey and I rode together for a bit, but when he bobbled, I attacked and got a little gap. Roughly half way through the race, I sat in 4th place with a pretty good gap on Kelsey and Piccolo behind me. I was having a nice day. I was feeling it...

Then I stacked it. Put too much confidence in my cornering ability and as my front wheel slid out, I did a flying headbutt into the ground.

In my life I have talked some shit. I have been that obnoxious drunk guy at the party. I have three brothers, who all wrestled and we have pounded on each other from time to time.

As a result of that I have been punched in the nose more than once. If you have ever been punched in the nose, you know that while you remain conscious, your balance is off, vision can be a little fuzzy, and although not concussed, it can take you a minute to gain your bearing back.

That my friends what doing a flying head butt to the ground will result in. That and a cracked helmet. I finally got my shit together and tried to get going again, but alas my pot had boiled, my turkey had popped, and my balloons had burst: my day was over. Sadly I pulled myself off the course.

bitter disappointment, and proof that you can't buy Karma

Perhaps my good actions were out weighted by my Lance Armstrong bashing this week, or for repeatedly bringing up that the MANbra promoters rudely dismissed my fellow C3/DCCoD promoters from the mabra promoter list, perhaps it's because I thought this was really funny.

Reality is this: I went too fast into a corner, and I crashed out.

The upside is this: My teammates checked on me further cementing my love of this team(thanks Beth, Kat and Andy!) my wife had a very good day (4th place) , and I got to race about 1/2 of a cross race today. Best of all, the blue and white team helmet that I never really liked is destroyed, so I can go back to my beloved black helmet.

I guess karma is on my side.

Now if I could just work on my current disposition. I'd like to say I wasn't grumpy, or disappointed, but I don't like to lie. I'm kinda of in a son of a bitch mood right now. Luckily monkey can handle me.

thanks also to the folks at bear creek who checked on me after I crashed, and then again back at my car. very nice...

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

185: please don't talk about murder while I'm eating.

So last weekend I had to travel for work. For a guy that doesn't love to fly, chasing Hanna up the east coast in a tiny little plane was super sweet.

I have long been a fan of the manpri pants. My oldest pair is probably 10 years old. Last winter, during my extra FATmarc time, I popped the button off of them. I didn't think much of it because I have a number of different belts that I can use to keep my pants up.

the hipster belt:

the hippy belt:

the dress belt:

the regular brown belt:

Yes, I know 4 belts is a bit of an extravagance, but when your name is fatmarc, and popping buttons is a habit, you better have a series of strong belts, and always a back up. My last belt lasted me 12 years. These 4 are all over a year already. And yes, I am totally sucking it in in these pictures.

Alas as I was searched at the Philly International Airport, I took off my belt, and well, my beloved manpri pants made a run for the the floor. Must have been some kind of wardrobe malfunction in my xyz zipper. Luckily I was not going commando or else I might have given the kindly TSA agent a glimpse of the furry muskrat that is my ass.
Gotta fix that button, or at least remember to not fly in those pants.
Cross practice was hard this week. Before the last effort I told the group the story of Michael Phelps and how he moved to Michigan to swim with a tougher set of work out partners. How Phelps said he rarely wins a workout in practice, and how it just pushes him to keep going
harder. You are only as good as your workout partners is something I used to preach to my wrestling team. Luckily for me our practice has a high number of tough guys.
I told my fellow DCCoCers this as much to keep the entire group engaged, as I did to soothe my own ego, as I really got it handed to me.
On another note, my cross shoes smell like ass. They seriously stunk up my entire car while we were at El Jefe after practice tonight. I hate getting new shoes just before cross season, but I really need to do something about my cross shoes, or else someone is gonna die of asphyxiation or something.

It was people like Lisa Vible, Bernie MacDonald, Suzy Gerlack, and Chris "Sven" Nystrom that made me want to be a part of Charm City Cyclocross. People dedicated not to their own race, their own results, but people dedicated to growing cyclocross. Chris made a very poinignat comment on my last post that really helps to illustrate why I am such a big fan of his. Please check it out.
Regardless, I'm racing cross this weekend. I am joyous.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

184: I sent this to my teammates:

not original but I figured I share anyway:

Ladies and gentlemen of the C3-Sollay Cyclocross team:

Always wear embrocation.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, embrocation would be it. The long-term benefits of embrocation have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.

I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your big ring. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the big ring until you’ve faded or done something silly like run a 1x9.

Trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. However, most of us won't really have a shot at a national championship until we make the 80+ class. So at least we have that going for us.

Fatmarc is fatter than you imagined.

Don't worry about this weekend’s race. Trying focus on one cross race is like trying to catch a fly with chopsticks. The real measure of your season will be the entire picture of all your races. No one race will define your season. The exception to this is nationals. You can suck all year long and win nationals, and it makes everything seem alright.

The really big troubles in your race are likely to be things that never crossed your worried mind, that you can’t control anyway, so why bother wasting the energy trying.

Play with your tire pressure. Yes, 60lbs is way too much.

Run File Treads.

practice your cornering.

Sing on the start line.

Work hard for your teammates and friends. Don't put up with people who use you like a $2 dollar whore.

