By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run columnist
Sometime around 6 p.m. Saturday, I turned to The Godfather and asked, "do you just want to go back to the Village?"
I had had it. Couldn't get drunk at the Varsity Club. Tired of talking and/or answering questions. Tired of being told my hair used to look better or that I'm too picky or about bowel movements. Tired of tension surrounding talking about politics and hatred toward feminism. Silly libs.
Wanted to move on (dot org) and regroup.
Had the night mapped out in my head: Go home, relax, shower, head back out around 10 or 11 p.m.
His answer? A resounding "no." He wanted to go meet up with some people at B-Dubs and we did. And my quest to drink 430 beers without getting a buzz moved due east, as the crow flies along Lane Avenue to B-Dubs.
Saw a couple of friends of my sister and ate 78 boneless chicken wings. Did that thing where you sit down after six hours of drinking in the sun. That's always fun.
Thought the night was complete but The Godfather (The Godfather!) wanted to move to The Little Bar. That I can't complain about. I enjoy The Little Bar, formerly Lee's Market, no doubt some kind of speakeasy in the 1990s. You remember that place? Of course you do. I remember I ate dinner a couple of times at those apartments across the street. Friends of Johnny Jihad lived there. My how times have changed. Not really.
Thought it was good seeing Esq. earlier in the day at The Varsity Club. She's pretty fun to talk to. She says funny shit about shit and doesn't seem to have the filter thing in her brain. I asked about NJAG (haven't heard from her in a month after hearing from her daily for two weeks) and living in Cincinnati.
The day kind of represented the weekend. OK. Borderline bad. Hopefully the worst of the football season. The bar always is raised high on gamedays. And it was cool seeing Rainbow Bright and her people, but I would have liked to have done more.
Friday night it rained buckets right around the time I wanted to head out. If I hear one more fucking person say, "we need it!" I'm going to do nothing. Just pisses the shit out of me. If it's raining, it's Friday night in central Ohio.
Even the EGG let us down, although that's more because of the Browns performance. The EGG Guys were there, as were the bevy of bitties they travel with. Fuck. Me and The 1 came alone. That's what she said.
"Entourage" was OK. That's a pitfall of a 23-minute show. They had a lot to catch up on and they got things rolling for season five.
I'm probably being more hard (that's what she said) on the weekend than I need to be, but it just ... Ohio State is lousy and the Browns are worse. I am tired of rooting for the Clowns. They have the worst fucking pass rush I've ever seen. They run fades to the sideline on 3rd and 2. They fumble snaps on 3rd and 1. They give up first downs on every third down. They drop balls. They miss tackles. Same. Old. Browns.
They have a ZERO PERCENT chance of beating Pittsburgh this weekend. In the past year, I've rocked a "ZERO PERCENT chance" on three games (Indians/Sox Game 7, Indians/ChiSox in May, Indians/Rockies in June) and I've been right 100 percent of the time.
I thought of something really odd about OSU football. Since I moved to the German Village on Oct. 14, 2005, the Ohio State Buckeyes are 31-1 in regular season games. That's fucking crazy. While they don't have a ZERO PERCENT chance this weekend against USC, they aren't winning. I am Mr. Optimism on OSU Football, but they are going to get rolled. Take it from me. Do not THINK WE ARE GOING TO WIN. Don't. Enjoy the game. Enjoy Saturday leading up to it. Enjoy the fact that I'll be out in Manhattan Beach.
Just know that when this column comes back next week, Ohio State will be the second team listed in the headline again.
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