Overkill.

Yesterday I was mildly retarded.

You see, I went to the gym with The Sidekick, as per usual, and for the warm up we ran about 1.5 miles. We then proceeded to kill ourselves doing our upper body set.

(As we were leaving the gym, I had a guy I work with ask me if I want to come back at lunch and do some more running. Since I now think I'm immortal - I said yes.)

I go to work, and it's a total clusterfuck - the order for my section was inadvertently doubled, and I had to work and stack it all in an organized manner. (Picture lifting 16 pounds from the floor to about 6 feet high - now picture doing it 250 times.) Needless to say, my arms and calves were sore from the lifting and such.

What's a guy to do to relax after that? Oh yeah - go to the gym for lunch, where I proceed to run just over 4 miles in 35 minutes. (Did I mention I was immortal now?) My calf started to cramp a bit near the end, but I'm tough and slugged it out.

Work was okay when I got back, just a lot of running around and restocking- nothing I can't handle. I'm already thinking about relaxing when I get home. I could hear my couch calling to me....

Nope.

After dinner I come up with the great idea of taking the kids to the park - where we proceed to play soccer and try to fly a kite. What do those to things have in common? Right - running. (Yay calves!)

So of course my calves ache today.

Luckily it's my day off from the gym.

I'll just do a little bit of yard work, and if the kids move faster than a brisk walk I'll tell em to slow down.

However Sunday I'm immortal again, so of course I'll be back at the gym. I think all this testosterone is affecting my brain.

But it's worth it - Oh God is it worth it.



Later.

Page Turner.

What does it say about me, that I look forward to the new issues of Men's Health like I used to look forward to new issues of Maxim?

(In a totally non-gay way of course.)

I find that Men's Health is tailored more towards guys my age, maybe a bit younger. Maxim is just focused on guys who want to get pussy. (Yes, I do still glance at Maxim - old habits are hard to break.)

The tips and routines in MH are things that I've actually used - different things to eat, exercises to try at the gym, and other stuff. It's a good read and I enjoy it.

Plus, I don't' feel like a scuzzball when I take it up to the register.

That's probably the biggest change of all.




Later.

Mountains & Molehills.

It's not that I hate laundry.

It's a pain- that's for sure, but it'll always be there no matter how much we try to ignore it. (Especially if you have kids - believe me.)

I'm trying to get a routine going - just throw a couple of loads in each day, fold and put away. It doesn't take that long, and it seems like less of a task.

My wife, however, prefers the pile-it-up-and-attack-it-all-in-one-day plan. That's okay I guess, if you want to waste a whole day. What if you get called away? Laundry is never ending - it'll pile up the moment you turn your back on it.

With the amount The Sidekick and I have been going to the Gym, my need for non-sweaty clothes has increased exponentially, and going with the old method just means I'm scrambling for clean gym shorts at 5:30 in the morning.

But I can't get my wife to see the benefits of trying out my way ( even for a bit) .

I'll keep fighting the good fight, and I know she'll come around. ( I might have to take the Bounce Sheets hostage, but eventually, she'll listen.)

Until then, I'll keep tackling it my way.

I'm off to scale the southern face of the whites & towels - I hope I can hit the summit before dawn.

Someone send a Sherpa.




Later.

Lounge Lizards & Lat Pulldowns.

The hardest part of my morning wasn't the Treadmill.

The hardest part of my morning wasn't doing Ab workouts on the mats..

The hardest part of my morning wasn't the fifteen sets of Leg exercises The Sidekick and I did.

The hardest part of my morning wasn't listening to the guy beside us grunt like a mule while he was doing Deadlifts.


The hardest part of my morning was listening to the same guy sing along to whatever Nickelback or Default song was playing on the Gym's satellite radio. Seriously, dude, I can take the grunts and all (it is a gym) but singing along? Really?

I hope this guy isn't going to be one of the morning regulars - if he is I'm going to have to look into some type of ear protection.

At my old gym I had the visual disturbance of Jeans Guy - this one has the audible distraction of the guy I'm now going to call The Crooner.

Can't a guy just work out in peace?





Later.

