Plano Texas Was No Plane Ole Time

Jon actually lives in North Dallas. But I thought the play on words was better. He lives close enough to Plano so back off.

The days were packed with fun and the nights with more fun.

We ate too much. We drank too much. Too much. (Dave Mathews is a bagadouche.)

There were funny moments (see last post) and there were sad moments, namely leaving.

We fought over which era of Spartan basketball had more heart, argued over trivia at Bdubs with a creepy 40-something year old, tangled with a Mandril at the Dallas Zoo, defeated Wilbur and Travelocity and fought off an eye infection. We walked around downtown Dallas and hung out by the pool. Emily finally remembered who sang Laid (James) as we made several, several, several drunk dials. Rafko got the blunt of them. Why Rafko? I’m not sure.

Surprisingly we only had one shot, a Jager Bomb at Bdubs.

We ate a lot of fantastic Mexican food and had the best barbeque sauce known to man. The Blue Goose rules, Sonny Bryans is super-sweet and the Osage Golden Wheat at Two Rows was outstanding. I love food and beer.

It was a great time. Thanks Jon. Sorry I ruined your couch and floor.