Today was the day we would have the most free time so me and the gang had to use it wisely. We decided to sleep as long as possible to have as much energy as we could, so we didn't really get up and moving until 12:30 or 1. You would be surprised how much motivation it takes to get up and put one's pants one in the morning.
We set off at around lunchtime to Raise some Cane. Did we go cow tipping? No. Did we cruising around, yelling "Whoevah seen da leprechaun say yeah!" to random people on the street? Nope. What did we do to unleash hell upon the unsuspecting populace of Mobile? We killed about 12 chickens at Raising Cane's Chicken Fingers.
Let me backtrack, I'm exaggerating a bit. We didn't actually kill the chickens. I don't want the blog to be swarming with PETA treehuggers. We simply ate their fingers.
So I'm sure there's a farm somewhere in Alabama with a bunch of fingerless chickens running around, maybe playing soccer or learning to use chicken prosthetics.
Three of us ordered the Caner, the most expensive value meal they had which consisted of 5 chicken fingers, a thick slice of Texas toast, an order of fries and some cole slaw. And a large drink.
In short, it was poultry-assisted gastrointestinal suicide, and I was loving every minute of it.
The other dude with us ordered a chicken sandwich, but no waffle fries.
Afterwards, we went to see the U.S.S Alabama. I'm not sure what USS stands for, but it's probably something like "Used for Short Sailors". My head was in a constant state of lowered to dodge doorways, light fixtures, overhead pipes, the helicopter tour, etc. I struggled even more than Alec Baldwin in The Hunt for Red October or Denzel Washington in Crimson Tide, which is really ironic.
To add injurious insult to insulting injury, halfway through our groups inspection of the ship's interior, I got separated from the group. I hunted through every corner of that ship, until I finally found them up in the crow's nest.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, we moved to the submarine. I have a newfound respect for the sailors of the Second World War. I can only hope they doubled as jockeys during peacetime.
The doorways doubled as portholes. I've seen doggy doors bigger than the portals I had to crawl through. I had never planned to join the U.S. armed forces. But know I'm damn sure I'll never join the Navy.
After the excursion, we chilled at the hotel for two hours then decided to go over to the Mitchell Center early to check out the end of the UALR-FAU game. After that will be the WKU-UNT game, which I won't cover, but will still join my compatriot ARob on the sideline for. So I will essentially be compensated for dicking around on my computer for a couple hours.
God I love my job.
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