The End of a Four Month Hiatus

After several months of growing a fierce beard, dodging treadmills and eating noodles straight out of a microwave, it is finally time to end a daunting period that has seen me mellow in the shadows of MIA’s release (still only $11.50 on Amazon, btw).

For the time has arrived to blow a thick layer of dust from my typewriter and end a code of silence that pales in insignificance when compared to the notorious 2007 Hollywood Writers’ Strike. However, yes, I do like to convince myself that I heard someone shout on my train carriage yesterday, “Get Blogging, again!” – Well sir or mademoiselle, who am I to turn down your polite and possibly made up request. So here we are.

The baron months.

Right now, college football couldn’t feel more far away if it danced round a lamppost, slapped me in the chops and bolted into the hazy, dust-infused distance.

I miss it. I look at my couch with a tinge of despair. A longing regret consumes me. Why, September? Why do you have to be another five frickin’ months away? Even my relationship with the fridge has hit a catastrophic roadblock. Usually filled to the brim with cold beers and Mexican nibbles, it now stands there – embarrassed, unserviceable and full of uneaten food such as six-week old cucumbers, pale bacon and an unrecognisable expanding stack of inedible sorcery.

At least I still have my regularly scheduled ‘Pub Days’ to keep myself occupied. Ah yes, muttering into a jar of weak lager whilst recounting tales like an old-aged British war veteran. From my escapades around Aggieland to the fact I recently heard someone queuing in Subway and exclaim the delectable words, “I don’t usually go for a foot long, but today I’m going to dance with the devil.”

Sometimes in life there are quotes that just stick with you. People react to them in different ways. Some like to keep them as personal inspiration – others like to tattoo them across their forehead. Me? As much as I found the quote utterly compelling, I didn’t feel the need to get any ink involved.

Let’s look at it in isolation, shall we? He’s essentially buying a big sandwich. Yet he’s gone as far as putting it in the same ballpark as salsa dancing with a naughty demon.

What next for this chap? He’s started off with a foot long. Solid foundations have clearly been laid.

If I was a betting man, I’d at least put swimming with sharks or climbing Mount Everest on the nearby horizon. And if those excursions fall through at the last moment, I’m almost certain he will at least write 8008135 (boobies) on a calculator. The illustrious scamp.

Sorry to say, such stories and insights are going to have to carry us through until the football infested months return. In the meantime, buckle up and Gig ‘Em, baby!

Follow the author on Twitter: @GigEmNation

Marooned in Aggieland is out now! Book Availability:

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