I Met My Nemesis...

A warm bright day: July the second
Would be one of fun and revelling, I reckoned
When, to my utmost incredulity
The emotional skies had clouded over me.

That fateful place, called Golden Star
A burger joint (for a west-ender, far!)
All my previous worries, I did delete
Since Andy and Dave, was I there to meet

Then we through the doors and were met with a smile
But this, my friends, was meant to beguile
(A word of caution for imminent dangers:
Beware the fleeting grins of strangers!)

And then, the brute, he started to laugh!
I, frantic, looked round, but 'twas no gaff,
Then into my eyes he stared, this foe
And told me his name, none other than Joe

But soft! 'twas not from the name did I cringe
But the way that he told it -- my heartstrings did singe
From thenceforth I knew, I'd suffered a blow:
"My name is Joe, if you didn't know."

The man -- he rhymed! And he did it well
And with each subsequent verse, my ego did swell
For here was a man who could match (nay, surpass!) my wits
And then did I realize I'd met my nemesis!

But unto my most disappointed pride
Good Joe, I could neither ridicule nor deride
For, why, he was friendly, and as nice as could be
And of rhyming and joking a few things could teach me

Example number one, the good old bloke
Decided to tell my friend Andy a joke
Asked why six feared seven, though he felt just fine
And Andy didn't know that seven-ate-nine!

The rhyming, not once did it falter or pause
So funny -- my laughter must have broken some laws!
Dave, Andy, and I (the trifecta, if you will)
Were chuckling so hard we soon felt quite ill

And so, my dear friends, I did meet my muse
And he put my tired funny bone out to use
(And though his garbage cans were sub-par)
My nemesis: the man that resides at Golden Star.

Saturday was a lot of fun. First time out-out in a while. The three of us also went to the driving range. We had to drive so far north to the golf course-driving range that I swear I passed a polar bear passed out on the side of Bathurst. Further north than 7. Further than 16. Further than Major Mac. Further than Elgin Mills. Further than something called Gamble Rd. Yeah. That far. And cows cows cows everywhere. But anyways, to make a long story short (I apologize for this looooong blog but I got carried away with the rhyme -- incidentally, that goes out to Tony, for his rhyme-request), the driving range was hilarious. Dave and I sucked like mad, though Andy wasn't nearly as bad as the two of us...and Dave has this Happy Gilmore, slapshot thing going on that he somehow uses the slam the ball all the way out to the 225 yd sign. Andy hit the ball collecting tractor. And I tried not hit the ground or be hit by the wild slapshot thing. Good times.

Anyways...that's a long enough post for one day...but I have to say: Joe was the coolest guy I've ever met. He made ordering a burger the funnest thing ever.