The Daily Riff.
Humor, Reviews, Sports Picks, and whatever else invades my mind.
GPS refuses to recognize Flavortown, despite its restaurants, airport outposts and recent annexation of the Circle K roller grill. After another emotional rerouting landed yesterday’s picks at 2-2, today’s journey heads through Cleveland, Washington, Tampa Bay and Boston College.
A neighborhood bar becomes 49ers territory, complete with intellectual football fans, Too Short, excessive gold chains and one deeply unwell speaker. Somehow, it also brings back memories of Flint’s Barbecue and a sauce capable of removing paint.
Publishing my football picks could give my pick’em opponents valuable information. Fortunately, the security system is flawless: none of them knows this blog exists. Today’s classified documents include four picks and one entirely unbiased Patriots selection.
A routine Airbnb shoot took an unexpected turn when I knocked on a backyard shed and accidentally used mime to propose what may have looked like an unauthorized blue-underwear photo session. Fortunately, I knocked first. Plus, yesterday’s 2-2 autopsy and four new picks.
Time is an artificial construct—until an escape room starts counting down, the clues arrive six minutes late, the dry-erase pen refuses to participate, and somebody expects you to know that Batman’s mask is technically a cowl. A pickle beer may also have been involved. Plus, yesterday’s 3-1 autopsy and four new picks.
Dinosaurs had it first. Then came cowboys. Eventually somebody discovered zoning, luxury condos, premium rock experiences and three pricing tiers. Meanwhile, I accidentally bet the wrong side of our football handicap and somehow went 3-0.
I went looking for dinner in Kanab and somehow found a cowboy vegan restaurant serving pizza, live music, and a version of Jolene that sounded like Dolly invited Cake onstage. Somehow, all of this leads to today’s football picks.
A small photography mistake has somehow sentenced me to a 310-mile return trip to Page, Arizona. What was a road trip on Tuesday is officially a commute today. I don’t live in Page. I apparently have visitation rights.
A week after seeing Coyote vs. Acme, I found Wile E. Coyote sitting inside an ACME cannon at a museum in southern Utah. Meanwhile, the movie Warner Bros. once tried to bury has already made more than $22 million worldwide. Apparently this damn coyote can survive gravity, explosives, accountants and now museum rotation schedules with hot rods.