Another Portland Sunday

Jeezus, the weather has been perfect. I never expected to be clocking miles and feeling this fit so early. I feel pretty damn good, and every day the Ankeny hill gets a little better. I did the 20th to 32nd hustle at a steady 14 mph this morning and didn't puke in my mouth. Two weeks ago just looking up at that slight incline made my stomach do flip-flops.

Made it up to The Know to see my favorite cute/uppity bartender this afternoon. I don't know how they do it, but pint bottles of Iron City are $1 during happy hour(s). I had three, left a good tip, and was still out a whopping 7 bones. I got to watch most of "Meet the Parents" in Espanol, too. That is one boring, smelly bar, but it has it's charms. Mainly, that it reminds me of Treat St. during one of the funnest, substance fueled, cash-money times of my life.

Except now I'm broke, stoked on dollar beers, and basically just as lonesome and dull as all the other bargoyle rejects lining the stools next to me. Sigh.

Wifey and the Lads are at Grandma's house. I'm fixin to crack a couple of little red pills, make some pasta, and call it another wasted sunday.

Cheers.