Behind Enemy Lines

So the HoG is actually uniting this weekend, for the first time in the illustrious history of the blog. The occasion? The nuptuals of The Blizzard, who's enjoying his last hours as a free man. Cecil and I, who tied the knot years ago (but not to each other, that's gross dude) are in KC for the festivities and to spread the Gospel of Shanahan.

Over the years I've made many jokes about the Kansas City demographic, in terms of education, weight, number of teef and other unsavory qualities. I do have to say that in the dozen or so hours I've been on the ground I've only seen eleven morbidly obese women and a few that I would actually consider mildly attractive. I've been drinking the entire time, but still.

Does this mean I declare a truce with Chef Nation? Not hardly. More dispatches from the Hell that is Missouri to come...