Tomorrow is the big day. Finally, after years of lurking and then hesitant posting, I’d have a chance to meet some Minnesota Glibs. I’m a little excited, not in a sexual way, but more in “be prepared for a science test in high school” way. So it’s off to bed, hoping to get a good night’s sleep.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow…somewhere in the darkness I drifted off to sleep, just like Kenny Rogers’ “Gambler.” I’m all prepared, I have my clothes all laid out. I’d ironed my newest bib overalls, using spray starch to get the crisp crease, found my Christmas flannel shirt and I want to look my best so I’m going to wear the bow tie that has the flashing lights. I’ll have to remember to check the batteries to make sure the lights work alternately and will switch to both lights blinking together. As I get ready I decide to use some hair pomade but Dixie Peach is hard to find here so I went with the regular brand. I opened up the can of Bag Balm and it was nearly empty! I was able to use my little finger around the corners of the can and got about a tablespoon, not much but it will have to do. I made a mental note to get the economy size the next time I was in Tractor Supply. I want everything to be perfect, first impressions are important, just as Miss Sawyer said in English class.
For a while I had thought for the occasion I’d wear my white painter’s bibs, the ones that have the Dickie’s logo on the patch in the front, but I couldn’t get enough of pine tar out of the knees from the day I helped my friend Gus unload a truck full of rough sawed pine. Besides, it’s not formal and the fashion magazines all say no white after Labor Day. Boots for the meet up ’cause I want to look manly but I won’t turn the socks down, I don’t want to appear pretentious. I checked my bow tie, making sure the wire to the batteries was hidden inside my shirt, a trick I’d learned from my older brother. I’d better stop and get extra batteries, I don’t want the lights to quit blinking halfway through the meet up. Checked myself in the ceiling mirror in the bedroom and I knew I was ready.
Make the long drive to Minneapolis-actually to a northern suburb-to meet Pope Jimbo, Tundra and A Leap at the Wheel for the very first time. I know these fellas from their witticisms on the Glibertarians site. I don’t really know them, but I mean that’s where I’ve seen their well thought out insights and comedy efforts that always produce either awe or a hearty chuckle. We’re meeting at the Conference Room in Caribou Coffee and I admit to being a little nervous.
I check in with the receptionist, a pert but matronly young lady- I would guess a high school drop out with two kids but studying for her GED ’cause her boyfriend wants her to get into Cosmetology School so she can work when he’s laid off in the winter. Right now she’s senior barista, cashier and table clean up, as well as Glibertarians receptionist.
She directed me down the hall to Conference Room 3, but reminded me to use the Secret Knock. Oh, oh, I wasn’t prepared for that, but she whispers, “Shhh, middle two fingers, rap twice but firmly, wait exactly ten seconds, then flat palm the door, you’ll hear a ‘Come In’. Immediately open the door and enter.”
Nervously, I approach the Conference Room. It had a large brass 3 on the door and below that someone has written “Janitor’s Closet” in magic marker. I use the Secret Knock, wait 10 seconds and follow it up with a flat palm. A voice from inside says, “Come in.” I try the door knob, one, two, three times, then the voice says…“Turn the knob in the other direction.” I do and the door opens. At this point I know I’ve committed a “Folks Pass” as we said in sophomore French Class.
There is a folding leg card table in the middle of the room, four chairs, three men. I quickly survey the faces and try to put a name on each, from my observations of their comments. I recognize the more serious looking one as Leap, the good looking one as Tundra, and the happy one as Pope Jimbo. Now I approach the table and we start with the introductions. Leap stands up and offers his hand and says, “I’m Tundra.” I kiss his ring, noticing that it was the Monopoly Scottie dog. I go to Pope Jimbo, we shake, I kiss his ring which is the top hat and he says, “I’m A Leap at the Wheel, but you can call me Leap.” Now the last one, Tundra, is left and we repeat the formal introduction, his ring is the thimble, super glued in an inverted position, open end up. He says, “And I’m Pope Jimbo, but you can call me Pope or Jimbo or Mr J or Mr P but you don’t have to call me Johnson.” They all laugh.
