Not much to report today. Normally, I like to have something special for you following a holiday, but this go around I have nothing. Sorry. My bad. I suppose I could make something up, like that I came in 7th in the Indy 500 or baked an awesome pie, but that would be lame and this site is all about not being lame, so I won't. I don't like car racing or pie, anyway; both those things are highly overrated. If car racing or pie never existed I wouldn't even notice. Mostly because if they never existed I wouldn't know about them and hence wouldn't be able to miss them. But if by chance they never existed, yet still I knew that they could exist or, like, did exist at one point in time, I still wouldn't miss them. That's just how much I don't care about car racing or pie.

If you have a problem with that, whatever. I can live. We don't have to agree about everything. In fact, if we agreed on everything our relationship would be pretty boring. Not that it's like this incredibly exciting thing to begin with, but you get my point.

At any rate, I won't regale you with made-up stories about my weekend. We pretty much just hung out. A large chunk of yesterday was devoted to watching classic bowling on television. Now, there's an underrated sport if there ever was one. Don't scoff. And don't deny you were scoffing either. I sensed you scoff. I have special powers. Yes, I do. I can sense scoffing from miles away. So stop scoffing. Classic bowling rocks the fricking house. And so what if I'm the only one who thinks this? I don't care. That's why I forced The Chosen One and Lil' Buddy watch it with me yesterday. Did I care that they kept whining for me to unlock the door and let them go "play" in the "sun" with their "friends"? Nope, not at all. The only way you can appreciate classic bowling is to immerse yourself in it for hours on end. You can't just watch it here and there. That's for pussies. No, classic bowling is an enormous commitment that brings much distress to your life. However, in the end you are all the better for it. If only my sons would stop crying they'd realize this.

So that's it. Nothing sugar-coated here. We watched classic bowling all weekend long. End of story. We are beaten and broken, but we've learned a valuable lesson about perseverance and the allure of snug-fitting pants. I wouldn't trade that for the anything, especially car racing or pie.

This post is dedicated to endive.