Tapped

I've a dollar in my wallet with the National Championship coming up.
We're going with Oregon, a coffee mate, some happy hour folks and I.
Certainly not with legendary bottom dollar; no, I will swing otherwise.
Five cigarettes and a good time as I'm rather inebriated, you see.

Someone bought a Stella. Belgian. Called "the wife beater" elsewhere.
A hoot indeed! My "wife" kicked me in the shins, for nothing. Forget.
Funny to remember we were horsing around once, playfully.
When we went to the ER, I told her to say we were playing basketball.

Have forgotten what we were doing putting her in that pickle.
Merely in this context I recall how I smacked that atrocious person.
Gave her back of my hand, I did. She'd displayed she was in clutch.
Of Satan. Left first. Satan ever in "relationship" ongoing. In-laws!

Outlaw pair sought to destroy what they were incapable of. Grace.
I had to leave that person behind; "There is no God." she said.
Sin against the Holy Spirit can never be forgiven. No problem.
After leaving her, after she let Satan rule her life, she cried. So...

I gave her another chance. Big mistake. A vicious cycle ensued.
The Satanic pair advising, she presented all sorts of provocations.
And I caught her with a boy in her own possession. Spooked her.
Made me weep. She was so stupid. Nothing to do 'bout it.

Consequently, the Satanic pair went obliquely conventional.
Had finally "tied the knot" financing a trip to Europe. Creepy.
Scum of the earth, they were; and playing folks along the way.
So glad to be saved and way clear of those creeps. No interest.

Right now, all that matters is holding together through the game.
Don't follow college football, though I've seen the Ducks -
know I took in a little of the ASU match; Wildcats all a blur.
As if any of it mattered! Love to say, "We had a rugby club."

Those rugby fellows have no front teeth too. Pucks! S
Something outside of his opus magnus tripos plays it well.
Once brought a wookie person to see O Lucky Man!
She didn't "get it" and broke down. I hugged her. Grace.

What does she do in return but sport me to this.
Afterward, she wanted me to get her a steak. I did.
She couldn't make up her mind as to whether, as I recall,
she was anemic or hypoglycemic. Played hypochondriosis.

She'd already seen the Federal crime indicated. A set up.
She wished to hurt my feelings upon several levels.
I merely went ballistic to see the NYPD trumped by FBI.
Knew all about it and loved every second of mine conniption.

She attempted some other psychological assaults.
I was having a great time and they were a distraction.
Sometimes I think about her; slept with infected people.
Figure she's long dead. Never looked back after circa 1976.

So fun to remember the Animal House shoot in Eugene.
And the combo. Ron Steen. Sonny King. Otis Day.
Former two played the Kingston and Chuck's in Portland.
Chuck Steakhouse is where Omar turned up. Yeah, go Ducks.