Bless You, uTorrent.

I just downloaded an entire album in less than nine minutes.

(Of course I own the psychical CD, and this is only a backup copy - fair use, right?) Wink wink, nudge nudge.

Talk about instant gratification.

If only life were as reliable as uTorrent - I would have had six-pack abs ages ago.



Later.

Great As A Cup Size...

Lousy for an age.

Thirty-Six.

Today is my Thirty-Sixth Birthday.

I'm officially closer to Forty than I am to Thirty. Sad, right? (Inside I feel 25, and always will, I guess.) The weird thing is that right now, at this age, I'm in better shape than I have been since my younger years. So technically, like a fine wine, I've improved with age.

I'm going to try and enjoy this one. I work today, which isn't bad, and dinner followed by Poker tonight will round out my evening nicely. (I haven't mastered The Sidekick's ability to turn a Birthday into a three-day weekend - I'm not sure how he does it, but I'll give it a shot next year.)

I'd like to say I'm wiser now, but you'd all know that that's a lie, so I won't even try. I'm something, that's for sure, but I don't know what.


Oh yeah, older - I forgot.




Later.

A Steaming Cup Of Tranquility.

I didn't go home for lunch today.

Instead I strolled next door, got a coffee (Venti Skinny No-Sugar Vanilla Latte)and a newspaper, stepped onto the patio area, and read my paper in the sun.

It's the most awesome thing ever.

(For those of you who think drinking coffee in this weather is crazy, you can kiss my ass - I'll drink coffee when I'm in the burning pits of hell.)

There is something inherently relaxing about coffee & the paper - a sense that all is right with the world. (Even though you are reading something that tells you everything is clearly not right at all.)

Whatever - it was the most relaxing part of my week I think.

I should schedule coffe-paper-sunlit patio-days more often.

It'll be good for me.




Later.

God Damn Kids.

Canadian Talent and Ingenuity at it's finest.

I've been a fan of Sam Roberts since I first stumbled across them. They have a unique sound, and one of the only times I've listened to French in song and liked it. (Listen to "No Sleep" if you don't know what I'm talking about.)

I really liked the follow-up album, Chemical City, but I don't think that people were ready for the more experimental sound that album had. With the new release, Love At The End Of The World, they get back to the sounds and energy of the first outing, and it's all good.

The Video for Them Kids is great - I've played The Sims (albeit briefly) and it was never as cool as this. (Was Canadian Rock Star even an available profession?) My Sims usually went swimming and died when I removed the ladder from the pool - either that or perished in a house fire while cooking dinner.)

Check out the video and the album - they're both great.



Later.

Female Problems

Work tonight was a joy. (Sarcastically speaking.)

Almost half the way through the evening, one of my cashiers starts crying uncontrollably in the coffee room. One of the other girls calls me , and I go to see what's wrong - she's doubled over, bawling and it's hard to understand her.

I'm expecting a medical emergency, something akin to a ruptured appendix or gunshot wound.


- She tells me she has cramps. Really, really, really bad cramps.


As a man, it's hard for me wrap my head around that. If it was a guy, I'd tell him to do another lap and walk it off - but obviously that won't work in this case.

What's the proper way to deal with that? I can't say I understand her pain as I've never ovulated before. The only thing I can do is say "Okay" and ask her what I can do.

I did the best I could for her, and had someone cover for her for the rest of the night. I called back later and her mom had taken her to the Doctor to get her checked out. It's not all good, but she's better now.

I still think jogging a lap and maybe icing it down was the way to go, but hey - I'm no Doctor.




Later.

Running With The Devil.

The Sidekick and I had our first day at the gym together.

Did some cardio, hit the weights for a while, and still made it to Timmy's for coffee after. (What? You've got to have some reward at the end, right?)

It's good to have someone there who understands a Kevin Smith punchline when they hear it.

He did well for a first timer. It is easy to forget how difficult it is to get something like this started, but amazing how fast your body can adapt. It'll be good for me as well - to have another person to keep me on track and focused on my goals. (There's no way in hell I'm going to let him be able to do more pull-ups than me.)

We're going to do cardio tomorrow, and then hit legs on Sunday.

