Personal Best.

So I'm back from Victoria.

How did the race go? (Thanks for asking.)

It was great - I set my new PR of 38:55 for the 8K.

The time on the clock was 39:57, but that's because from where I was, it took over a minute just to cross the starting line - being in a corral with 2000 other people isn't that much fun. Although most of the women did have runner's physiques, if you know what I mean. (Hubba Hubba) The computer chip they attached to my shoe gave the real time of the race.

Funny thing was, I didn't have time to hit the washroom before the race - sure, I went before I left the house, but once we got downtown to where I was supposed to be there just wasn't time. I think my overwhelming desire to urinate might have had something to do with my record time.

Next week? The Miracle Beach 10K - we'll see how that goes.

But until then, I'll shut up about running for a while and concentrate on my other passion - Boobies.



Later.

#8898

What's that number?

It's my number for the 8K race I'm in on the weekend. I slap it on my chest so people can somehow keep track of me should I somehow get lost and wander off the course.

"What do you mean the race doesn't go through a strip club? - I was just taking a hydration break."

I'm hoping that it doesn't signify my finish.

I don't care how I place, but I'm hoping to beat 41:00 for my race time.

But I do like the symmetry of the number.
I think the only racer I'm jealous of is whomever has 6969.



Later.

Thank You, IFC.

As quiet time rolled around the house today, (the Boys were resting and out of my hair) I flicked the channels looking for something interesting.

For some reason I stopped on IFC.

Now, I've never been a huge fan of indie movies. Outside of early Kevin Smith, nothing really springs to mind. But for some reason I caught this movie about 20 minutes in and couldn't stop watching.

The next thing I know two hours have gone by.

I think it was the noir-ish vibe the movie has - that, and the fact that just like Fargo, you can't help but be drawn into the way these people talk. Picture 1930's rough-P.I. talk from the mouths of angsty modern youth.

Something about it was just compelling.


I recommend it.

(I also recommend Team America: World Police, so take it as you will.)



Later.

Public Excecution Transportation.

I'm never riding Greyhound again.

It's been years since I ever had to take the bus, and the way things are looking, it'll be a cold day in hell before I ever do again.

After the accidents, decapitation, stabbings, and now a bacterial outbreak?

I'll pay the fuel surcharge and fly - not only will I get there faster, I'll get there alive.



Later.

"More Machine Than Man."

So I just got back from Bowling tonight. (I did well, thankyouverymuch - over average on all three games.)

There's a guy on my team ( the guy who I subbed for last week) who bowls with one of the contraptions on the right strapped to his arm. What it's supposed to do is allow you to get extra spin on the ball, and a bigger impact at the other end of the lanes.

It doesn't do that when he uses it. (No wonder the guys were so happy to have me subbing for him last week - he sucks.) I don't know what he's trying to do with it, but it's not even close to it's intended purpose.

I'm also trying to ignore the fact that it looks like some sort of kinky sex toy - the bulbous tip has me a bit worried, as a matter of fact. I don't want to judge a guy by the equipment he uses, but if he can't bowl with it, what does he have it for? (Maybe the whole bowling thing is just a cover for his deviant fetishes.)

I'd just like to point out that I score 40 pins average higher than him per game - and my equipment is all natural.

Take that, Robocop.




Later.

Disco To Disco.

------->






I ran 15K today. (9.39 miles.)

It took me 1 hour and 21 minutes.

It was exhilarating.

I got the crazy idea in my head that it would be cool to run from the Store I work at now to the Store I used to work at. I suggested it to The Wife last night, and she thought I was crazy - so I laced up the shoes this morning and headed south.

It was easier than I thought. I paced myself at about 30 seconds/mile slower than my usual, and tried to just keep one foot in front of the other. There's a big hill about halfway through the run, and that was the most surprising part - it was way easier than what I expected. I think I'll try it again in a couple of weeks, and just try to improve my time. (It all depends on the weather - I'm not running for over an hour in a so'easter.)

It's nice to know I can go that distance. I'll admit, my legs are a bit tight right now, but that's also after working for nine hours and walking to and from work.

It's a good thing I'm sitting down - my legs have done enough work today.




Later.

Good vs. Evil

Good: Going to The Gym this morning.
Evil: Having a Sausage w/Egg McMuffin with the Wife and Youngest afterwards.

Good: Having The Youngest pee on the potty and giving him his reward.
Evil: Having him shit his pants 15 minutes later.

Good: Skipping my run this morning because of the pouring rain.
Evil: Having the sun shine brightly when there is no chance I can go running.

Good: Having a health conscious Subway Dinner with the kids.
Evil: Running 5K an hour later, and almost throwing up because I feel full of bread.

Good: Even being full of bread, only being one minute below my best time.
Evil: The compulsion I have to go out and better that as soon as I can. (You know The Sidekick's gonna suffer, right?)





Later.

Where Credit Is Due...

I'm getting tired of admitting he's right.

