I’m going on a business trip to the City of Brotherly Love starting tomorrow and staying through the weekend.
What perfect timing. I’m heading into Philadelphia just in time for some little sporting event or other. Can’t quite put my finger on what it was they won, but it doesn’t really matter, because it’s Red Sox playoff time, baybeeeeee!
This would be great if my brother still lived there, but he just moved back to Florida. So, hopefully, I can dig up this guy and this gal and maybe this chick and her boy toy. Meanwhile, Mac has ducked me for a third time, so she can just go row a boat or something as far as I’m concerned. Hmph!
Well, if nothing else, I can sit in the hotel and watch the playoffs and revel in the Mets crash landing. Bitter about ’86? Not me!
Speaking of boobs, it’s time to go give money to the Boobie-Thon to help Susan G. Komen fight breast cancer. (I started to say something about being in the presence of the pair that started it all during this trip, but you can’t say things like that without sounding pervy. So, I didn’t. You’re welcome.)
I would think that your clients would want to impress you and take you to a playoff game while you’re there.
Or you could just come down to the river on Saturday and watch me sweat. That sounded weird.
It must be us. Mac totally hates us! Aw crap.
*sobs*