Sheeptown Drags Five Mile Long, Oh the Doo Dah Day

I hate to begin a story only for it to have an anticlimatic ending, but this photo makes it impossible to tell the story any better.  It just says it all.

If you missed it, I feel there is a likley chance it will happen again.

Tomorrow night:  One Handed Hot Dog Hill Climb World Time Trial Championships.

you too could be a champion.

So how do you tell a story like this?  Do you start at the end and work backwards or do you dole it out painfully in chronological order when the reader already knows the ending?

the bes swere wagered

 

the music was un-amp’ed

 

 

 

sheeptown’s guest list was varied

but it wasn’t man camp

 

 

the well did pump forth suds of foamy white stuff,

til in the end you wondered,would there be enough?

a ghost made the scene

vince was bummed we had no ice cream

my kid towed the logs straight so they wouldn’ts start bent

and big juan sacked up.  no pun was intent.

johann took the high road at every chance

for at this point the scorecard received many a glance

the keg stood watch and smelt every burnt tire

while the champion was annointed with the sweet blaze of fire.

congrats cloudy.  you dominated.

and i owe you 21 bucks.

until tomorrow night.  adios.