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As we partake in drinking duty away from our usual watering hole, The Last Tap, Crazy Cliff Peters, Johnny “Pouraliscious” Baird, Jerry Joseph “Sausage Boy” Wasnicki, Loveable Lou, Chuck and I celebrate life on this glorious July afternoon.  Bunkering down for a long drinking night ahead of us, we engage one another in a mindless banter of inconsequential repartee.  Our perverse witticism is deployed as the ceremonial jab is joust:


“Man Trace, it’s so pathetic you took a blind date to Senior Prom!” sneers Lou.


“Yeah, and then you broke your elbow,” snickers Jerry.


“You can’t break your elbow!” insists John.


“Can too!  See, it still pops!” I say, snapping my discombobulated joint back into place.


“GROSS!” they all chant in unison.


“Sorree,” I deceive, happy to put them to the test.


“Yeah, and THEN there’s the time…” Chuck starts in.


 “Oh all right! So I got dumped by my blind date’s FATHER!”  The good natured ribbing from my best buds in the world reaches fervor pitch at that conclusion. As you can see, luck holds no oasis in my former dating life either.  Oh well, so I’m not perfect and I don’t have all the answers…but you can’t say that I don’t try!  At least the guys and I can have fun over my misfortune.  Keeping a sense of humor when life strikes you down is one of my prized talents.  We heartily laugh over my heartbreak and then get back to the important task at hand, aimless conversation and drinking beer.



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