DENVER NOTES:
- There was a workout this morning. It was dark. It was cold. Courie wasn’t there.
- Rishabh composed his thoughts and theories on what , pray tell, might’ve happened to dear Courie.
Today, the usually chirpy 5:30 crew missed a regular. The blatant absence of her presence was voiced by some, but felt by all. Her penchant for shenanigans, uplifting attitude, charismatic smile, and readiness to get #lit could have brightened an ominous and dark October morning.
In her usual spirited fashion, she verballed for the spooky Friday the 13th workout.
While I couldn’t locate “verbizzle” within the 2016 edition of the Merriam-Webster dictionary, I hypothesize it to be InstaFaceTweetGram vernacular for “verbal.” But alas, this morning at the crack of dawn and my aging back, she was nowhere to be found. Her “verbizzle” was not “fo’shizzle” (I’ll spare everyone the etymology of this one).
WHERE COULD COURTNEY LEE HENNING HAVE BEEN LAST NIGHT TO BREAK A PROMISE TO THE WONDERFUL PEOPLE OF NP5280?!
You see, I have some extremely plausible theories on her nonappearance:
#1: Our venerated Courie was noticed by Coach Calipari. Her work hard, play hard attitude resonated with the most decorated Coach that Drake has ever rapped about. Coach C sheepishly asked our dear friend to join the Kentucky Wildcats as a walk-on freshmen. While she has numerous commitments in Denver, out of pure respect and genuine kindness she decided to answer her calling and replace De’Aaron Fox:
Committed to beating Duke, Courie decided to spend the evening playing football on the basketball court. You see – you can’t score if you’re getting tackled by a Minnesotan. It is only a matter of time before Courie is the Dikembe Motombu of our generation.
Her general fatigue from practicing the LeBron dance step attributed to her broken verbal.
#2: Our cherished Courie found herself playing nurse. You see, after volunteering to attend a highschool prom so everyone would have a date, she found herself caring for another fellow cult member, Savannah.
Entrapped in an impassioned dance battle on the dance floor with the homecoming King, Savannah decided to go “for the kill” and attempted a head-isolation move popularized by the Jabbawockeez. As freakish circumstances would have it, her head swiveled around her body and cemented itself in the peculiar pose captured above (to live in perpetuity on the interwebs). Courie’s motherly instincts jumped to life as she immediately came forth with her bosom and armpit to support her dear friend’s head during this moment of peril. It is our belief that Courie is still tending to Savannah’s wounds. Not the head, that’s fine. But the ego can only recover so much losing to a 17-year old on the dance floor.
P.S. we miss you too Savannah.
#4: Our prized Courie found herself at a swanky party. But more importantly, someone who didn’t like cats found themselves next to Courie. The ensuing photo is Courie’s reaction to the phrase, “Oh… you like cats? I don’t fancy them much.”
How bromidic was this guy to utter I don’t like cats to a woman donning a rainbow colored kitten dress to the Four Season’s end of summer ball?! Perhaps he had nine lives.
Well, now he has eight.
#4: Our treasured Courie was actually preparing a festive fright! Deep into the archives of Hollywood horror she went as she sketched this chilling mask onto her face.
Upon completion of her bloodcurdling mask, she ventured into the dark night, and at the strike of midnight, pressed her face against the window of a home in Cherry Creek. Her first victim was six-year old Timmy, the son of a freelance hamster trainer and part-time harmonic-tuner residing in a $1.3M bungalow on Steele st.
Frightened to Hell and back, Timmy shit his pants. Momma called the police. With sirens surrounding her, Courie began to run.
Legend says Courie has been on the run ever since. So roughly one day. Someone bring her a GU.
#5: Our sweet Courie was invited to a wedding. While she knew neither the bride nor the groom, our constantly #lit friend could not turn away an excuse to dress up and get down. There were also rumors of an open bar.
Drinks were drunk, friends were made, wardrobe malfunctions were avoided; a fun night was had by all. The DJ even played Garth Brooks’ song [insert name of Garth Brooks song here ‘cus I don’t any] and Courie cried in elation.
As the night ticked away, Courie found herself in the photo booth with her new friends making memories that would soon be unrecallable over 500mg of Tylenol and Grape Pedialyte the next morning.
So Courie – I mustache you a question. Was it worth it? Gallivanting around on your adventures? Leaving your friends hanging this morning in the dark, bitter, cold – void of your warm smile?
While this is not a question I can answer, but I know what Jesus would’ve done.
My senseless and increasingly vapid theories aside, I’m certain you slept in this morning. In fact, I have proof. Here is a photo of you at 5:31AM this morning. Courtesy of June Carter.
Our dear friend Courie – if it isn’t evident yet, we missed you.
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