Let me start off by saying: I just came back from the doctor’s and apparently I have a, “virus that is going around.” I blame most (but not all) of this post on the fact I am now borderline delirious.
Anyway, I just want to say thank you to everyone who voted for me for #TFCdreamjob. I have said this to a few people now, but it remains completely true: I am more flattered and thankful for the votes from people who know me and from people that I respect, than if I were winning by a million. Thank you, everyone, you’re wicked.
However, I won’t refuse more votes if you so choose to by the midnight deadline:
The second part of this post (and where the delirium sets in) is on to the bigger issue: guys, I (sorta, kinda) found my shorts for Wednesday!
And by “shorts” I mean, “Frankenstein’s monster of shorts.” Behold!:
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Uh. I just realized now that I am wearing a TFC shirt as well.
That’s right. Having scoured the city for shorts (no go), I bought a pair of Adidas ones that match the kit (Adidas store at Yonge and Dundas, if you’re interested in your own). Then, having scoured the city for a TFC patch (no go), I printed a logo out myself, on regular paper, and quite literally scotched taped it to the leg of the shorts.
Bring. Wednesday. On.
See hopefully a lot of you then. I’ll be there with the decent and likable Jerrad Peters (or, “Petes” as he likes to be called), the NDP’er Nikolas Spohr (search my blog for more info), and the one person who swears at Antonio Di Natale as much as I do, my big brother Erik (he just goes by Erik).
Hopp,
scm.
Post script: I now have less than a week to figure out how to win Chad Barrett over. I’m open to suggestions.
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