So Berean happened and there was some pain doled out. More importantly:
Bel-Air arrived after apparently another long night of online chess-playing vs. Helga in Helsinki. He bemoaned in exasperation over the lack of in-person competition… and let me quote exactly here – "No one wants to play chess at 3 am."
After running exactly 63 yards, Croc complained that he "didn't know this was a running workout" and he stopped to plank in front of the pure barre crazy drivers for the duration of the workout.
Canuck abstained from any astronomical observations, instead turning his calculations to figuring out exactly how many push-ups we did this morning. After extensive ciphering and carrying several ones and dividing by the opposite reciprocal factorials, he determined that we did precisely 194 miles of push-ups. Good job Canuck.
Despite looking lean and getting fast, Caesar prefaces every single weekly diet story with, "I was doing good until (fill in the blank with some story about tailgating or bar-hopping)…. "
Possum's Pink Posse was all aglow after a fantastic showing in the Ruck division of the Sweet Tooth 8k! BZ Possum and Posse!!
Thug thundered thrugh our midst as he was enroute to parts unknown. Wherever he went, he was back in time for coffee.
Speaking of coffee, Talking Heads aka Mr. Heads LIFO'd, but he persisted in his expanding search until he found us and then he made up for his tardy slip by providing the java. AYE Mr. Heads! We are jittery, but grateful for your morning offering.
Cubicle rode hard with some high hair but a deep voice. He opined that the 'Mericans were just what he needed. YHC aims to please.
As for YHC, I was able to fumble through another Berean after a late night/early morning of celebrating another trip on the big ball by spending the evening with Sir Elton John.
All hands contributed to the always-interesting MMQ conversation, to which Roadie arrived just in time to hear about God and a bunch of cocaine.
Memori Morti shipmates! What a morning we had!
Goat sends.