After a dozen years of living part time in the Dirty T, right around Christmas, I quit my job — so I’m selling my condo and abandoning the third-world racquet club.
Jesus wanted our money — but this time it was for a good cause: better brewing from Larry, for fuck’s sake.
Believe it or not, I have a friend, who recently became “famous” for quitting. Well, at least “internet famous” (in Tucson only) when he quietly retired.
After years of physical therapy and anti-inflammatories, followed by months of injections and finally artho knee surgery, I finally found my “miracle”. Cortisone.
My Fucked-Up Tennis Team is now completely fucked-up in an entirely new way.