…SHIT!!!!
So you know that race I ran a few weeks ago where I was trying to run 100 miles? Yeah…they miscalculated the exchange and we ran 83.4 miles instead. That means I damaged my body for little more than a “guess what I did” story that if I did tell people, they would certainly believe I am an idiot for such an endeavour. No 100 miles to log for future registered races or medals to hang in the office. Nope, just a beaten body and sparse memory of the journey itself. But…
I’M OKAY!!!
There will be other races and other chances. Thanks for all the well-wishes. Love you all!
The next beer vlog will be up in a couple of days. Get prepped for some awesome possums!
Well, this is turning into a pretty lame story so I will get to the part that made me want to write this in the first place and take pictures of tape.
For the sake of anonymity, just in case this is a reader’s Uncle Lou, I put an LOL cat over his face. Man, this guy could not figure how to pay with the credit card machine. If President James K. Polk was flung from his time to present day and told to pay for this detergent, I am pretty sure he could have figured it out before this guy did. It was tough to watch and that is when my patients waned and got the best of me. On his tenth attempt to not press the giant red ‘CANCEL TRANSACTION’ button, I blurted “jumpin’ Jesus on skates”. He looked at me with a defeated face and said, “I’m sorry”.
Well, I managed to cross the 100 mile per week running goal and I think this will be maintained for the foreseeable future. I am really surprised how good I feel, though. There is little soreness, the feet are fine, no knee and back issues and the runs are at a quick pace. The military side of me believes I am not pushing myself hard enough because without pain there is no gain but the 32 year old side of me is knocking on wood while doing the Bartakomous’s, “dance of joy”. This may culminate catastrophically but really, do I do it any other way?
Holy shit this is a great movie! Sure the more sophisticated summer movie connoisseur would pick Caddy Shack if given the choice of Bill Murray movies but there is something about camp that gets me in the summer mood. It kind of sucks that I am too old even to be a counselor but it brings back so many great memories. Memories like late night practical jokes on other cabins, the nervous tension of being forced to spend a week bunking with kids you don’t know, the sadness of the last campfire, and how we all thought the counselors were so cool and the subject of camp rumors and gossip. I still remember thinking that a blow job was something done to an ear. I want that innocence back.
Rumor has it this kid was in mid-stream when this picture was taken. That’s a lie, but it kind of looks that way, huh? Anyway, I grew up in a neighborhood that didn’t have a community pool so we were forced to jump through the sprinklers or breakout what my Dad called the “yard killer”; the kiddie pool. I remember these plastic pools from K-Mart to be as much fun as they look above. Even for an only child who had an imagination that could keep him entertained for an eternity during Catholic mass, this pool, with floating pine needles and drowned yellow jackets, really sucked. Especially when you have a friend over and the suck is multiplied by two. Ugh! I can still smell the hose water and see the pool toys that were just fancy McDonald Happy Meal boxes in the shape of boats.
The next step up is being invited to the friend’s neighborhood pool. That’s an exciting summer day.
Wow…sharks and minos, underwater tea parties, chicken, handstands, cannonballs, jackknives, and of course my famous 1/3 flip off the diving board. That’s always good for a laugh. I also remember the packed lunch and how Hi-C, peanut butter sandwiches, Doritos and Sunkist Fun Fruits never tasted so good. I tried it the other day and it just isn’t the same without chlorine and uncontrollable shivering.
First off, it’s a place I generally drink beer and read. Those are the two things I didn’t do when I was a kid. Also I rarely go into the water because it is usually occupied by 12 year olds and that age group really pisses me off in recreational environments. It’s just a great time to catch up with a good book, drink a dozen beers and sweat them out while working on a one-sided tan because I hate laying on my stomach. I can never get comfortable. Are you suppose to stick your face between the chair straps?
Anything that comes in one of these is great. If it is served by this guy it will be a minor explosion of amazing.
Pasta salad is the must at all outdoor activities that includes food. If I am present at a picnic and the is no pasta salad expect me to remove the picnic blanket and use it as a cape as I run around and step on the rest of the food. Expect it.
Couple of dogs and a beer. It’s hard to imagine lips, assholes and yeast to be a summer must but it is. Especially at a weekday 1pm Cubbies game when you skip work to go. “Heyyy batta batta, sawingg batta!! He can’t hit he Can’t hit he can’t hit…”
Quarter sliced watermelon that is wrapped in Reynold’s Wrap. Don’t know why but this is summer to me. But every time I eat watermelon I get a dull pain in my tongue from a watermelon eating race gone bad back in 1985. I remember I bit my tongue and lost the race. As I sat there in failure, holding ice wrapped in a paper towel on my tongue, I was awarded a “nice try” gift. It was bubbles. Insult!
Do I really need to expand on this one? It’s part of the reason the Earth tilts on it’s axis, you know. But remember, if you see Megadeth this summer, leave the laser pointer at home. See below. I’m pretty sure the guy in the audience is no longer with us.
Casserole of Disaster 