Fail

We are a civilized peoples here in New London. Which is why on the occasional* weekend, after our marathon workouts* and saving of civilizations*, we do the right thing and pop a bottle of bubbly to celebrate our achievements and accompany our further chores.

*(all true)

Yesterday was no different.

(also true)

In the old days we would try to shoot the cork over the Bittersweet Fence at Champagne Park.

We are a much more refined people now. Now-a-days we try to shoot that cork right into the birdie bath.

That has been accomplished exactly once. By moi. But that is a story for a different day.

Yesterday was a day like almost every other day we try to nail it.

We get the bottle ready . . . 

. . . we get serious . . . 

. . . and please ignore the hose which looks like an espn diagram of the cork's trajectory . . . 

. . . because look at that airborne cork!

. . . can you see it?!

. . . And . . . can you see it land exactly nowhere?!

Yes, I was dejected, too. 

Fail.

But at least I got to do the Walk of Shame.