I'll make sure he can still walk after, don't worry.

You know, we should try to get Tim Hortons to carry a protein shake - they are right across the street from the gym after all. Could you imagine a Honey Cruller - flavored protein shake?

I know it's sad - but I think I can.



Later.

Who's The Ugly Guy In Your Wallet?

I have to renew my Driver's Licence .

My Birthday is coming up soon, and it's been five years since I last renewed, meaning the plastic card I carry now will no longer be valid. (It also means the Government gets to take $75 of my hard-earned money, but that's another story.)

I actually can't wait to get an new licence - I hate the one I have now.

Driver's photos are never the most glamorous ones - but mine's nasty. I look like I just finished eating a small child and there appears to be at least one extra chin that I didn't know was there. On top of that, my hair's the shits 'cause I wore my hat, and you have to take it off for the photo.

Oh yeah - I'm a looker - that's for sure.

This time I'm around 20-25 pounds lighter, the chin appears to be gone, and I'll make sure not to wear the hat until after the picture. I want a licence I'm proud to show people - not one that's likely to get me charged with assaulting an officer if I hand it over at a traffic stop. (My gnarly photo being the weapon in question.)

Think they let me pose for a couple?

Or should I bring in my own - Glamour Shots, maybe?

Doesn't really matter, it'll be better than what I have now.




Later.

Spam Boy Must Die.

Thank you, Sumarno.

Thanks for being the type of tool that would spam my blog. I go through all the trouble of pouring my feelings out on the keyboard, and you go and use it as an introduction to your crappy porn blog.

It's not even good porn - I only looked through six or seven pages, not even 25 minutes worth, really. Is that the kind of traffic you want? Sure - you probably get more hits than me - but what would people rather see, supple, tanned young women exposing themselves or the ramblings of a man in mid-midlife crisis?


I think we all know the question to that.

I'll be nice and leave your link in the comment section - just to show no hard feelings. (I mean, you had to take the time to bypass Bloggers Word Verification - the strongest fail-safe known to man - you at least deserve something, right?)


But seriously, go peddle your smut somewhere else. I don't need your help finding porn.




Later.

Easy Like Monday Morning.

This morning was great.

I got up at 6:15, and had my shoes on and was out the door in five minutes flat. The sky was overcast, it was a little cool, and the moisture from last night's rains hung in the air like a curtain.

Great running weather.

I headed out down the road, avoiding the scattered piles of dog shit by my neighbor's lawn, and wound my way towards my destination: The Sportsplex. (It's a fair distance from my place, and is a good middle point in my circuit.)

As I rounded into the parking lot, everything was as I wanted it - no people, no cars, not a soul in sight. I pulled a note from the Rocky handbook, and sprinted up and down the stairs ten times as fast as I could. (I looked like an idiot - hence my desire for no one to be around.)

When I was done, I casually retraced my steps home, getting a little sprint in now and then.

I like running in the morning, be it at the gym or outside. I wish my area was a little more rural, as right now I have to drive to get to any wooded areas to run, and I'd really like to try some trail running.

But I'll take what I can get, and enjoy my time in the morning.

It was a shame that I had to ruin such as positive moment by going into work. Ah well, what can you do?



Later.

Lack Of Motivation.

I have a problem.

Some days I'm just lazy.

Case in Point:

Last night, after playing some Hockey on the 'ol Xbox 360, I flick through the channels and check out what's on. What do I see? Sin City. It's a favorite, and just started, so I think I'll watch for a bit.

It was good, but I kept getting annoyed with the commercials and the quality of the picture (Non HD). So What did I do?

Nothing.

I could have got off the couch, walked the 4 feet to the DVD rack, pulled out my copy of Sin City and put it in my upconverting DVD player - I would have had an excellent movie, commercial-free and in great quality.

But nope - I kept my lazy ass glued to the couch and suffered through pointless commercials. How sad is that?


It's not that that's a one-time occurrence - this has happened before. I'll suffer through shitty edits, commercial breaks, censored dubbing, whatever - even if I have a perfectly good copy right there.

