waving above his head, landed, and crumpled to the ground. He twisted his ankle so bad, we had to take him to the ER. I blame the ’80s for this. If it was now, we would’ve Yelped the shit out of “late night spots Portland.” We’d have slowly and calmly Wazed to a restaurant and had delicious pierogies (instead of almost eating at the International House of Pancakes).
