A constant quest for hotdogs.
August 15th, 2004 | by Scott Jennings |Mini Diplomat’s show last night was fairly watchable, which was nice. A solid two-thirds-or-so of a Harold, which beat the record Ross and I set for a great one-third-or-so of a Harold that one time we did that. Ryan and Bill were there and I finally got to meet Tefler, after years of Internet-based shared snarking experiences.
The Playground fundraiser party after the show was fun, good people, good times, great oldies, all that shit. I had a little beer and played wrestling trivia with another ridiculous hardcore fan. (Do you know which former WWE Superstar has a degree in accounting? Or what the last match in AWA history was?) And there were also word games.
Me and Zach and Rene and Ross and Dave and Tefler had brunch at Deluxe Diner, where Zach was a total poonhound (in joke! in joke! the bits don’t ever end!) and Rene couldn’t get a high five and we registered a domain name and I couldn’t find a goddamned hotdog. And now me and Ross and Tefler are hanging out at Dave’s house watching Jackass (pretty awful) and playing non-regulation foosball. In a few minutes, we’ll get a ride to the train to take us back to O’Hare and onward to RDU. But not before I get a goddamned hotdog.
A good weekend. But I miss Katy. Waaaaaah.
