i wish it was sunday, cause that's my funday

Hit me with the rock. The latest news in blogsylvania is that Sir Donnie and I have been getting a rather frisky on the athletic front. Oh yes, you are still able to read words and process their frost-brewed meanings correctly. Sportz!

No more hypodermic handball courts for us, we've moved up to the big leagues, and by that I mean to say that we have taken to playing basketball in the playground of an Hasidic elementary school with 12-14 year old young men who come from what we narrow-mindlessly assume are public housing projects. The tougher they seem, the better we feel, because we have been kicking their collective asses.



And don't start thinking it's because we are at all 'good' at this sport of ball and basket. No, we are not. Or that those legally-defined as 'children'/our opponents are necessarily 'bad'. No, they are truly very good at bouncing and throwing the ball around the court, yes they are.

If you really need to know, it's because we are physically taller than they are.

Ohhhh I've watched with tears of joy in my eyes as Sir Donathon, standing in one spot, attempts the same lay-up an astounding eleven times. Missing every time. Gathering every rebound. And the pathetic minors jump and slap at his tank top-clad and tattooed torso, screaming "It's just cause they tall!" Mmmm, and their older brothers watch and laugh at the whole thing from the sideline. Oh sweet winged victory, we shall lock thee in our basement pit of empty pride for all eternity.