I start to sit down and I hear, “There are rules, Dude,” whispered from an unknown. I look up and see that sitting down first is Leap, followed by Pope Jimbo, lastly Tundra. Leap waves me into the empty chair. “We’ve been looking over your application and biography and find you’ve had a rather interesting life. The time you pushed the girl out of the way while getting on the school bus makes us believe you are a take charge kind of person.” I nodded, they were seeing things correctly. “And the time you saved your friend Bobby from walking into a puddle without probing the depth first was nothing short of heroic.” I was a little embarrassed at having to acknowledge these personal feats, but I really wanted to be accepted as a Glib.
I looked across the room and saw a shelf with three caps, lined up like marines on parade. These were not knock-offs but genuine Glib merchandise, custom embroidered. From left to right they read:
“Glibs Yesterday” then “Glibs Today” and lastly “Glibs Tomorrow”
I could see a white plastic bag with a red cap in it that said “Glibs Forever” and an empty space on the shelf. I knew that would be mine if all went well today.
Suddenly, the informalities were over and a certain aura fell over the room. Tundra announced that he had copies of the day’s agenda; I could participate in the discussion, but was not allowed to vote. He passed the agendas out and for my benefit explained the rules. There were ten subjects on the agenda that had been submitted and ranked according to their importance. Each person would have 90 seconds to discuss the implications and on to the next person. After everyone had a chance to speak, each person would get 30 seconds to summarize or rebut, then a vote would be taken. Leap would be the moderator, Tundra the time keeper because he had an official Special Olympics stopwatch with the big numbers, and Pope acting as a sort of controller, using a power point pointer (with the light on it) to signify who was in the on deck circle.
So the discussion started. First item, how high should the wall be on the Mexican border that was being discussed nationally? A lively discussion with a lot of emotion, economics and established facts followed. I found it difficult to keep up because of the speed and coherence of the conversation.
It was like this all afternoon, as agenda item after item was dissected and remodeled in a Glibertarian format. At one point someone mentioned MikeS’s idea/opinion and I pointed out that he was not a Minnesota Glib, but I heard the “There are rules, Dude” repeated so I dropped it.
At the conclusion of the agenda discussion Happy Hour commenced and all formalities were dropped, everyone was relaxed, on a first name basis, like Leap, Pope and Tundra because it was hard to shorten up his name but still he didn’t seem to mind. The conversation was generally surly, sarcastic and offensive, much like the daily comments I’d come to enjoy from Glibs. Soon, however, the time had come to say goodbye. I felt I’d made an average to good impression. We all walked out together, laughing, enjoying the Glib camaraderie.
As I got into my truck I noticed the same white plastic bag I’d seen in the conference room. Somehow the receptionist had sneaked that bag into the truck without me noticing. My heart was pounding. I opened up the bag, and there it was. A red hat with Glib embroidered on it and below that was “Forever.” I was in! Hat on, I sped out of the parking lot and was heading for home when I felt something bam-bam-bam in my back. “Uh-uh-uh” was all the sound I could make.
“Wake up! Wake up! You were talking in your sleep again, some crazy thing about the Pope being A Sleep at the Wheel and driving on the Tundra.”
Then it hit me, I’d been dreaming the dream of every novice Glib…
Comments
162 responses to “Minnesota Nice Meetup”
you can call me Pope or Jimbo or Mr J or Mr P but you don’t have to call me Johnson.
I feel terribly old getting that reference.
#Metoo
All of us except Evan do.
Yeah, but that guy really milked his 15 minutes.
Catch-phrases used to be everything. Do we do catch phrases any more? I can’t think of any…
Don’t have a cow man.
“fetchez la vache”
*googles*
Shit, it’s what I thought it was.
Yup.
Confirmed I’m officially old.
I guess I’m a bit too young.
I remember that.
I almost met Athena…….
/sad Glib
I almost met Tundra. BUT HE SNUBBED US.
I almost met Tundra too. I played at his local hockey rink, but I didn’t notice he commented on one of my posts until it was too late.
You and OMWC can count your blessings. Almost is the best way to meet Tundra.
Wow, that’s exactly how it went down. You can keep the minutes at our next meeting Fourscore.
Agreed. Minnesoda has a new official Secretary of Glib
That’s nice.
Fourscore is too humble to toot his own horn, so I will. Another reason that he is going to be a great Secretary of Glib is because he submitted the first Glib application in history to be written in actual ink.
Tundra and Leap both submitted applications written in crayon (Tundra’s was also on a brown paper bag). As a Memphis State alum my application was way less fancy.
Posers. Mine was written in blood. T’weren’t mine, either.
Was this meet-up publicized in advance?
