I have a friend whom I've known for the past 4-5 years now that really wants to get into my blog, which I suppose is better than him getting in my wallet! Hey-oh! (Badum-ching!) I've coached with him, played bball with him, and even hung out socially with him. His name is Fred Sunday. "Hot Fudge" was very quick to point out in a previous blog that I failed to mention his presence when we shot up some stuff with guns. His comment to me was, "why didn't you say I was there? You're dead to me." I'm not an unreasonable man. I neither asked for, nor did I desire to anger my friend to the point of death of relationship. So Fred this is for you:
Fred is the man. When he was a linebacker for the Simon Frasier Klansmen, he was the man. When he coaches, he's the man. When he's hooping it up or lifting weights, he's the man. His baby boy Alexander Norman Charles Sunday (the correct order escapes me), or Xander, is the man. Even his wife Jackie is the man. He's so far above us, we're like ropes hanging off the Goodyear Blimp (movie quote anyone?). And I'm sorry for failing to mention the man when we went shooting.
Some wakeboarding pictures will be up soon.
4 comments:
Uh...I'm "Buddy"...and Fred begs & whines and gets "The Man" as his title? Que the Bull S*** chant any time here! By the way...I have been freezing water in all my empty milk jugs (and with a 65 pound 4 year old who loves Cinnamon Toast Crunch, that's a lot) so we can blow them up next range day!
Brad, my buddy, your post will happen soon enough. I even have the title figured out: Brad Phillips, Real Man of Genius. I've been filling up old jugs and bottles up, but I haven't thought to freeze them!
I'm filling bottles as well-- with my own urine. It's sterile and I like the taste.
Fred "The Man" Sunday
Dodgeball!!!
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