Posted on May 5th, 2009 - 3:35 pm - 4 comments
The Tom Waits Run is easily considered the hardest marathon on Earth. Hell, it’s the hardest marathon in the Galaxy. This is how it goes:
The first pub is Ruinen, and the last (the goal) this year is Fiasco (@ Bussterminalen).
The cover band Blow is going to play at Ivars Kro. (They sell the beer Aass, the best Norwegian beer ever.)
I’ve been trying to rally the usual gang of scumbags I drink with. But they’re out on holy missions, crusades and the Mysterious Mr. S mentioned something about a personal Jihad against a textbook.
That’s why I’m recruiting raindogs from every low-life corner in and out of town. Let’s all be losers on Saturday 9th!
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Michael:
Owh now that’s an evening I would never like to join. Or would I? What’s up with Mysterious Mr. S now days anyway? Say hello from me if you see him on the street begging for coffeemoney. But don’t give him any. Whatever you do, do not give him any. He had enough.
#1: May 7th, 2009 - 9:04 am
koew:
Last time he asked for money, he asked for three-fifty. I was damned if that wasn’t that gawd damn Loch Ness monster behind that shirt ‘n tie! I said “HEY! What do you think you’re doing, you gawd damn Loch Ness-monstah?!”. He scoffed, pushed me, then ran away…
Bought meself a shirt and tie that I’ll probably use on Saturday. I also got meself a 1litre-bottle of Clontraf (Irish whiskey), for the afterparty. If I make it home while being conscious.
#2: May 7th, 2009 - 1:15 pm
Tom Laforce:
By ‘three-fifty’ you of course mean tree fiddy.
#3: May 7th, 2009 - 10:04 pm
koew:
Oh you gawd damn Loch Ness monstah! Get away from me and me wifey, I tell yae! Don’t make me get me hose!
#4: May 8th, 2009 - 11:42 am