Saturday day, I jumped rope for 45 minutes trying to master Double Unders. Over the yeas I had picked up the habit of alternating: Single, Double, Single Double. After 20 minutes I had worked it out. That’s enough rope talk.
Saturday evening I shot out of my hovel like a Aardvark, butt first and head low, but this time I turned east instead of west, dropping into North Beach.
No one told me that Impala took the old Black Cat and Blue Bar space. No one told me that the waitresses at Impala dressed like Doc Holliday’s wife, either. Well, the Sacred Heart meets old-Mexico-brothel design works when you’re sitting at the bar, and the enchiladas verde were tasty too. There was even football on above the bottle-capped tequila-Alter . Impressed, I walked downstairs and was not disappointed. I miss the Blue Bar, and Impala seems a bit forced, but it could all be worse. Take Jitney’s for instance.
On the way back I stopped into Sip for one. They had Sex in the City on: the one where she falls on the cat walk. It’s a classic. I was asleep by 12. (The jump rope talk was more exciting, I know)
Sunday I played an hour of Frisbee, an hour of Soccer, and an hour of Basket Ball. The basketball victory was most sweet (3 way 21 by ones, over a short asian, and black tennis player). My shoulder are in a perpetual clinch right now, dunno why. Got beamed in the eyebrow by the Frisbee. Let this be the historical record, cause if it goes black I’m telling people it’s a boxing accident.
Just now, I googled “The Kid”, as I am wont to do after I play Ultimate. I found the micky mouse picture of him over at Paxultimate.
And these Hippo Pictures!
