Redneck Slumlords Unite!

Ok, so it took me a full day to recover from this pentathlon weekend do a point where I could form nearly coherent thoughts, but I'm mostly there on this foggy Tuesday. After sending my beer-soaked race kit of black jeans and Sunshine t-shirt to the cleaners, a full day at the shop, and plenty of alternating doses of coffee and sleep, I'm back in the land of the living. The crucial element in my recovery however, was a tapering program put together by Loose Nuts Minister of Health, Dr. Sanjay Gupta. Through meticulous research and scientific methodizing, Dr. Gupta has determined that you just can't quit drinking cold-turkey after a three-day blinding bender like the Pentathlon, you have to taper. There are receptors in your brain that NEED beer, and if you don't give it to them they will revolt, and like K. Sekai after a week without bike polo, you might just lose your shit altogether, or fall into a light coma/powernap. And, as horrible as that first beer sounded, he was right. If anyone else out there needs some help designing their own custom-tailored tapering schedule, Dr. Gupta has graciously allowed himself to be kidnapped, blindfolded and tied to a chair on the porch at the redneck slum formerly known as Loose Nuts HQ, with only one arm left free to hand beers up from the cooler full of icy cold water provided expressly for the purpose. But, as a high-profile TV doctor and U.S. Surgeon General designate, we are unsure how long Dr. Gupta will be available for consultation, so please act quickly.

As for the pentathlon itself, I would do myself a great disservice if I tried to recreate in words the awesomeness of this past weekend. It just can't be done. You had to see it to believe it, and if you weren't there you just straight missed out. Maybe when we were still in the thick of it, when the smell of beer in waterbottles still lingered, the frogs still flashed from trees and the crack of the mallets still echoed, I could have created a depiction of the heroism, savagery and pure mayhem that might have done justice to the truth of the matter, but now, with the powers of hindsight clouded by residual effects of drink and delirium, I find my powers of description unequal to the task. You'll hear all the stories anyway from those who survived, and the memories of those who did not will live on long after the worms have devoured their flesh.