Counting No's

See I paid my dues, now you can't tell me nothing
This is dedicated to the ones who kept fronting…

I hate counting. Back in the day when I worked at a big box retail, I used to loathe inventory nights and hide in the walk in freezer for four hours. I got banished from a street fair when someone asked me to guess the number of jellybeans in a jar and I socked them in the face. When I couldn’t fall asleep, I would imagine sheep simply being sheared of their wool. Watching Sesame Street, I would throw my Gerbers at the TV when that idiotic Euro The Count came on.

That being said, it should be no surprise that there’s no way I’m doing the SG Summer Mission in 2008. It shouldn’t matter that if I was, last week would’ve been pretty stout. My wife’s family came breezing into town, which provided ample outdoor time, game time, and my beautiful wife’s birthday celebration to consume mass quantities of smoooooooooooth CLs, a couple Amstel Lights, and even a Shiner Bock. Good stuff, but counting it would be just wack. (76)

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