8/31/2004
Saturday night found me at a little place called Harpo's in Chesterfield, MO. After serenading a buxom young lady to Elton John's "Your Song", I ran into Ram's rookie running back Steven Jackson. The conversation went alot like this:
Me: STEVEN!
Steven: (hi-five)
Me: Nice touchdown last night, man. I didnt think you were that fast to the outside.
Steven: Um, thanks...what's that supposed to mean anyway?
Me: I thought you just bowled over mothers.
Steven: (swigs he beer)
Me: Well, I'm a Packers fan...but I wish you the best of luck.
Steven: Um, thanks.
It's always fun to confuse giant football players. Steven Jackson was the size of an Escalade, just Fucking enormous. And he's a mother-fucking running back. Aren't they supposed to be the small ones? More later...
Me: STEVEN!
Steven: (hi-five)
Me: Nice touchdown last night, man. I didnt think you were that fast to the outside.
Steven: Um, thanks...what's that supposed to mean anyway?
Me: I thought you just bowled over mothers.
Steven: (swigs he beer)
Me: Well, I'm a Packers fan...but I wish you the best of luck.
Steven: Um, thanks.
It's always fun to confuse giant football players. Steven Jackson was the size of an Escalade, just Fucking enormous. And he's a mother-fucking running back. Aren't they supposed to be the small ones? More later...
