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Today my friend Mark wanted to play ping-pong, but as we descended the steps to my basement, we not only found the table folded up, but my brother and his fat little friend were playing in the middle of the place where the table would normally be.  Unable to play on the table in the basement, Mark and I headed outside for the street, each armed with a red paddle, and one ball between us.

After many unsuccessful hits across the street to each other and five too many close encounters with cars (it only happened twice, from the same car with some old lady in it), I accidentally stepped on the ball while trying to retrieve it.  So  I went inside, got the last ball, and we returned to our game.

We were finally getting as close to the hang of it as would be possible for anyone, taking into consideration the wind and our ping-pong experience.  Then we gave up, too exhausted to continue, right as we were at the height of our street pong careers.  It was fun while it lasted, however, and I’d do it again in a minute.  That’s my summer’s excitement at its fullest, there.



  1. dude, thats amaze. thats another terrific you blogged about so far thats amazing. nice job, you handsome, brilliant, generous person!!

  2. sam, i swear to barack obama that if you dont stop being amazingly handsome, i will get really jealous. Oh, too late.

  3. I wish I could have been there, that sounds like sooo much fun. I would have been laughing my pants off if I was with you guys.
    This comment was just grammar checked.

  4. I don’t know where you get your ideas but they’re amazing!

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