Part Three

Man, you guys are obsessed with college football. Put down the stats for a second. Stop obsessing about every prognostication the ESPN Gameday crew gives. Here's a little secret- practice reports tell very little about an upcoming game. So kick back and enjoy a story from a life less ordinary.

I know I told yall the story about the bottle of wine. I told yall about the sequel too. Well it turns out that this storyline is a trilogy.. who knows, it may even become a TV series.

So I was buying some beer the other day and went through the normal routine of waiting in the checkout line. I read the tabloid headlines. I judged the people in front of me based upon their grocery purchases. And that's when I began the final step of my grocery line protocol: I began perusing the impulse items. There, nestled amidst the batteries and Snickers bars, was a bottle of Fat Bastard. Sold!

The bottle gathered dust over the weeks. Days began and nights concluded and there it sat. Until one day after a buffoonery-laden weekend capped off with fajitas- the bottle made its move. So we get back to my place.

'What do you want to do?'

'I don't know. Whatever.' Of course you don't know. Why should you know what you want to do? I assume I should know what you want to do. Well let me give you a little hint about us- I could probably read Mesopotamian cuneiform on crumbling papyrus before I could ever read you. Want to know what I want to do? No. You don't. Wanna know why? Because all I want to do is strip down, eat a block of cheese, and watch cartoons.

'How about you go pick out a movie while I go open a bottle of wine?'

So I enter the kitchen and begin what will become an epic battle with the Fat Bastard. After about 2 minutes of working with the bottle, the corkscrew breaks. #@$*!

Did that really just happen? I'm gonna guess the bottlers used an oversized cork on this one. Maybe the atmospheric pressure is off. No big deal.. I'll just wedge it out with some scissors.

(self-explanatory)

'What's Suicide Kings about?'

'Great choice hun! It has Christopher Walken in his prime and is one my favorites. Keep looking though, there are plenty of choices.' That should buy me some time.

It broke my corkscrew and my scissors. Let's see how it fares against the screwdriver and vice grips. So during this 15 minute battle I must have used a bit too much force which then broke part of the bottle and subsequently cut my thumb. Odd. This scenario sounds familiar. I just can't place it. Screw it. I'll hammer this knife through the cork. That should relieve the pressure like draining an abscess.. in theory. Unfortunately, all it led to was wine spraying me in the face. No big deal, that will just have to be my Red Badge of Courage then. So I take the vice and tug on the cork and it doesn't budge one bit (except that some of the broken glass that wasn't embedded in my thumb sank to the bottom of the bottle).

'Is everything ok?'

'What? Oh. Yep, everything's good. Just doing some cleaning.. want a beer? I'll be done in a second.'

Time to step into the arsenal garage. Well hello there Mr. Power Drill. So I drill into the cork. I loosen the periphery. I even find the broken piece of the corkscrew in it. After about 20 minutes of fighting, I take a break to rest. That's when I noticed how quiet it was. She had fallen asleep. I guess this way I won't have to concede defeat. So I took a seat and watched my cartoons.