I used to (and still do) give The Sidekick grief over his musical choices. I still think that 85% of them are shit - (I just can't get into James Brown) but there are a few gems that he suggests.

He'll point out a band and tell me how fantastic they are, but it's not usually until the 763rd time he mentions them that I actually pay attention.

(I should give him more credit, he is the guy who re-introduced me to Pearl Jam. We'll forget about the failed experiment that was The Tragically Hip.)

But a while ago he mentioned (for the 764th time) a band called Kings Of Leon. I decided to give their album Because Of The Times a listen, and really enjoyed it. ( At least half the songs are on my running playlist on the Zune.) I hadn't had a chance to hear the new album Only By The Night yet, but when The Sidekick stopped in to see me at work today he told me that he'd heard it, and since I loved the last album so much I was really going to dig this one.

He's right.

I'm on my second listen through as I type this right now.

It rocks.
(And I mean that as a former long-haired glam headbanger from the late 80's - when using the word "rocks" to describe music actually meant something.)

So Thank You, Sidekick - you were right yet again.

(He's never going to let me live this down.)



Later.

King Of The Lanes.

So I've gone back to Bowling.

I used to bowl competitively for ages, but quit it about 4-5 years ago - the league I was in was just too intense, and I wasn't having any fun. It's not that I didn't like the sport, but it was just too negative and I would have rather spent that time at home.

My old team is still (mostly) together, and they asked if I could be the backup - the guy who gets called if someone is sick or can't make it. I agreed - but said that I couldn't do it all the time, just occasionally.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Sure, the decor in the old alley has changed, but that's about it. There's a bigger T.V. in the lounge and they've put in computerized scoring, but it's still the same guys throwing the balls and drinking the beers. After I walked in, I realized I knew at least 97% of the people from when I bowled before. (Some of these guys don't know when to quit.)

There's the fat guy who wheezes a lot when picking up the ball, (There's more than one version of him.) The guy who is really into analyzing the breakdown of the match (it's all done by the computer, retard), the guy who has the rank B.O. but nobody says anything because we are all nice Canadians, and the guy who has more supplemental equipment attached to him than is really necessary to throw a ball. (The only sport that exceeds Bowling for useless things that are supposed to help your game is Golf. Seriously, I'm not kidding.)

All in all I did well, considering it's been so long since I bowled - the guys were impressed with the strength of my throw - I didn't mention the gym, instead I told them it's my masturbation arm.

I'm covering for a guy for the next two Bowling nights, so we'll see if my skills are truly back or if I'm just a flash in the pan.

See you on the lanes.





Later.

Pace Yourself.

I've had 4 runs so far with my Nike+ Sportband.

I'm digging it.

Being the visual guy that I am, I like to be able to load my runs into the computer and "see" my progress. It's also nice to be able to set goals and watch as you make progress on them. (I thought I'd start with 90 miles in 30 days - should be able to do that, right?)

So why did I go with the Sportband and not the iPod plug in? For one, I like my Zune, and enjoy running with it. I also sometimes like to run with just the natural sounds around me: birds, cars, my own tortured wheezing... (I kid, I kid.)

Sure, I could have gone with a GPS unit, Like the Garmin 405 (Sexy!) but I also didn't want to drop $300+ dollars on something I'm just trying out. Maybe, in the future, I might go that way - but for now, the Sportband is great.

Just so you know my stats so far:

4 runs - 15.06 miles total ( 24.23Km)
Avg Pace - 8'21/Mile (5'11/Km)
Fastest mile - 7'25
Fastest 5K - 25'22
Longest Run (so far) - 6.47 Miles

I'm going to be working on improving those, especially before I go to Victoria. (21 Days!)


See you on the streets...




Later.

Dumb, Retarded Humor...I Love It.

Seth MacFarlane (Family Guy) has some clips from his "Cavalcade of Comedy" up on YouTube.



Are they lowbrow? Yes.
Are they in poor taste? Yes.

And thus, they make me laugh.



Later.

A Bridge Too Far.

Remember my Coworker? The one that talks too much?

Things just got a whole lot worse.

She was having some problems with her teeth - I'm not sure what, as I wasn't paying attention when she was going on about it. In the end she needed some work done while she was on her holidays, and came back with a partial bridge on her front bottom teeth.

The problem is, she now has a slight whistle/lisp when she talks.

I don't think she's noticed it yet, and if she has she's not drawing attention to it. It's hard to ignore, though, as it's like talking to someone who's been eating crackers and trying to whistle. I'm sure it's frustrating for her, but it's down-right annoying for the rest of us. (Like I couldn't stand to hear her talk before.)

I am being civil about it, though - which is a change for me. I know I'd hate to be in the same situation, and I think that the other staff would take it easy on me if I was.

Who am I fucking kidding? - They'd make my life a living hell if they had the chance, and I'm turning down a prime opportunity for some revenge - payback for all the times I had to sit through her inane prattle in the coffee room.

I think I'll start off by calling her Snagglepuss.... and go downhill from there.