That’s what I want to know!
I love these sort of ‘It was Football, is what it was” type pieces. Sorta. Good job, sir.
Agreed, a real fun read, great work 20×4
Very well written and entertaining read.
I love using Bag Balm for hair pomade.
I haven’t thought about that stuff in years, but somehow I can still smell it.
That was fun! Well, except the mirror on the ceiling was a little creepy.
I was hoping it would go to a more R-rated place….
“and then the Glib harem came out of a secret door in the bookshelf, all of them Minnesota pretty and most of them still having all of their teeth…”
/grew up in Indiana, doesn’t have any room to talk
What Fourscore didn’t tell you is that the Caribou is right next to a yoga studio. Tundra still hasn’t stopped complaining about the time that he got stuck with his back to the sidewalk. He was tired of the rest of us trailing off in mid conversation and staring slackmouthed out the window.
Who needs teeth when they’ve got yoga pants?
That’s why I was early last time.
Bastards.
Not after SugarFree, yesterday….
I was glad of this work, to try and put the tatters of my soul back together.
OT: I’ll be in Charleston SC from Tues-Thursday next week.
Suggestions for restaurants?
Possible meet up?
Maybe not that far off topic.
This is not exactly the answer to your question, since it isn’t a restaurant, but you may want to check out Ravenel Fresh Seafood. It’s a take-out place, and you go there for the steamed crabs. If you have a “home base” that you can carry them to and eat (very messy), that is.
Thanks, might check them out.
I use to go to Charleston SC regularly. I can recommend that you go to Hyman’s Seafood
On topic… central Ohio Glibs, I’ll be down in the Canal Winchester area August 24th for BrewDog’s AGM (Annual General Mayhem – the shareholder’s meeting/beerfest). It looks like they may be offering up some GA tickets for non-shareholders this year as well (which will allow later entry, and go on sale on May 24th). I’ll also be near Buckeye Lake the last weekend of May for the punk festival happening down there.
A folding table? Why not just have your orphans construct one for you?
Why not just have orphans hold everything for you? Or at least use the orphans as the table. Even put your feet up on them.
Even better. It’s not like you’re paying them anyway
Do you need to remove your shoes first?
Pool people don’t have to take their shoes off. Pond people do.
You NoDaks are more of a pond type of people.
Pool…pond…anything would be good.
Sorry to go OT, but I’m curious as to what people think of my reasoning here. In response to this article, Instapundit suggested that perhaps we should revive dueling. I respond:
I had a former coworker who posted some nonsense about how we are suppose to punch Nazis because they are existential threat to our society. I asked that if after you punched the Nazis in the face and he beat your ass, would you press charges against the Nazis? He gave some mealy mouthed answer but he never thought of the possibility of one of the Nazis defending themselves.
So I’m assuming he’s never met an actual Nazi, just someone to the right of *insert current Dem leader here* “nazi”.
It’s Chicago. Even if there was a Nazi, they wouldn’t be dumb enough to make an appearance.
*insert Illinois Nazis gif here*
“Gruppenfuehrer, get the license plate of that car.”
I actually crossed paths with Clark Martell on an El platform once back in my misguided youth. I was wearing my oxblood bomber that had a huge SHARP patch on it, and for a moment I was certain we were going to brawl as he and one of his goons started approaching me. Instead he tried to hand me one of his weird pamphlets which I declined just as my train was pulling up. This was the only time I have ever witnessed an actual real life neo-Nazi in Chicago, and anybody that says the city is teeming with them can go fuck a duck.
True, real actual Nazis tend to be rather good at violence.
I saw what I am pretty sure was a for-real Nazi a few months ago in my local subway station, complete with tatts and jerky arm-waving like the voices in his head were telling him to be ready to explode at something any moment, walking up and down the platform, up and down, finally stopping at one remote end, because of course. I didn’t say Hi.
I went to a Fear show at Brick by Brick in San Diego in 1999 or 2000 that was shut down after maybe four songs because a handful of Nazi skinheads were trying to start a riot. Not fun.
Yeah, it seems like the real white supremacists come in two flavors: those who have just their skin color to hang onto as their only redeeming feature (look for the Preacher KKK image for an example), or those who truly believe and dedicate themselves to be as fucking terrifying as possible. Thankfully, the punk/ska scene around here had a very large number of SHARPs and Trojan Skins (not to be confused with the condoms).
