The Eagle Has Landed

Bears 30, Eagles 24

Oh, lord. Guys, the guy with the eagle is back. Mr. Pheebles. I think he’s been on the patio all night. I can see him peering into the sliding glass window, rapping, gently rapping at our chamber door. He needs clothes (other than the green undies). Making matters worse, I already gave up his seat at the bar to the Native American guy, who really didn’t like the newspapers with eagle droppings on it. Chomps is sleeping (but growling anyway) on the orange couch; the Dolt is, as far as I can tell, in a coma in the barcalounger; and the second couch I found on the street yesterday (the blue and gold one with the Kurt Warner poster shoved into the cushions) is still in the ‘Little Wretch’ (the Datsun pickup)...and it rained all night. Also, from my perch here on the basement stairs, I can see somebody has dumped a Raider Helmet phone, a Raider plaque, Raider shot glasses and a Raiders hard hat into the BBQ. They look half melted. I’m going back upstairs.