This whole getting-up-super-early thing to go compete 2 hours away is for the birds. Last dream memory: Shaun TheBearded Hiller and I were driving to the event, stopping off at a little bitty town called Mcmoore, at the little cafe in the square called riverfront saloon. Inside was spacious, formal, and we were sharing mini oysters in a half shell that were floating on a little boat...out boat kept filling up with water, so we ended up sharing a table with some wealthy people. The oysters were over $100, and Shawn was going to leave a $50 tip for the nice waiter. The oysters turned to shrimp. Which makes sense because the whole dream was just plain weird.
Posted on: Sat, 17 Aug 2013 09:00:10 +0000