Wait, is it October?
I feel like I just came out of a coma. A coma I was perfectly conscious for. I am fully aware of how completely I ignored everything and one since April. Not that I don’t have a damned good excuse, but I do apologize. It’s called the Black Hole. It’s caused by work. I’m not saying I have cleared the event horizon, but I am working at full engine capacity to warp out of this funk.
It came to me this past weekend. The Wife and I went to Morgantown, West Virginia with friends and family for the WVU game against Texas Tech. We tailgated and cheered and booed and witnessed a fight (more on that below) and I realized how disconnected I have become since being promoted in April. I haven’t written, or socialized or anything; it’s been stressful. So I’d like to apologize for being stressed out and mean and elusive and for letting Dump the Blog decay. I can’t promise I won’t still be that way from time to time, but I will try hard not to.
Now that’s out of the way, let me tell you about Morgantown. Not Morgantown, West Virginia; Morgantown the person. Morgantown is the daughter of some random dude sitting in the row ahead of me at the WVU game this weekend. He named his daughter Morgantown! I guess she got off lucky; he could be an Oregon fan. This gentleman had copious amount of enthusiasm (alcohol) for the home team. Unfortunately, he believed everyone else that didn’t have as much passion (meth addiction) as he was actively rooting for the other team. This lead to verbal insults and finally, some very choice sign language directed at the rows behind us.
Now I have seen a lot of creative ways to flip people off. I mean a lot! But I have never seen someone tattoo the image of a hand giving the middle finger on their right calf muscle. It seems like a really awkward spot. Once he had exhausted his actual hands in the exercise of vulgarity, he turned, bent over and lifted his pant leg to reveal the tattoo (all while using his wife’s head to balance himself on the bleacher). This was the final insult, apparently, that sparked the target of these attacks and Morgantown’s father to start rolling down the bleachers of section 220. The fight didn’t last long; rolling quickly down five rows of metal bench seats is the number one cause of short fights. We laughed, took pictures and flipped one another calf birds the rest of the afternoon. It was lovely.
So Dump is back, kind of. I want to know what you want me to write about. Comments please. Also, I’d like to thank a certain cousin-in-law-in-law(?) for harassing me about the blog and making me feel super guilty about all this time off.