on the plus side, at least I get to use my "open apology to chicken wings everywhere" tag again

[gyzym]

Burro and my father on the topic of going down to the Q and watching March Madness basketball live and in person for twelve solid hours:

My Father: Too much basketball. Tooooo muchhhhh basketballllll.
Burro: All of my senses are tingling with basketball.
My Father: Touch, sight, taste--
Burro: Smell. I can smell the basketball.
My Father: All the other senses.
Me: You named them all except for hearing, guys.
Burro: Look, I have sixth and seventh senses I don't even know about, okay, and all of them are overwhelmed by basketball. My basketball sense had too much basketball.
My Father: I feel like I'm never going to say anything but basketball ever again.
Me: You seriously felt it necessary to spend your drive home telling me this? Right now? We're having breakfast together in like eight hours.
Burro: That is less time than we spent with the basketball. That's four hours less. Than basketball time.
Me: I told you guys it was crazy to spend the whole day down there.
My Father: Nobody knows the trouble we've seen.
Burro: Nobody knows the chicken wings we've eaten.
My Father: He meant our sorrow. Our chicken wing sorrow. Even the chicken wings tasted like basketball, oh god.
Burro: Hey, turn the radio up, I want to check the score on the Georgetown game.

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