Sometimes I cook at one of my friends’ houses for a group of people. I live in a little townhouse that’s not so good for entertaining. I pick up the groceries and cook, they provide beer and additional kitchen labor and pay me for the groceries. Since I genuinely like cooking for people, it’s a fine arrangement.

Yesterday morning, I woke up, and saw a text from my friend at 1:49 AM asking if I would cook for the Final Four. Earlier in the week, I had told this friend I’d be free this weekend since my wife was visiting her family, and I would be happy to reprogram his Harmony remote for some new stuff he added to his home theater setup.

Apparently, he and the guy whose house I ended up cooking at were up late drinking and basically said, “screw programming the Harmony remote, what about making his magical chicken for the Final Four?”

So, I agreed, but still had other stuff I was planning to do yesterday, but I found the time to buy groceries, marinate my chicken, get my workout, make the mac ‘n cheese, bring it and the rest of the ingredients over to my friend’s, and oh yeah I made scratch guacamole when I arrived, with super awesome chips that this random Mexican restaurant in the town of Delavan, WI makes and sells at certain area grocery stores.


We forgot to take a picture of the guacamole before it was entirely decimated.

I successfully made it through the day before this meal eating nothing more than a couple protein bars and a banana, which was good, because even with eating a bunch of guac, 4 pieces of chicken, multiple helpings of potato wedges, brussels sprouts and mac ‘n cheese, and several beers, I weighed myself this morning and I was actually a pound less than yesterday.


Also it made up for the fact that North Carolina won, because all college basketball teams from the state of North Carolina are to be rooted against, especially certain private schools with Cabbage Patch Kid looking motherfuckers who trip people.