Interestingly, if you assault someone, particularly for their speech/stated beliefs, you are the one behaving like a Nazi.
Showing us that the true monster was man the whole time.
/looks for Rod Serling
I see some problems with this. First, just because you challenge me to a duel doesn’t mean that I have to agree to it. If I engage in behavior that is so reprehensible that you challenge me to a duel, what compels me to accept? After all, I’ve already shown that I’m capable of reprehensible behaviors. Why not add cowardice to that list? Second, what if I engage in this terrible behavior, you challenge me to a duel, and I win? The awful behavior continues. No. Dueling is too nice.
Here’s my modest proposal: drawing and quartering the perpetrator by four huge draft horses in front of 80,000 screaming, bloodthirsty fans during halftime of the Super Bowl. I guarantee that if you just took one schmuck who was, say, trolling an internet forum without cessation and carried out such a punishment, internet trolls would think twice before trolling. All manner of odious activity would be curtailed.
It would be kind of like when New Kids on the Block performed in the 1991 halftime show, only bloodier and more entertaining.
My Glib meetings were similar in the first few moments. Trying to picture and locate Straffin in outside of one of the busiest train stations in the world at night was interesting. I at least was able to look for my stereotype of a Midwesterner who lived in Japan for along time. The other meet up was much simpler: meet me here in a public place, my wife knows where I am, I’m likely packing, etc.
Both ended the same way, with fun had by all and a murderous hangover the next day.
Is the Big Twist to your story the fact that Straffin is really an average Japanese woman? She is married to a oafish lout from Wisconsin and she posts as him on Glibs.
She vents on Glibs by writing really stupid things that she thinks her dumb husband would really say. It helps her vent her frustration at him and at herself for choosing such a poor husband. And also maybe if she says something bad enough the authorities will come take him away.
The reason none of us ever guessed what was happening is because we are just as dumb as her husband and are so lacking in social graces that it takes a powerful scientific instrument to detect them.
Mrs. Straffin…….is that you?
I’m picturing a white guy in a kimono.
(Yes, kimono are worn by both men and women for those who weren’t aware.)
Not a Kimono. It was also about 105F out that day/night
Ahh, so a yukata! 😉
https://www.fuukakimono.com/gallery_eng/170705-kyoto-fuukakimono-male-yukatasummer-kimono-japanese-dying/
Very thin and lightweight although I’ve never seen a guy with the “handbag” pictured here.
That’s his European carry-all.
Murse!
It’s those black nylon unstructured briefcase bags with the big loop handles that look more like a women’s accessory.
I’m glad meeting up with straff made meeting me less weird.
1) You misspelled Minnesoda in the title
2) Tundra is the good looking one?
3) You left early. You missed the branding ceremony. The hat is only the public symbol of your Glibness. If you ever meet SP or OMWC they will make you drop trou to verify that you have the correct brand on the correct body part. Next time you get back to town, we can take care of that.
2) Only because I wasn’t there
2) Not good, great.
And so humble.
Much laugh. Many chuckle.
Great accounting of a truly historic event, Fourscore!
Sloopy was supposedly coming to Richmond last year, and then he pretty much stopped posting.
I remember that, I was going to drive up if it ever happened.
I think the only other Glib actually in RVA is PBR Streetgang. You’re in Tidewater somewhere, right?
Suffolk about 80 miles from Richmond.
I’m in Norfolk. It seems like most of the Virginia glibs are closer to the Richmond dc area.
It’s like you guys don’t even pay attention to me. ///southside *holds back tears*
I thought you were out west in the mountains. Who am I thinking of then?
Honestly, south of the river is like the far side of the moon, though….hehe
I think Tonio is from Richmond and Scruffy is down my way.
I thought you were out west in the mountains. Who am I thinking of then?
Probably me. The closest large VA city to me is Roanoke.
That’s right, you are, but there’s someone else too
Meeting you reprobates in meatspace would blow my cover.
/they’re out to get me
I thought you were non-corporeal anyway.
I’m pretty sure that not only does his sheet tear if it gets snagged on a nail, but a leg gets exposed when it happens.
http://hubblesite.org/news_release/news/2019-25
IANA astronomer or physicist, but… Could it be a mystery because our premise has been wrong, the premise being that a Big Bang is the root cause? …that all we observe happening is a result of an explosion? Would it make a difference to think in terms of something – outside the edge of the expanding universe – pulling all of the observable matter towards it? Maybe it’s more of a Big Suck than a Big Bang.
