Uncle Crappy and The Wife will be out for the next few days, as we take this year’s being skiing trip Out West. I can say that because Boyne Highlands, in the northern part of the State Up North, is technically west of Pittsburgh. So. Out West it is. I’m taking the laptop along, and… Read More out.
We’re exhausted. And pretty happy. Gettysburg was a great trip. My birthday was fantastic. The football was good on Saturday afternoon and got better Saturday night. And the baseball? As I found out when I woke up Sunday morning, it went OK as well. I told you about the ghost tour in Gettysburg Tuesday night.… Read More boo, II.
I could I get used to this. I’m sitting on the tiny front porch of our camping cabin just south of Gettysburg; I’m typing on the laptop — thanks to the campground’s kick-ass wifi — while The Wife is reading me snippets from her newly purchased ghost-hunter’s field guide to the battlefields that surround the… Read More boo.
Because we’re getting ready to leave, here are some bullets: HOLYFUCKINGSHITTHEINDIANSBEATTHEYANKEESANDGETTOPLAYTHE REDSOXFORTHEAMERICANLEAGUECHAMPIONSHIPANDTHECHANCE TOGOTOTHEWORLDSERIES. I’m not forgetting the football. I just not trying to draw attention to what Ohio State has been doing so far this season. Here’s a hint: I just watched the 2002 season highlight DVD, and noticed … many similarities. Hmmm… The Wife… Read More whoooo!
Further proof that Uncle Crappy is a moron: So The Wife and I are kicking around the notion of a short trip to Gettysburg next week — battlefields, beer and ghost tours. She calls me while I’m on the way to work and says she’s found a reasonably priced hotel in town. This same hotel… Read More again.
Two concerts, a great sorta long weekend and one royal pain in the ass. Let’s begin. Railroad Earth at the Rex Theater was spectacular. They’re an honest bluegrass band at heart — and a couple of the songs on Thursday really highlighted their traditional abilities — but they’re not content to keep it simple and… Read More railratroadearthdog. and other stuff.
Uncle Crappy 