November 3rd, 2007

Don't Hassle the Hoff

Crave The Crave

I keep forgetting that with weight loss comes the necessity for the wearing of belts. I look like a fucking AFTER photo in one of those diet campaigns, only it's one of those crappy campaigns where the guy may have lost a few inches around the waist, but he's still in no shape to be pulling off quality AFTER photos. Pretty much, my shorts and jeans are worthless to me unless they have drawstrings; I don't even need to unzip to pull them on anymore.

What if I was to tell you that I was fooled by the same non-White Castle for the second time in the last ... two and a half months? Would you be surprised? No, you wouldn't be surprised asshole! You'd say, "Yep, that sounds about right." I went on Google this week with the express purpose of finding the nearest White Castle to my house that didn't require me to transfer to a bus, to walk more than half a mile, or to go into Manhattan. And, once again, I found myself in Queens - near the Jackson Heights - seeing the White Castle flag waving in the breeze, walking up a hill to what I thought would be my hamburger paradise. Once again, it was the White Castle District Office I found myself walking to the night before flying out to Houston in August (only this time I was walking from a different direction so it felt fresh and new).

But, I didn't panic! I didn't break down and cry. Sure, I cursed my stupidity on the annoying walk back to the train station, but I didn't settle for less! I didn't go to that McDonalds in quick walking distance. I didn't go home with my tail between my legs and a supermarket-bought box of frozen slyders under my arm. I just got back on that train, rode on into Manhattan, and had that hot-from-the-stovetop White Castle experience I've been craving all week. Then, I went into Times Square and caught the 1pm showing of 'American Gangster' before the truly monumental crowds showed up later.

With that, I saw a quality film, and I still made it back in time to hit the gym later. All in a day's work in the life of Steven A. Taylor.

This, of course, puts me into a slight bind because I now have to do my laundry tomorrow before the big trip to the bars for NFL action at 4pm. I think I'm looking forward to this Colts/Patriots game a little too much; it's bound to disappoint. I think I'm also looking forward to drinking lots of beer tomorrow a little too much, but it's been too long since I've been tanked. Although, I'll tell you this much: The Black Sheep is henceforth blackballed on my football-watching itinerary.

Let's look at the facts here: the Seattle Seahawks are 4-3 after eight weeks. They're 2-0 in games played while I wasn't at the Black Sheep (@ San Francisco when I was forced to switch bars and vs. St. Louis when I boycotted them for that week). That means the Seahawks are 2-3 in games I've watched at The Black Sheep, and one of those wins was in week 1 when my brother was here and the other was vs. Cincinnati where we were lucky to get off the field with a slim 3-point victory. As far as I'm concerned, with the shutout by the Steelers, the atrocious first half vs. the Saints and that Cardinals game we had NO business losing due to that flukey fumble at the end, the Black Sheep is bad news all around.

And frankly, thinking back, I was there for the playoff loss last year as well as the win vs. Dallas where we were lucky to stop them on that botched field goal. I was also there most of the year when damn near every position on the team felt the sting of the injury bug. Coincidence? Or is the Black Sheep really just an accursed institution set up by Satan to banish any team I root for to mediocrity as long as I set butt on their stools? I mean, normally I applaud Satan's hard work and diligence, but if he's channelling his evil through the Black Sheep, I don't think I can divert my time or money in their direction anymore. Anything for the well-being of the Seahawks.
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