/wishing it was Beer:30
Like a harmonica, Suck, Blow, Suck?
It’s possible the methods just suck, or blow
Quantum Chromatic Dynamics
” just suck, or blow”
Both: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPPsSeDR_iI
Dark energy is unmitigated horseshit.
Dark matter I can buy; the idea that there is some kind of matter that is non-emitting is plausible.
Dark energy, however, is duct tape that’s used to hold together modern cosmology. Better explanations have always been needed.
Q commenting on a Big Suck theory is most apropos.
It may be duct tape, but it’s duct tape that works really, really well.
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLsPUh22kYmNA6WUmOsEEi32zi_RdSUF4i
TMM;DW: Vacuum energy is (probably) a thing.
My problem is that the whole thing is built on accurate measures of redshift. If those measurements are bad and/or the nature of the measurement itself is not completely understood, then the whole thing falls apart (eg: tired light). Then the bottom drops out of the whole thing; our understanding of age, distance, motion the whole Mcgillicuddy falls apart. Not saying that’s true, but I’ve always been unimpressed with the number of post-hoc band aids needed to hold it all together.
And you’re right, vacuum energy probably exists, and you might be right that it encompasses the mythical “dark energy”. Current Big Bang cosmology, however is, to my mind, hideously ad hoc and inelegant.
Video about the problem in the article: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72cM_E6bsOs
Laughing my ass off! Fourscore, that was genius!
Minne Glibs are the finest Glibs.
It is known.
Wait a minute, I’m not a Minnesota Glib…..
Everyone here is Minnesoda Nice. Only a few are Minnesoda Glib.
Surprised there are so many Minnesota Glibs considering the state appears to be collapsing into a proggy black hole.
Isn’t it one of those states where the vast majority of the state is fairly solid but dragged heavily to the left by a couple of large cities?
A short primer on MN politics, in GIF format:
Twin City DFL (they are our left-of-isle party, because reasons): HEY YOU GUIES I GOTS AN IDEA
Iron Range DFL’s who represent historically blue voting conservatives
Statewide R representatives who are occasionally empowered with a voter mandate to roll back gun control laws.
MN police union be like
Dang.
For a transplant, you really grasp the disfunction. Well done.
If I ever met Tundra I don’t know if I could get over the fact that he doesn’t look like Steve Hanson… Or maybe he does.
Not that good looking!
Uffda. Made the mistake of googling for Steve Hansen from a Minnesoda IP. Lots and lots and lots of results here in our fine state.
Fairly sure Tundra’s had an impromptu conversation with Chris Hanson once or twice though…
You need to set something up at the border so the Iowa glibs can meet up too.
While not at the border the Honey Harvest in the third Sunday in Sep. Leaves are changing color farther north. You might even see a real live Glib or two, not like those in the cages in the zoo. I’m talking in the wild Glibs. Even golf courses…
I have that penciled in on my calendar. I’ll know better by late summer.
I would tell you that Fourscore’s Honey Harvest is a great time. He’s great, his wife is wonderful and the Honey Harvest is full of other nice neighbors and friends. Great food, great time. Even better, Fourscore is OK with you making your kid work in your stead.
Of course, you need to take my recommendation with a grain of salt. I could just be a judas goat luring you into a trap.
Would you say it’s a honey trap?
Or you could line up some access to some prime pheasant land and we could come down there for a meetup/shoot.
Have gun, will travel?
Also a good excuse to play Dick Cheney with other Glibs (narrows gaze at Tundra and his good looks).
I don’t hunt. So I can’t help out there.
You don’t have to shoot anything if you don’t want. All you have to do is a) be nice to a bunch of farmers and get their permission to hunt on their land and b) be in good enough shape to walk all over those lands (especially heavy cover) to flush birds (and also retrieve any we shoot).
Just a few things. Surely that isn’t too much of an ask?
My buddy owns a bunch of land down by Pipestone. I’ll ask him.
That would actually be fun as hell.
We typically have quail in our back yard. Of course, there’s a golf course behind us, so errant shots might hit a golfer or two. Which in my mind is a feature, not a bug.
Kentucky Man
A small plane that crashed in Kentucky, killing both men inside of it, might have been stolen by the victims who were not licensed pilots, police said Thursday.
That’s some good flying Lou.
What? They had the high score in After Burner for like two weeks back in the day man!