It's a conundrum - that's for sure - and I should do something about it.

But maybe later - I think The Matrix is starting on TBS.
This should be good.




Later.

Shameful 80's

Oh my God.

The Radio station at work is having a "All 80's" Long Weekend. As painful as it sounds, I've found myself humming along and tapping my foot to the beat as I go about my day.

You see, in between all the shitty 80's tracks they are playing, (Don't Worry - Be Happy, Girls Just Want To Have Fun, etc.) They're playing some of the music that I actually grew up with and listened to at the time. It's hard not to rock out when you get to listen to this:



Or this:



And I'll admit, I even choked up when I heard this:




I know, me saying something positive about the radio at work is a sign of the Apocalypse or something, but it's not actually that bad. I daresay it's been enjoyable. There is one slight drawback though - I find myself yearning for big hair and tight leather pants. I think it'll pass after the weekend, right?

I hope so.

So if you are in the store, and see some guy rockin' out his air guitar down Aisle 4, don't worry - it's just me reliving my youth.




Later.

3 Things I Hate....

...About the May Long Weekend.

1. The Panic - It's the first nice long weekend of the year, and everybody and their dog is running around like mad, trying to get organized so they can charge out to a campsite with 200 other assholes who are also hurrying to get to the same campsite. The dazed, half-crazed look you see in some people's eyes? That just means they're enjoying their long weekend.



2. The Heat - Not that I don't like hot, but going from rainy and cool to scorching in one day seems a might odd. I hate breaking out in a sweat just from blinking.



3. Assholes - Assholes are two types of people - those who come up to me at work and ask me if I'm going away for the weekend, then feign insincerity when I tell them I'm working - And those who come up to me, ask "Hot enough for ya?" (when I'm indoors) and then tell me how great it is outside and start to describe what I'm missing. I'd like to stab those fuckers with a plastic spoon.

Thank God it's only a weekend - I think I can make it through without causing harm to myself or others.


But I'm not guaranteeing anything.




Later.

Late Nights & Early Mornings.

Yesterday was great.

I went to the gym, had a great day with the kids (That means no fighting and they listened), and got invited out for a for a free round of golf (and beers) at a great golf course.

After the round, we went to the pub for a bit, I enjoyed more beer and some yummy Yam Fries and headed home.

That's when all hell broke loose.

You see, I got home and everything was great. I played some Poker online - I was too wired to sleep - and then went to bed at about midnight. About 30 minutes later, The Boy started coughing.

He's had a slight nighttime cough for a couple of days - nothing a lozenge or some cough syrup doesn't rectify. I got up and checked on him, and his cough seemed worse than usual. I stayed with him and tried to comfort him and get him to sleep.

We were up until about 4:30 this morning. From then until 6:30 we got about 20-25 minutes of sleep at a time without him coughing.

And at 6:30? My other Boy woke up.

Bye-bye sleep, nice knowing you.

After numerous coffees for me, and a trip to the Doctor for The Boy, I find out he's got Pneumonia. (No need to panic, we caught it early.) I've been keeping him comfortable all day, but with the cough and just not feeling well, he hasn't rested or slept at all.

And I haven't either.

Tonight will be an early night for all of us, I think, and I'm hoping that The Boy (and Myself) can get the rest we need.


Must be God's way of punishing me for having a great golf game. (Karma's a bitch.)




Later.

New Gym.

My gym is moving, and will be closed for about a month or so.

For the last two days, I've been working out at a different place.

It's nice, and I do like the fact that they have about 4x the cardio equipment of my old gym. There are a bunch of new machines that I've never seen before, and it's cool to try something different.

This new place has the reputation of being the "Roid Ragers gym, but I've only seen one or two big guys and they seem alright to me. (Nobody's offered to inject anything into my ass, so I'm happy with that.)

I'll get a month pass, just until the old place is open again.

It's good to try something different, and to step out of the comfort zone that I had at my gym. It'll be good for me.


See you on the treadmill.





Later.

American Idol Must Die.

As I type this, American Idol is on in the other room.

I find it painful to overhear, forget about watching it.