Take the hole shot.

Don't waste your time on stressing the confirmed rider list. It doesn't control your destiny. It is not a magic 8 ball.

Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The season is long and, in the end, it's all for fun. We do this because we love it.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the MANbra promoters who kicked you off the email list. Forget the guys that said you doomed your team because your results were bad, and that you only get on teams because of your blog. Forget the people that say they hope you have as much fun when you get upgraded.

If you succeed in doing this, tell me or my therapist how...

Don’t let the chip on your shoulder get too big, even if we all still have something to prove, and you want to destroy the bastards talking smack above.

Love your bike, but remember you can’t buy speed in cross.


Get food and drink into your system after the race. You only have 40 minutes to replenish.

Beer is a great recovery drink. (except for Zach, Sam ,Morgan and Jeb)

Maybe you'll win a race, maybe you’ll win a series, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll fight your way through the huge pack of cat4’s for the next 5 years. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Have fun.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own. That is not an endorsement of public nudity.

Celebrate your successes, learn from your mistakes, your best race may not be a race you win or place, but certainly when it all comes together.

Cheer for your teammates, work pit for them, stay for the elite races when you can, get there for the women’s b race when you can. After all what’s the point of a team if we don’t support each other?


Race outside of the MANbra region. Take in as much as you can from the different regions, and learn the traits of each different area. Race in New England, New Jersey, PA anywhere outside of MANbra. Return to our home races a better racer for it.

Celebrate diversity.

Accept certain inalienable truths: The day you win a race, you are a sandbagger and will get called out for it. It’s better to work hard and take responsibility for your results, than to moan about someone else being a sandbagger.

Respect your elders. Learn from everyone you can in this game. The moment you think you know it all, you might as well buy a recumbent.

trust me on the embrocation.


Friday, September 5, 2008

183: california potato chips

This is the apple fritter:
For about the last year or so the apple fritter has taken the place of the Boston Cream as my favorite donut. I will admit that this started out purely as economics. You see the apple fritter is considerably more voluminous than the regular donut. From a cost averaging standpoint, you get more bites for your buck. What started out as perhaps just an affair or a fling, or perhaps a donut of convenience turned into a full blown love affair. That’s right the apple fritter in my new main squeeze when it come to donuts.

Now recently I was in a WAWA and they had something called a vanilla fritter. First let me say that anytime you get a donut from WAWA you’re taking your life in your own hands, donut-wise. The freshness can’t always be guaranteed, and sometimes I think they end up with stale donuts to start with. That being said, I saw the vanilla fritter, and understood that from a flavor standpoint I enjoy vanilla far more than apple, I figured this was a great opportunity for growth, donut-wise.
At this point I will remind you all of the risk reward principle: The greater the risk, the greater the potential reward, and of course the opposite side of that coin, the greater the risk, the greater the potential for complete and utter failure. In this case, utter failure was the end result. First and foremost, I think the vanilla fritter was a month old. Crunchy donuts are never good, next the flavor was just bad. So bad in fact that I had to chuck the damn thing after just two bites. From a dollar cost averaging standpoint, I just went broke. You know donut-wise.
Perhaps it’s karma. Once I made the change from Boston Cream to Apple Fritter, I should have stayed the course. Perhaps I need to stay focused and practice donut monogamy. To top my donut heart break a frickin’ fruit fly dive bombed my coffee this morning and is doing the back stroke in there. Floaters in coffee are always a bad thing. No risk-reward principle here folks, floaters in coffee are always a losing proposition.

Wednesday mornings the car looks like this: Sure it means I have to get up 15 minutes earlier to load the car, but for the betterment of mankind, or at least the DCCoD- it's totally worth it. We’ll call it the mini-cross kit.

All that equipment on a Wednesday does make for a fun night on the bike. Of course I got all this stuff in the car and of course forgot my shoes. Thankfully, Monkey brought them for me.
It would suck to have shown up with all the stuff and not be able to ride. Diane forgot her helmet but CZ saved the day.

During drills I finally nailed down a wrong side high speed dismount and remount. First time ever. Of course E-town wasn’t there to see it, or dissect it, but I was pretty happy. Perhaps I was a little too exuberant as Tom (papa smurf) yelled to me “Yeah, your great now shut up and do another 20 sets of barriers maggot !" And Noogie looked at me and yelled, “CUBS WIN!! CUBS WIN !!!” I was a little scared at that one, I guess I’ll have to keep my little celebrations to myself.

Smaller group at practice tonight. Three DCCoDers presented me doctor’s notes prior to the gathering, others may have detention if they don’t have written notes from the parents next week. We run a tight ship over here…

Rob (scooter) actually wrapped up part of his meal and took it home this week. I personally was shocked. Gavigan however, was inspired by Scooter’s eating abilities last week, spent the last three days fasting to take on “the pot” this week. He did not disappoint and cleaned the damn thing. He was working hard, as the sweat on his brow offered the evidence of his effort, but he did it. Truly amazing feats of eating.

El Jefe loves us, or hates us. If this was a porn blog this would be the money shot:

thanks to Dennisbike for the practice shots.