Monday, July 07, 2008

Grunt! Belch! Fart! 'Twas Man Night.

If there's one meal that I look forward to every year, it's the one that's served on Man Night. During that magical night, the ladies go off to dinner and a play, leaving the menfolk alone for a few hours. Uncle Chuck prepares a feast: 1.5" thick steaks, grilled potatoes, wedge salad, and grilled Texas toast. As usual, this year it was pure, manly, artery-clogging heaven.

Afterwards under the stars, we broke out cigars and pipes and rambled off our "best artists/albums/songs" in a variety of musical categories while classic rock radio filled the air.

It really doesn't get any better than that. Well, maybe if there was a hot chick on my lap. But then it wouldn't be Man Night, now would it?


jasdye said...

ahh, such are the conundrums of "Man Night."

Anonymous said...

don't get me wrong, women are great and everything, but I think I'd choose man night...that sounded straighter in my head.

Micah said...

jasdye - Yes, it is quite the conundrum, indeed.

dr. zeius - Hmmmm. My suspicions that you had a little bit too good of a time in Savannah are now confirmed.