9

So Cathy brings the payment for Rebel8 in last night. I get a ride with her home. Ella is with her as well. She brought the check in at around eight, so she leaves Ella with me while she goes and does some grocery shopping at Cub Foods for an hour. When we are about leave, I roll my bike and feel that the front is flat. I go EFFFFFFFFFFF. I get home and pump the tire up. I get it pumped up because I planned to go to the Nomad and Triple Rock later. Cathy gets out the car and notices theres mint leaves or a bush full of them in from on the walk where her headlights were pointing, and picks them, I went whoa. She grabs that and I go inside. I start watching Wall Street and end up watching about an hour or forty five minutes. Head to shower and start heading to West Bank. I had a worry that my front tire may deflate again. I get to Triple Rock and chill there for about a half hour. I didn't want to drink there, then go to Nomad and drink again. Triple Rock was alright. It was busy as usual. King Otto was on the tables for tonight while I was there. I left my place like eleven or so and got to Triple Rock at like half past. I wish I got there earlier. I would have been able to drink and enjoy myself more there. Ashley W. is there and bounces along with me to Nomad around midnight. My front tire is alright then. I lock up and head in. A lot of familiar faces were inside and such. I eventually head to grab some beers since it was 241 after midnight there. I ask the dude bartender for Blue Moon, out. I ask for Grain Belt Premium, out. Next choice was Summit for me. He gets me one, then I ask for another. The tab comes to eleven. I am scratching my head, is this 241s? I text around today, and see I guess it was not a tap, domestic, or rail drink. Fucking A. I am never ordering at the Nomad myself again. Fuck that. No sir. I drink, I dance. Same old shits. This night though, it was Dustin Ruff's going away get together type shits. He is being sent off to Missouri due to his job transfer. There ends up some fight between some fat black dude and another, that I did not see on the floor. Dustin gets in the middle of the fight trying to break it up. I end up going outside and deciding to leave around this time of the night. It is fifty after one. The six's last bus of the night is eleven after two I think. I get to my bike and feel the front tire. The shit is dead deflated. I call up Mel see if she was at her place to crash since it was sort of close, she was out her sister's. I call up Becca, she is snoozing. I hit up Rach, no answer. I say FUCK it, and start walking. This is my route. I stopped at the SuperAmerica on Lyndale by Caffetto's. I copped  two fire dogs for two sixteen. The cashier though I got a corn-dog since I used a corn-dog sleeve, and tried to charge me like three something for the two. I put mustard, ketchup, diced unions, and relish on both dogs. I tried the chili on one of them. That shit was bomb as fuck for it being kind of chilly color and three in the morning food. It was cheap and filling, and did not give me weird shits this morning or today so far. Franz apparently grabbed a corn-dog and tornado at a similar time or so, according to his Facebook status. I get home around four. It took me about two hours or so, including SuperAmerica hot dog pit stop, to get from West Bank Nomad World Pub to Uptown, via long way. I went long way because I was not going to be walking through Franklin street full of them crack-heads with an expensive bike like mine. I got home and crashed sort of. I tried to watch some more of Wall Street, but failed miserably, and fell asleep about half past four or five in the morning. I slept for about only three or four hours. I was up and boy did I not feel well of course. I get dressed and such and head to work. I finished Wwall Street at work today. Manchester United won their match today in the last minutes with Chicharito scoring as well. Today has been alright thus far. Tonight's plans are to do nothing. Tomorrow night's plans? NOTHING. I do not want to do anything until Friday night. I can not really do anything as well. My bike is out of commission until Vince buys me a new tubular, which will cost upwards to about sixty to seventy dollars.

Sayonara.
p.s. enjoy reading the big block of text as well......my brain is lazy to think about formatting.....