Happy Hour In The Heptarchy: Apple Fritters & Grapefruit Soda
It’s five past 5 across Conference III (leave work early, Colorado — you have our permission, if you’re in fact working today, which seems unlikely), time to hit bricks and get that freakin’ weekend started, am I right?
Of course I am.
It’s been a tough week for some of you so loosen your belt, pop a top, grab a spoon and stop being such a sourpuss. III Communication’s got good news for everybody.
What We’re Eating: At my father-in-laws house last night, I saw an unopened box of grocery store apple fritters. Judging by the date on the box, they were a few days old, but still unopened and were on top of the refrigerator. Certainly, if I had asked him, he would have let me have one or all of them — which is great because I am a massive fan of the apple fritter — as I am the father of his granddaughter. But what if he was saving them for later. On the other hand, what if he didn’t know anything about it? What if he would have only remembered the existence of the fritter because I asked him about it? Then he would have gotten excited about the once-lost fritter and then said “Oh, but I should let him have one.” His heart wouldn’t have been in it. But they were not in a conspicuous place and if he had forgotten about them, I could have eaten that whole box of delicious pastries and he’d have been none the wiser. Unless he did know they were there and then he’d be wondering where those damn apple fritters went. These are the decisions which shape our everyday lives. You should make a decision to give your old buddies at III Communication a hand.
What We’re Drinking: While I love orange soda, there is something exotic about grapefruit soda. Fresca, Squirt, whatever. It is the adult version of the orange soda. Be it the neutral colored Fresca or one of the pink-neon colored varieties, it exudes exotica in a way that other citrus sodas do not (lemon-lime sodas are Burger King, orange sodas are a retro-50s diner, grapefruit sodas are one of those bespoke burger places). I’d drop a little vodka in it and call it a Fuzzy Puppy if I kept vodka in the house, which I don’t.
Reasons To Celebrate
Chicago: The days with the Cup are super-funny this year because it’s like they have to jam them all in a shortened off-season. Here’s the Cup with Rush! Here’s the Cup with the White Sox! Here’s the Cup in some god-forsaken Eastern European village! If you are the kind of person who has a man-cave, here’s an item for you!
Your Weekend Jam: “Around the World” by Daft Punk
Colorado: Congratulations on Nathan “Fleetwood” MacKinnon. He seems great. And while you may be bummed that internet cafes A) still exist and 2) are limiting your power, there’s a whole mess of beer on the highway in Wheat Ridge.
Your Weekend Jam: “Secondhand News” by Fleetwood Mac
Dallas: Goodness gracious, Jim Nill did a bang up job. The young Russian, the older fake Russian, Tyler Seguin. You’ve got more new centers than a fresh bag of donut holes down there, which forced Nashville — for Chambers Pot purposes — to go sign 9000 centers.. And Beyonce! When you sleep on Dallas, Conference III, they’ll come in with My Bloody Valeri Nichushkin.
Your Weekend Jam: “When You Sleep” by My Bloody Valentine
Minnesota: Not only did you finally draft a good Minnesota boy, which is no doubt being lauded as the finest move in all of the storied history of your franchise, but Minnehana Creek is on its way back after its human neighbors made a big effort to fix it!
Your Weekend Jam: “Up on Cripple Creek” by The Band
Nashville: Can’t hear ya. Flag’s flapping.
Your Weekend Jam: “America” by Neil Diamond
St. Louis: There is no beef sillier than sports-talk beef and I say this as a person who has engaged in it. But cool stuff here: one of St. Louis’ 590,339 vacant buildings will become an apartment complex for homeless vets.
Your Weekend Jam: “Hoody Hoo” by Tru
Winnipeg: Bears. Be safe, Manitoba.
Your Weekend Jam: “Bears” by Lyle Lovett