Process of Illumination

This afternoon we departed from Madison. Sold as a seven hour drive, Chicago traffic made it ten even hours. We made a slight pit stop at The Cheese place, a small box-shaped building colored like a holstein heifer, to purchase a pound and a half of the best sliced brick I've ever tasted. It was delicious.

At a grocery store stocking supplies, Richter picked up what he thought was a Gatorade Ice bottle. When he went to drink it in the car's darkness later, he found out he picked up an already open bottle that someone had refilled with water and replaced on the shelf. He stressed for the next several hours that he might have drank a gulp of water someone had drugged, pissed in, or infected with a deadly disease. So far he's exhibiting no symptoms, but I've got him under close watch.

After a frenzied half hour of wheeling and dealing on the phone, I was able to find a ride for Anthony David Adams to natties, whom we'd inadvertenly left behind. Part of the process was moving Tyson Park to Parker and Deuce's vehicle in Chicago, and we met up with the three stooges at our hotel. The seven of us now are resting for a full day of ultimate and debauchery starting tomorrow at 8:30.

Oh, and never eat breakfast at a Country Kitchen. Just don't.