Stop peeking at the pics and just read.
After our muffin buffet at the hotel, we rode the subway to famous places, like fat Jared from the sandwich commercials. We checked out all the big edifices (edifi?), from the big gray pencil to gaunt grandpa in the armchair and what the rich white people were referring to as the Kenyan Embassy. On our walk to the Capitol building we passed more than a handful of middle-aged men living the dream playing flag football at the National Mall and chirping like the fattest bird just farted in the aviary. Just as I was about to show them up and intercept a weak spiral and go the distance, I realized that I suck at football, so I just ate a hot dog in the end zone. Sports.
"Now that’s what I call a Sack lunch. Nomnomnomnomnom."
Moments later, I saw another hot dog, but this time it was a show-off on a segway. I guess love makes us do crazy things, because this dude was riding in a pack of about ten two-wheeled mall-cop machines and still felt the need to stand out like femininity at a roller derby. But when you want to impress your girlfriend, shame has no bounds. He would hit the gas for a second and then slam on the brakes to skid and stir up the gravel (and the angst of young women everywhere). I guess he liked the gravel so much that he decided to eat it, because before you could say “hey girl dump that douchebag” he skidded sideways and tasted turf, but not before veering into his ladyfriend and knocking her off her own electric mistake. It was the slow motion scene from Free Willy, but she wasn’t so happy to be free, er, airborne. And then one-by-one went the others like someone hit a streaker at the Tour de France. These out of control R2-D2s just started swerving left and right, apparently wondering what the first guy found so damn tasty about that gravel. There was just a mess of bodies by the time we stopped laughing. We wanted to help, but we would’ve just looked like Harry and Lloyd after the hot pepper prank. So we kept on walking.
If you look above my head in the hot dog pic, that’s the pathway where it all went down. Which is an irrelevant caption for this picture.
An hour later, at the Vietnam memorial, another of Darwin’s exceptions took a spill out of nowhere. All we heard was “ohh OHHH OOOHHH!” and she was down. At first we just thought she was reenacting the war, but instead she had only lightly brushed her shoe up against the curb and bailed, and the next thing you knew all the girls were yelling “I’ll have what she’s having!” I thought, man what the hell is happening here? But quickly chalked it up to World Cup Fever.
Needless to say, we started to get excited every time we thought some random girl might go down. It was like a neverending prom party.
"How the shit do you get the entire Washington Monument in one frame?" Trick question, it’s on front camera so I can take a picture of my bulge.
Anyway, after the tour de Washington we had a craving for meat that wasn’t killed while riding a segway and decided to hit up a nearby eatery from the Diner’s Drive-ins and Dives show with that human blowfish guy. The place was called Tortilla Café, which according to the website was Mexican and Salvadoran, and Soonbeapoopan. The food was amazing and less than ten bucks a pop, and less than a buck a pop, so it was a great place to bring the family before the fight. Oh, Manny Pacquiao? Nah, a homeless man in gold velvet attacking a guy on the median over what appeared to be a discrepancy regarding an arab man named Mah-Fukah. Though he was not present. Suspiciously neither was Fahkeen Kahnt, despite shouts to the contrary.
Speaking of baseball bats, after the vagabond violence we hit up a Nationals game..or was it a cat convention? I can’t remember if I sat there for nine innings or nine lives, but luckily there was a lady and the lady was selling beer, and my best friend (that same lady) kept ‘em coming. I assured her I could return the favour later, if her kitty so desired..
Sleepy cat. Great whiskers. Does more than purr when scratched.
By the end of the ball game everybody was so exhausted from being sedentary that they stopped playing so the fans could leave.
We hopped back on the metro train like Banana Republic shoppers and headed back to the hotel for some rest. This time without the sugar high and creepy guy from the night prior. All-in-all a good day for tourism.
Some liquid harmonicas to rally the delta waves for a deep sleep.
See you next time for day three action. I think hiking was involved. I think clothes were not.