Now that we got that out of the way we can re-cap the previous evening's goings on and whatnot. We celebrate Day 2 at the cheesy Cheesecake Factory (CCF), adjacent to the lovely Quakerbridge Mall. In a stroke of what can only be termed as brilliance, the Greeks invented cheesecake and discovered factories just in time for the 776 BC Olympics, the first Olympics in barely recorded history. And it wasn't in the manner told to you by your parents who were told by their parents who were told by their parents, etc. Three guys - one carrying cheese, one carrying cake, and the third carrying a model for the factory that was used to build the Parthenon – so engrossed in their own little creations that they didn't notice each other until they collided at the center of the town square, sending cheese and cake way up in the air only to land on the model factory … you get the idea … well, that's just an old wives' tale. To this day no one can say for sure what the origins of cheesecake factories are. Anyway, back to those first Olympics. Cheesecakes fresh off the factory lines were awarded to winners of the footraces for people with no sense of direction, the shiniest and smoothest Festivus pole makers, and of course, the Feats of Strength champions.
So with the mall right next to the CCF, you'd think that we'd be discussing the latest fashions on display at Penny's or Macy's, but have you really paid attention to how we dress? Like we give two flying effs about how we look – except for g-man – he always wants to be the prettiest girl in the room. We dare you to tell him he's not – in fact, we double-dog dare you.
So with a an eclectic mix of beers, vittels, and cheesecakes in our bellies, we discuss current events and Sylvester Stallone movies. It's not often you find those two items in the same sentence – in fact, it could be the first time. The cinematic prowess, the overt writing and subtle dialog belie an erudite sensibility of human interpersonal relationships. Exhibit A: Cobra.
I don't mean to leave anybody out, but we had Cole, Reese, Art, Milot, D-Mile, REBECCA, Erin, Laura, Tamp, Ska, Rose, Kim (Rose's daughter), G-man with family in tow (Su, Andrew, and Julian), E-man, Lisa E-man, and Trent, and of course, Sandor. After years of lobbying, begging, cajoling, and threatening, Sandor finally got his way – a night at the CCF where he could indulge in their world-famous Key Lime cheesecake, fresh off the factory line – so fresh, that if you looked real hard, you could see where the dividing line between the cheese and the cake. One of the cool things about the CCF is the prices for the beer. In lots of places if you buy three beers and pay with a $20, you get change back. However, at the CCF, they don't want you to be bothered with carrying that annoying extra change around, so they charge you $24. I think Sandor might owe me some money.
With beer prices being what they are, Ska has been unable to hire an IT department to manage all of the idiosyncrasies of e-mail delivery to half of the mid-Atlantic population, so please forgive him if you are not getting your cherished messages in a timely manner. I, myself, did not see yesterday's stats until 10 PM, when Pheidippides delivered them on ancient papyrus. Even in the cold weather, Pheidippides wore only two togas. I explained to him that the CCF took all my drachmas, so I had nothing for him. He muttered something rude that I couldn't make out and ran the 26.2 miles back to the mail server to get the message. Before he left he gave me a nicely wrapped present .. I'm wary of to opening it, though. Perhaps, you have some advice?
Well, I have to cut these stats a bit short this morning.
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