For comparison. The Wright’s first flight was 852 feet or 284 yards. They weren’t licensed pilots either.
There can be only reaction to this post…
Magical thinking, explained
https://www.manhattan-institute.org/green-energy-revolution-near-impossible
The greenies aren’t opposed to nukes, they just like their nukes to be metaphorical and detonated on the global economy.
Relevant
There was a really good interview on The Tom Woods Show with Patrick Moore. It was pretty clear from the conversation that any attempt to go “carbon free” that didn’t center on nuclear is pretty much a joke.
None of the commies have any intention whatsoever of doing any of the green energy shit they are saying. Oh, they will implement the taxes through the roof and put up a windmill or two but the real purpose is to destroy the economy a la venezuela.
Speaking of windmills… Animal Farm may have been both prescient and historical with its windmill subplot.
That’s a great article.
I’m all for alternative energy sources as part of a coordinated energy strategy, but it’s just nuts to think that if we throw enough money at solar or wind or what-have-you we’ll just magically wind up with a 1 for 1 replacement for hydrocarbons. It’s silly and counterproductive. You’re much better off spending that effort improving efficiency, reducing pollution (which itself is reduced through increased efficiency) and, sorry hippies, finding more sources of hydrocarbons and better ways to obtain and refine them.
Or nuclear, but you know, radiation is evil. Look what it does to Superman.
Counterpoint. Radiation is awesome. Look what it did to Spider-Man.
It’s problematic. Look at what it did to Bruce Banner.
It’s most excellent, look what it did to Chevy Chase
Counter-counterpoint. Look what it did to Dr. Griffin.
Counter-counter-counter point, the Toxic Avenger.
And as for Banner? It made him an immortal, super strong, genius (assuming Professor Hulk). Otherwise, two of the three aren’t bad.
Of course we are overlooking the worst case scenario (especially if you’re Japanese) Godzilla.
TL;DR but
Good point. I wonder what excuse they will pivot to next.
Excellent article. Thanks, Yusef!
I’ve offered to meet up with his holiness when he makes his trek to fish in eastern Wisconsin, but never got a papal communicae.
Shouldn’t that be an encyclical? And I’m not sure how good Pope’s Latin is…
Ruh roh!
https://twitchy.com/samj-3930/2019/04/25/awkward-joe-bidens-biggest-pushback-already-coming-from-his-own-party-and-omg-2020-is-gonna-be-lit/
DNC is gonna have to work overtime to rig it in Uncle Joe’s favor.
Well the Rooossiiiaannnss won’t find out about it, because the DNC changed all the passwords from “Password” to “p455w0rd”. Better luck next time, Putin!
Dog bites man.
https://www.hotnewhiphop.com/coachella-2019-a-huge-spike-in-herpes-reported-on-festival-grounds-news.78249.html
Rich socialite assholes with herpes and bad music. What’s not to love?
Yuk. With herpes on the ground, can you imagine how much herpes are on the people?
I’d say we should do a DMV Glibs meet-up but I’m an astonishingly lazy and road-phobic person, so unless it’s at a bar within, say, fifteen minutes of my house, I probably won’t be there.
Seriously, though, I tried to meet up with some folks in DC from TOS a few years back but between having a baby in the house and being a one-car household, it was a bridge too far to get into DC on a Friday night.
Do you mean a meeting at the DMV or did you mean DMZ?
He means the Delmarva peninsula, so the freaks on the Eastern Shore.
Meetup is in Ocean City.
Ted, you and Uncivil really need to date.
I’ll be glad to try to make any Central VA, Cville, Tidewater meeting….but I only go to NoVa at gunpoint.
I’ll pick up Chip along the way.
*grabs Mossberg*
Sigh … Dad, I’m going to have to revoke your driving privileges! 🙂
Now even my own kids disown me….
I miss my Minnesoda Glibs!
We leave an empty chair at every gathering for you!
Wait a minute ! I only got a chair ’cause Hayeksplosives couldn’t make it?
My gf asked me why I am the way I am. I showed her the collected works of FourScore on this and other sites. She just started weeping softly and saying “I never knew. All is forgiven.”
It’s the ultimate “get out of jail free” card. 😉
Love it Fourscore! Super jealous you all have hats. *kicks pebble*
Sweet, Fourscore! Makes me wish I was still a Minnesota Glib. Oh, and as always… LAST!