It's apparently time for yet another canoe race. My uncle and I took the vessel out on the river yesterday for the traditional session of getting reacquainted with how to use an oar, which took all of about five and a half seconds.
As we were paddling upstream, I was spacing out and thinking about the race last year and just how ... how fucking long ago it seems like it was.
I was dating her a year ago?
I was supposed to request this date off work next Sunday, and I'm guessing I'll still have to work the night shift, which should just be a joy. I'm sure a morning on the river will be put me in a splendid mood for grabbing refills of chicken fingers and riblets.
The Rude Pundit's Annual Nativity-palooza, Now with Bonus "Artisan" Fun
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Like movies about suicidal snowmen and tortured ghosts and pole-frozen
tongues, some things are a tradition around the rude house. Beloved reruns
are good ...
9 hours ago
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