Yes, I'll admit - I watched the first season, and have seen bits from season 2. After that I just couldn't stand to be around when it came on.

I don't like it's influence on music. That crap you hear on the radio? It's not like American Idol is doing anything to change that - they aren't looking for anyone new or different. They aren't even searching for the Next Big Thing - just the Next Thing. And talk about covering your bases. They had the Pop/Rock Girl win first, and then followed it with a Country Chick, Soulful Guy, Soulful White Guy, and countless other cookie-cutter personalities and talents.

And the public eats it up.

I don't blame the producers, they're milking this cash cow for as much and as long as they can. I blame the millions of people who watch and phone and keep this shit, and the crap that comes from it, on the air and on my TV. The fact that they take sometimes classic songs, butcher the arrangement and saccharinate it only adds to my displeasure.

I say we wait until the finale and nuke it from orbit. Tell Dubya that Osama's in attendance and he'll gladly push the button. (Although a nuke is too quick for Ryan Seacrest. He should somehow suffer more, if possible.)



Later.

Tastefully Distracting.

I watched 1:51 of this video before I realized she was cooking halibut.




Could have sworn she had milkshakes goin' on.


Thank you Food Network - for making me fell dirty & hungry at the same time.




Later.

It's Your Day, Mom.

Moms are important, and on a day like today you can only ask one thing:

• What has she done for me lately?

Nothing against my Mom, but she's been milking this holiday from me for almost 36 years now. Talk about resting on your laurels. If she still wants to receive this kind of recognition, she'll have to step up and produce a bit more.

Yeah, yeah, scraped knees and boo-boos aside, she did that shit ages ago. Want to impress me now? Make one of my mortgage payments. (That's better than kissing my owwie better.) Still taking credit for all that other stuff is like me still bragging about that Home Run I got in T-Ball.

What you're doing now is what counts, not what you did in the past, right?

I'll tell her about the new guidelines, and if she doesn't meet expectations by next year, she can forget that card, flowers and phone call.

That'll show her.




Later.


(Please don't show this to my Mom - she'll kick my ass.)
Love you Mom, thanks for everything.

Fresh Meat.

So it's Poker Night again.

Should be different this week, as it looks like some of our regular players won't make it, and we might have some other ones.

New people at Poker are both a joy and a frustration.

On one hand, it's great to play against someone that you've never seen before - it challenges you to adapt your playing style, and trying to figure out what they are trying to do brings a little more spice to the game.

On the other hand, new people usually do very well at our game. I don't know why, but they always seem to come out big their first time. It's good because they usually want to come back, (giving me a chance to win some money) but bad because I have to give up that money in the first place.

However it works out, it'll be another great night, and I hope my pockets are heavier at the end of it.



Later.

Fighting Father Time.

One of the guys I work with is substantially older than me.

It's good in that we can all benefit from his years of experience in the business, his familiarity with the customers, and his loyalty to the company.

It's everything else I can't stand.


He just can't keep up. My job isn't as physically demanding as some, but there is a part of it where the ability to get things done - and done fast - comes in handy. He just can't do it anymore.

Between that and the fact that his organizational skills are non-existent (you think after all this time he'd at least have some sort of system, or ability to follow any system), make it really difficult when I come back from my days off.

I've done all I can - hints, suggestions, outright telling him what needs to be done, but it just goes back to the same ol' same ol'. Even mentioning it to my bosses does nothing, as they just hope he'll put in his time and leave in a year or so. Meanwhile, that leaves me to clean up and re-organize after someone else. (Not a pleasant thing.)

I think all I can do is try to make it less stressful on myself - and hope he breaks a hip.



Later.

Behind The Scenes.

After watching this video, I'd like to add John Mayer to the list of People I'd Like To Have Coffee With.

Funny Shit.





Later.

Your Efforts Are Appreciated.

Just a note to the guy who invented yoga pants:

Thank You.

From the deepest part of my heart (and even lower) I thank you for your contribution to society. During this lovely weather, not a day goes by that I don't see your incredible product in action - and each time I'm just a little bit more thankful.

