Nepotism vs. Trust Funds

In my experience, Sundays are best spent napping, doing laundry, catching up on DVR, and feeling generally morose about returning to a Monday morning cubicle existence. If I'm feeling particularly motivated, I might go running or pick-up some groceries (to be tossed out a week later when I replace them with duplicates and curse myself for never cooking). That's more or less the extent of my Sabbath activity. (A note to my Muslim and Jewish brethren, I'm using the term Sabbath in the traditional Christian sense here. No offense.)

Like most days best spent catching up on life, Brits instead approach Sunday as one final opportunity to get rowdy and toss back a few pints before the week starts. This activity is typically centered around watching football or rugby, but this weekend it was all about "The Boat Race". And it was awesome.

The Boat Race is a gazillion year old tradition featuring gazillion year old Oxford and Cambridge Universities. The schools' crew teams compete each spring in a perilous 4 1/2 mile journey along the River Thames, and the winning team gets to take home the losing team's girlfriends. Or something. As a spectator, you spend most of the day "socializing" along the river banks, traveling from bar to bar in anticipation of the big event. Inevitably, by the time said big event starts, no one is in any shape to care about a slow ass rowing race between two popped collar universities.

I, however, rose above all of this debauchery to snap a photo at what I believe was the 1 mile mark of the race. If you squint really hard, you may even see the two boats duking it out on the right side of the pic. I also did some research after the race to bring you this year's critical stats. Because you deserve to know. Oxford won the race by about 5 lengths, clocking a time of 18 minutes and 26 seconds. Interestingly, the Oxford team was lead by a trio of Americans (gasp!). More interestingly (?), I believe I was biting into a two cheeseburger meal (large sized) right around the time of the Oxford finish. My stomach is still recovering.