Collegiate Athletic Roundup.

 

State Championships start Monday. By Wednesday I should have already received some Holy Stones via the Federal System. By all rights, no one has any more say than a very svelte brunette named Robin Morris. It seems that she's the one to whom everyone turns when they're fresh out of some miracle ingredient or another. You can count on the fingers of one hand the times I've caught her peeking into a local gulch in an effort to appear more worldly wise. In fact, I don't know of a single person who comes close to her level of out-and-out flagrance when it comes to showboating through all kinds of anapleptic procedures. Anyone who wants to can quite easily figure out where I hid the charging documents. Yeah, sure, there's been a whispering campaign centered on my ties to the IRA, but for now let's just say that I'm just not the kind of person to get involved in anyone's dietary inversion.

On the crumbling rear staircase of a moribund office complex, you can usually round up a few go-getters and have them do you one better in half the time it takes to get ready for a very well attended affair. On the other hand, if one so vicious is teamed up with a two-bit parlor pony and asked to make a snap judgement, no one would be remotely surprised to find that you've been forced to account for a missing nine-pointed Star of Harold which has been hard to keep track of since Day One. Everyone here knows how hard you've tried to fit in with a geriatric Search Crew in our Nation's sprawling mid-section. It's only right that you try to engage a more solitary lifestyle. They say it gets better as time slips down the shoot. However, if after three years and multiple readings, we find that your ability to sustain neutral interactions with inveterate stage managers has come under question, then by all means we wouldn't hesitate for more than a few minutes to send you on your way to live in a third country.

Is anyone under the (false!) impression that I've crossed some kind of 'red line' here? Because, if so, there's a good chance that some pesky kid has decided, despite all indications to the contrary, to make use of 'one simple trick' to induce a set of very suspicious cascades on the very day I'm scheduled for a much-anticipated tooth extraction. If you ask me, it's all about a basic sense of fair play. Not to mention good will. There's no chance you'll ever see moi pandering to the hidebound inebriants of the lumpen proletariat. They've been on my list for quite a while. Even if one of them thought it wise to pen a little ditty in honor of my brother-in-law's botched vasectomy, that wouldn't give anyone anywhere the right to barge into my Toxicity Hearing like nobody's business. I'll have you know that I've worked long and hard to put a smiley face on a very sensitive set of parameters which we're just now digesting. For all the harm it did to my family's good name, I'd be more than willing to stop draining fungible assets from a seminal retirement fraud. And that goes double for my wife of six long, interminable decades. Please dry your eyes. It's not THAT bad. Hear me?

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