Unlike regular spandex, the only women I see wearing your product are the people with the physique to do so. And the wonderful manufacturing that you do covers any flaws and only enhances the natural beauty of the area. I don't know how you did it, but keep up the good work.

You're my new hero.

Later.

Ferrum Personage

Just got back from seeing Iron Man with the Sidekick.

Well done, Marvel Studios.

I enjoyed every minute of it. The casting was spot-on and the story and pacing were great. It may not be the best comic-book movie ever, but it's at least in the top 5. Robert Downey Jr. is a perfect Tony Stark, and I'll bitch-slap anyone who says different.

Of course this will be an automatic DVD purchase - (can't wait for Christmas) even more so if it comes in a red & gold steelbook case.

If you haven't heard already, stay for the after-credits surprise. Nice to see that The Sidekick and I weren't the only Internet-connected geeks to attend tonight - although we were the best looking. (C'mon - have you seen the type of nerds that hang around to watch the credits?)





Later.

Nothing.

You know what?

I've got nothing to say.

After a long day at work, doing some yardwork, and mindlessly sitting and looking at the screen for 15 minutes, I've realized that I don't even have anything intersting to write about.

I'm not sure if it's a testimonity to my mundane-ness, or if it's just an off day.

Don't worry, I'll spring back tomorrow.

Later.

"Hole" Grains.

Somebody should remind me not to eat Granola cereal before I go to bed and Oatmeal when I wake up.

If I could harness the power of my flatulence this morning, I wouldn't have had to walk to work - I could have flown.

Don't you feel better knowing that?


Later.

Taste With The Eyes, Not With The Mouth.

The worst thing a fat guy can do is watch the Food Network.

There is one show, however, that I can't miss.

Alton Brown's Good Eats is the greatest foods show ever. It has the right combination of Tastiness and Nerdiness that just seems to strike the right note with me.

It's like watching the perfect balance of Science and Home Ec. (Except that there are no goggles involved.)

I PVR it, so I can watch whenever I have a chance. I try not to watch on an empty stomach though - that's just torture.



Later.

Rub My Nose In It.

One of the great things about being a Hockey fan is watching your team succeed.

(But since my team got knocked out of the playoffs last night, I'll talk about bitter disappointment instead.)

The other great thing about being a Hockey fan is laughing at other guy's teams when they blow it.

The guys at work had a great time with me today.

See, I work with mostly Canuck fans - (Yes, that alone should qualify me for a medal.) and nothing gave them greater joy than to remind me that not only did my team get knocked out, but they got swept in four games and shellacked in an 8-2 loss in the last game on home ice.

I guess it's only fair as I was pretty brutal on them when their team didn't make the playoffs.

Now the worst thing that can still happen would be for the Habs to make it to the third round - that'll cost me a DVD, and that would be the greatest disappointment of all.

Well, there's always next year.....




Later.

Piles Of Useless Crap.

I'm having an OCD day.

It's my day off - and later on today my Grandmother, Aunt, and Uncle are coming to visit. Needless to say, a little tidying is in order - just to straighten up the place. (I do have two kids, so you know it's not going to be immaculate.)

But for some reason, there's a couple of areas that are just driving me nuts.

• The top of the Fridge - Why does it seem like everything gets shoved here? It shouldn't take me a half hour to clear it up. (But it did.) There's crap from Easter, a Christmas bow, random photographs - just shit that should have been dealt with ages ago.
• My Bookcases - What the top of the Fridge is to the kitchen, my Bookcases are to the rest of the house. Small peices of the kid's toys, scraps of paper, random Poker chips - you name it, it's here. I was almost going to pull the books out, dust and re-organize but time and laziness got the better of me.
• The Shoe Rack - What's the point of having a rack if I'm the only guy who uses it? It's like the rack isn't a place to keep your shoes as much as it's a symbol of where the shoes are supposed to be. My kids seem to think as long as the shoes are in the same room as the rack, everything is okay.

With cleaning out those areas, doing the recycling, and just getting the regular cleaning done, I'm almost wiped. It'll look good for today, but I just know it'll pile up faster than I can throw it all out.

It drives me nuts......

Isn't there some sort of show on HGTV or TLC for shit like this?

Later.