Okay, so I just returned from the local steak house that’s inundated with a Texas Roadhouse theme. Saturday is the night to have my weekly splurge of Jack Daniels on the rocks. As I was sitting in the bar after dinner, I was mesmerized by the TVs. ESPN was on and I was giddy as a schoolgirl because I figured a World’s Strongest Man competition was on.
Yep, I performed my GPP work this morning (boulder lifting in the AZ heat) and I was smack dab in the middle of enjoying my whiskey when I suddenly fell very ill. WSM wasn’t on. Nope, no vintage footage of Kaz pulling a bus or throwing a keg 20 feet in the air. What was on ESPN? A pie-eating contest. Yep, fat little fuckers inhaling blueberry pies. Is that what civilization is coming to? Are pie-eating contests now the new standard of athletic performance?
As I sat and absorbed the atrocity of the contest, I became curious why it was so hot in the bar, and why I was sitting in a handbasket?