Last night, OG told me he'd call me at 9am to go for a run to the trials section in "undesclosed location". He eventually called me at about 10:00 and I was disgruntled to hear he wasn't planning on taking the entrenching tools with us to dig our pro section.
After some persuasion, I dropped the idea of the pro-section today as he was
about to start crying. And believe-you-me, when he starts, you can't stop it. He's
like a breeched Hoover Dam. It takes more than a cork to plug that hole.
Because I'm so smart, I checked my weather forecast and saw it was a bad idea
to leave the house unless it was on fire. Of course, as you may have noticed
in some previous episodes of "Dude, where's my logic", Orange Grips has the most
horrible sense of foresight when it comes to dark clouds and thunder being the
harbinger of rain. But he convinced me that it was "all past us now, and the morning
showers cannot penetrate the afternoon". We were off on Safari
with a relative newcomer who will rename unnamed as yet. Until he does something
really stupid. Although, personally, I believe pulling a face like this definatly
constitutes "doing something stupid" but whatever.
I got to OG's abode and, as like a great exclamation mark descended from the heavens, a great thunderclap manifested in the skies above. I looked at OG and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say "meh". The last time I saw a similar look was when he was removing an icecream cone from his mouth and brushing off the rocks and blood. But I'm sure you've heard that story before. After some technical problems (1, 2) with OG's bike, we set off into the rain to get soaked, just after we gave him a good pat on the back for being such a good pal.
To cut a painfully long story short (for the first time in my career), we ended up in Fremantle playing on Timezone's new airhocky table. As you can clearly see in this depiction, I'm about to start winning. OG and I played the shit out of their old table and were chuffed to see a new one there. $15 worth of airhocky and a cup of coffee (notice unnamed dude looking profoundly homosexual again.) and it was time to leave on our bikes which, because of the awesome weather, were dryer than atlantis.
In Conclusion:
Never listening to Orange Grips again in regards to the weather.
(I've actually already vowed this once before on a similar occasion, but I seem
to have recieved a downfall on that vow). And in real conclusion, that damn
trials line is doomed never to be photographed by the BMX SAFARI.
Till next time Gadget. Till next time...