Tuesday, August 4, 2009

At Least I Didn't Bust My Sack During the Game

There are a couple of things particular to the Cincinnati area that cause people to look at you funny when you say the words.

One of them is a "three-way:, which is not a sexual liaison with an extra person, it's just spaghetti topped with chili and cheese.

The other is "corn hole", which is not where you apply the corn cob in the outhouse (we use a Sears catalog) and has no unnatural sexual connotation, it is just a bean bag toss game.

When either of these phrases comes up in conversation among the locals, it causes tourists to titter like adolescent boys. But let's all try to be mature for now and get through the rest of this story.

This past Saturday my neighbor had a birthday party which included a corn hole tournament on the front lawn. The bean bags are tossed underhand and a right-hander pushes off with the right leg, flexing the foot and calf..

So, because I am old and out of shape, my right calf ended up a little sore after the tournament. Since this was beer-in-hand corn hole and we played for about 4 hours, I didn't really notice right away. Sunday and Monday, though, my calf started to really tighten up if I sat for more than 4 minutes or so.

That meant that on Monday, every time I left of my office, I was hobbling like Dr. House. It caused people to inquire what was wrong with me. Naturally, I told them I had spilled a hot Skyline meal on my leg and burned myself.

Why did I say that? Because, even at my advanced maturity level, I would rather say I had an injury from a three-way than say that I was walking funny because of a marathon corn hole session.


Susan said...

Would you like some nice bath salts to soak in? :-)

Waltsense.com said...

love the corn hole. I've heard it a few times while tailgating at Eagles game but never knew it was legit. Philly area bars are getting hip to Corn Hole...but its just called the Bean Bag game or Soft-toss for now.

AT Eagles game it seems like everyone has one. I dominate the game.

Bowman said...

Haha. Nice story.

On a sort of related note, I generally hate it when something serious happens, but you're afraid to tell people because you'd need to divulge some awkward detail like, "corn hole."


"Dude, my eye is killing me?"


"Ah, don't worry about it."

"No really, what happened?"

"Oh alright. A Philip K. Dick book fell in it."


"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Philip K. Dick. Funny name."

"Yeah! Anyways, I'm going to go back to picking my nose and being a stereotypical douche bag."

JohnnyB said...

Walt - okay, you dominate in Philly, but you'd be creamed in Cincinnati. We can't field a football team, but our tailgating corn holers are ... never mind.

Bowman, I love a good Philip K. Dick joke!