Around 12:15 arms aching and bladders bursting the distinct sound of Bruce Springstein's "Born in the USA" filled the air. Followed by Droppie yelling "Incoming". As Old Number 9 himself, in uniform, as always, fired from atop the forty foot pontoon houseboat, round after round of water balloons from his sling.
Lunch consisted of grilled filets, garnished with some grilled red peppers and yellow squash, a German potato salad, a cabernet from the Napa Valley and for desert, although they did not realize it at the time, prunes cooked in burgundy wine.
The canoes were tied to the stern of the Houseboat and a leisurely afternoon drinking beer and taking naps ensued. Ironically about 4 in the afternoon each managed to commandeer a computer, and between 4 and 5 pm they posted to each other in the Grotto as if in fact they were not already together.
DDF: Where is everybody.
Susie. I'm right here
Chu: WHAT'S IT TO YOU MORON?????!!!!
Derf: I am at a stripper club. I bet you could get a job here.
Susie: Derf!!
DDF: Who are you calling a moron.
Raz: What's going on Droppie.
Derf: What? It pays well.
Sox: I just love it when you speak in caps lock.
Susie: I know I am going to regret this but.... How much?
Mr Scoredough: Only three minutes. I could sell the whole idea in only three minutes.
Low: Gee and I forgot my egg timer.
And so forth, until around 5 when Raz proposed they all play some cards. And although Low argued long and hard for a round or two of bridge, just so he could at least once make the bid 'one no trump.' Derf won out in the end and they set into a long night of poker.
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