I got nothin'... really.

Seriously. I got nothin' right now.

Work is sucking the life out of me the way FatMarc sucks the HighLife out of an ice cold 7 ounce split.

That ain't the half of it. I think I may have gotten drunk at a team board meeting the other week and volunteered to be race director for our cross race.

It's possible that I wasn't drunk and didn't volunteer, but then I'm going to have a tough time explaining how "I BEE RASE DIRECTEURR BEOTCHES!" came to be written on my face backwards with a Sharpie. And where did I get that Italian-themed turkey tattooed in between my toes? Seriously. I was half-shaved the next morning before I figured out what I'd gotten myself into. Holy *$&%... did I consent to that?

I guess I did.

What does it mean for the Tacchino? Some changes. We had a bit of a shakeup coming anyhow due to other unrelated factors, and that was disappointing because I think we got our course in Leesburg well and truly dialed in last year; it was a well balanced, demanding course. But now the club has gone all over the top and handed the keys to me. Probably while I was passed out. That's the only thing that would explain how I woke up with my hand in a glass of lukewarm Magic Hat #9 the next day, and a suspiciously chilly feeling in my fundament.

What does this mean for you?

Well, you're going to have to wait and find out. I *think* we have some good stuff afoot and some good news in the works. The news will come out on the MABRA listserve, and the MORE board, and here. But as for what the news is... you all are going to have to sit tight for a bit. Just trust me that some good stuff is afoot.

Would I lie to you?

That's right.

No, I probably wouldn't.

Unless there was some personal gain to be had.

Meanwhile, I have to reprint a comment I made at Stevil's place, in response to his praising Fried Baloney Sandwiches. Seem that if you can get me ranting, I sometimes say funny stuff. My buddies from Upstate and maybe some of the Yinzers will enjoy this.

Wow, fried baloney sammiches. That's a heapin' helpin' of Buffalo cuisinological awesomeness on a couple slices of whitebread, right there - providing they come with mayo and American cheese.

Sadly, we don't hold Buffalo cuisine in the esteem it deserves. The Most Holy Wingage is now sullied by the likes of TGI Fridays, KFC and worse, with Buffalo Nuggets, Buffalo Chicken Breast Sandwiches, and Buffalo Chips. Meanwhile, soggy, greasy, badly spiced facsimiles of what Buffalo Wings are supposed to be - chicken wings that taste like the guy making them once knew a guy who ate at Sal's Birdland but who heard about proper wings one time - these meaty little greasy horrors are served throughout the land, wherever frat boys, softball players and office workers meet up for cheap eats and discount beers.

Yet the best part of Buffalo Cuisine, a real delicacy, remains unknown to those who are... um... unknowing of it. I'm speaking of Beef on Weck. It's a delicacy that can throw down with no-shit high quality regional food, like Carolina or KC Barbecue, Spiedies, Arizona pit beef, or Texas chili.

Dunk the Kimmelweck roll in the jus. Slice it, throw in the beef, drizzle on some more jus, add some fresh horseradish, maybe some brown mustard and onions, then eat, washing it down with a Labatts. It's as near to heaven as any workin' man would care to get.

Yet here we are, with Buffalo known almost exclusively for a badly prostituted version of Frank & Theresa's original wings, and also for baloney sammiches which are admittedly pretty nice, but generally about as pedestrian as a food can get without being comprised of actual worn shoe leather.

I weep for you people who have not sampled the Weck. I really do. That, or it's just the horseradish making me tear up.

Yeah, the Baywatch dude says you don't Hassle the Hoff, but my credo is you don't whack the Weck. I try live by that belief system. I really do.

And just in case you were wondering, Anacone's on Bailey had the best Weck in the world. I'm related to a guy who downed 8 of them in one night. There's history there. Or there was. It's gone now, I believe. But the Weck lives.