I'm Climbing Up Those Walls Again

Before I talk about anything else, I'd like to brag about my countless victories in Medieval: Total War, one battle in particular was awesome (Carter and his brother would appreciate this).

Recently, I invaded Rome and executed the Pope, setting up my own puppet Papacy, but the old regime made an attempt to take it back from me. They had a huge army, roughly equal in size to mine, but I was one the defense, so I had mine on top of a hill. I was a little nervous, because his units were more advanced than mine. The Pope had taken the lead with his 20 royal knights.

Just to pass the time before they got close enough to attack, I had my catapult lob a boulder at the Pope's knights. Catapults aren't usually very good at hitting moving targets, but I was bored. They aimed and fired, and the boulder not only hit the royal knights, but it fucking killed the Pope and only the Pope with the one hit. The first shot of the war killed their commander and head of state. Man, it was awesome. The resulting battle was easy, for the enemies moral was severely damaged.

Anyway...

The other night I had a one night stand with a delicious meal known as a Donner Kebab. Around midnight that night I got really hungry (probably as a result of my running). It's probably the unhealthiest thing you could possibly eat. Basically here is what it involves:

A huge big cylinder of meat (lamb I think, it doesn't really matter) that just sits there, rotating aaaallll day until you come along and order a large Donner Kebab. They shave (yes, shave) the meat off, then cover it with lettuce, and several sauces of unknown origin. It's the closest thing to hunting down a lamb with your bare hands and eating the whole thing. It's awesome.

The weather over here has been unusually wet as of late. Rain comes and goes every few minutes recently, as I found out yesterday morning. It was drizzling, so I was debating whether or not to get ready to run, when my dad called down from the attic, "Matt! It's sunny now! You can go for a run." I put on my treads, set the stopwatch, and bolted out the door. I went down the road and onto the country track that takes me out of the city.

After a few minutes, I passed a parked car, and then saw its driver running along the track in my direction. He didn't seemed to be dressed for running, but he was really kicking up dirt as he bolted passed me. I wondered why he was in such a hurry. My curiosity turned to horror as I felt drops of rain. I was already at the half way point, so I picked up the pace.

The end of my run takes me straight down a busy Beverley street, and I hit it just as the rain drizzle grew to a torrent. I was soaked, and of course the place was packed with traffic. I must have provided a good laugh for a few dozen people as I ran top speed over the train tracks. As I flew past the Minster, a man looked at me and said something funny, all I could make out were the words "see-through" which were probably in reference to my wet white t-shirt. As I got to my house I had to dart passed an old lady, who I gave a good scare to. That's ok, because old people deserve to be scared.