Ground control to Major Tom, come in Major Tom

So I woke up this morning, and for some reason I couldn't place, I felt like a little piece of me was missing. Something didn't feel quite right.

Then I looked down at my leg and remembered the huge chunks of skin missing from diving all around during soccer last night. Playing goalie will do that to you, you know. Hopefully, the quality of my game isn't directly proportional to the amount of my body I sacrifice to the turf. I'm not willing to suffer skin grafts just for a shut out. AS it is, I was on the ground a lot last night, and we lot 7-2, so I'm thinking it's just the opposite. Oh well, live and learn.

Band practice numero uno is tomorrow night. Our bassist's name is Ozze, so I think we're in good shape, eh? Also: we have another 'other' gal this time, but much to my delight, she plays an actual instrument or three. One of them happens to me sax, so if we take advantage of that, I see no reason why sweet victory can't be ours. Hopefully no one recognizes me as "The Guy from the band with the crappy lead singer."

What else to say...


Canoes are your friend, as is Janice's grandma's roast beüf. Yum.


NOIBN,
Dave