Last night went like every other New Year's Eve for the past 5 years. Everyone's excited, I pop the champagne, My wife has one glass, and somehow between 10:00 and 11:00 everyone in the house but me falls dead asleep and 2 minutes before midnight I try to shake everyone awake to see the ball drop at Times Square and I end up failing utterly. This year I finally accepted that this is our family's New Year Tradition and just started polishing off the bottle of champagne myself and surfing the interwebs.
In my random bubbly induced clicking I came upon Scott Crawford's last pack of 2010. A fine pack indeed, what with the Brian McCann gold card. Scott included a link to a caption contest that was ending at midnight in the post. I had missed this contest earlier, but I'll take advantage of any chance to put words into the mouth of the Ol' Perfessor. I only had about 20 minutes to come up with something but thankfully I work best under pressure. I posted my caption 2 minutes before the deadline. Well lookie here, I won!
I am fairly proud of this last minute bit of silliness so I'll reprint it here. I'm gonna steal the image of the card too, cause that's how I roll.
C - ...so Mickey brought this dame right back to the locker room. Gorgeous broad... platinum blonde, blue eyes that stare right through yuz, the reddest lips youse ever saw, legs that just kept on goin, and a body... looked like two blimps crashing into the State Capitol building. Anyways, the dame was three sheets to the wind and shes only drinkin the good stuff y'know? French bubbly. Mickey neva passes up a drinking buddy so he wuz drinkin it wid' her. Drank two or tree bottles of the stuff and was burpin' up a storm. Sos they walk right inta the clubhouse making a racket, the broad's clothes were half off already. Yogi's eyes about popped right out of his head, scared poor Turley half to death. I hadta shoo 'em both into my office before Weiss found 'em out. So these two drunk bastids are flopping around my office trying to get ta foist base but they're so blotto that they're running ta third instead. Then alluva sudden Mick bolts upright, lets out a huge belch and races for the can like a bat outta hell. The bubbly went right through him and the burps was now comin' out the wrong side. So now this broad is completely sloshed and bent over my desk. I tells her "Hey! Ya dumb broad! Get outta here! you're messin up my lineup cards!" She turns around, looks at me and flips me tha boid! She sez "Make me, ya old goat!" and flops back down on the desk laughin. So I sees that big ol' rump wavin' up in th' air and reach out and PINCH! that dizzy dame right in the derrier! She yelps like a stuck pig and hot foots it out of the clubhouse right past ol' George!
D - Ha ha! That's funny, Casey!
C - ..and that's how I know yer wife.