LA! LA! LA! LA! LA!

I CAN'T HEEEEAR YOOOOU!!!

To quote a somewhat entertaining, yet generally overrated show:

I'm going Nomad.

Sort of...

This weekend, a rather large sporting event took place.  I was unable to bear witness to this event due to a prior engagement.  The answer is "Yes", this engagement did involve scores of naked women, loud rock music, and a little something we here at FSD like to call "Cocaine Mountain."

Now, rather than simply hear about this event via a series of text messages, still shots, and obnoxious post-analysis, I have chosen to catch this event once it re-airs, most likely On-Demand, or if necessary, by bootlegged copy.  The problem is that within this Information meets Technology meets Googlized society, it is very difficult to avoid breaking news.  And when your job is to write about sports, it is also rather irresponsible to willfully avoid such information.

Nevertheless, against this stacked deck, as well as against my better judgment, I will bob and weave my way within the Internet, avoiding all of the potential pitfalls that a given sports-related website may possess.  I will be slipping the jab against Mike Tirico and crew by enjoying tonight's awfully garbationary football game on mute.  And lastly, the dukes will be cocked, locked, loaded, aimed in the direction of any texts, comments, or telling references that might in someway compromise this high wire act.  So, you're all on notice.

Why am I doing this?  I'm not really sure other than to say that I love this shit and prefer to experience such affairs flesh-of-eye rather than word-of-mouth.  But we'll get back to that later.  For now, if y'all have anything to say to me, then store that shit on lay-away for another day.  I got walking to do, and I'm afraid I'll be running solo for the next 24 hours.