Later.

Jerry & Bill

You know, after seeing these Seinfeld/Gates Commercials, I've realized one thing:




The random, weird conversation type thing? That's what The Sidekick and I sound like. Why didn't Microsoft offer us $300 Million to talk about Windows Vista?

Hell, we would have been funnier.

Their loss.




Later

Crazy Like A Fox

Highlights from my 8K run in the 2008 Terry Fox Run:

• 41:00 - My time for the run. 2 laps of 4K each. (As an afterthought, I should have done the 12K.)
• Having only three guys finish ahead of me - One's a marathoner, one's a longtime runner, and the other guy was only 25 feet in front of me.
• Watching the one girl that passed me (snottily) slow down and start walking at about the 6K mark. As I ran by her, I picked up my pace just a little, because I could.
• Getting high fives from the wife and kidlets as I lapped them my second time around. (They were walking the course.)
• Having The Boy run into my arms at the finish line, were I was waiting for them after I was done.

Talk about a great fuckin' day. Awesome.




Later.

Save My Soul.

I'm in the market for an External Hard Drive.

Come payday, I'm probably getting this.

Yeah, that's one Terabyte of storage. I need it for all the porn.

The Sidekick even went as far as to accuse me of getting ready to download HD Movies - it hadn't even occurred to me to used the space for that.

Really, though, I'm just doing it so that I can wipe my main system when ever I want to, without all the hassle of juggling 17 DVD's worth of backups. It's really something I should have done a long time ago - I've just been putting it off for a while.

I think while I'm at it, I'll throw in some more memory as well - give the 'ol girl a treat. (More memory is like Botox for computers, right?)


We'll see how it goes - but having almost 15 times the amount of storage I currently have at my disposal will be tempting. I may never delete anything ever again.




Later.

Where Real Life & Hollywood Differ...

The Rocketeer was released in 1991. It's an American movie involving spies, saboteurs,the mob, federal agents, and a guy just trying to do the right thing.

10 years later, in real life, a bunch of crazy fuckers killed 3000 people in one day.

In the climatic scene at the end of the movie, the Mob and the G-Men team up to help defeat the Nazi's - The Rocketeer saves his girl, defeats the Head Bad Guy, and all is warm and cozy at the end of 110 minutes.

It's been seven years since 9/11. The Bad Guy is still out there, the Republicans and Democrats are still at each others throats, ( if the Mob and the Cops can team up, why can't they?) and nothing is warm and cozy at all.

Of all the failures of any Government in the western world, the fact that the main people responsible for this one atrocity still being at large ranks somewhere at the top of the list.

Maybe we should get Hollywood in on the action.





Later.

Quantify My Solitude.

Behold the Second trailer for the next 007 film,Quantum Of Solace.




God Damn.

I don't care if the Secret Evil Organization is Spectre or not - I'm lovin' it. The inclusion of Spectre in the Bond mythos was always one of my favorite parts. The fact that Bond isn't facing just one crazy fucker, but a whole cadre of them seems to just make sense. After all, who better to challenge those who fight for Queen and Country than those who hold allegiance to no country at all?

I can't wait for November.



Later.

Duck & Cover.

In just about 3 hours, the Large Hadron Collider will be fired up.

What's going to happen? Nobody has a friggn' idea. Miniature Black Holes? The end of the Earth? Absolutely nothing? Who knows?

If you're reading this in the morning - I guess nothing major happened.

If you're reading this on the other side of the event horizon, we've got bigger shit to worry about.



Later.

Sad Ronald.

So today was the Sidekick's last day at The Arches.

Sadly, I did not get to see him walk out the Drive-Thru door into the sunset (I was at my job), but I'm sure it was both relieving and bittersweet at the same time.



Of the fond memories I do have of The Arches, The Sidekick is prominent in a lot of them. Leaping over chairs to fight in the office, shooting the shit by the landing area, faxing "I Feel" lists back and forth, and just making my days there tolerable - he covered all the bases.

But he's moving on to better things now. I know it will be a shock to have a job where people don't automatically assume he's a piece of shit just because he works there, and dealing with people who don't flip out over missing their Chicken Sauce will also be a surprise.

He's going to enjoy it.

Good on ya, my brother - and remember - whatever you do, I got your back.



Later.

3 Steps Away From A Sonic Boom....

I went for a run today on my lunch hour - I just wanted to run at close to "race pace" and see where I was for the Victoria Road Race.

I ran 7K (I know, not 8) in about 33 minutes. It worked out to a pace of 4:52/Km or 7:49/mile. I think that's a good improvement.

Why didn't I just run 8K? Well.... I had my distances wrong. What I thought was my halfway mark was about a half kilometer off - hence only 7 and not my 8K.

Still, it means that my time in Victoria should be around 36 minutes - and I think that'll be just fine.


Catch me if you can...


Later.

The Redneck Within...

I can't help it - I fucking love this song.

It plays at the gym every morning, and I find it hard to lift while it's on - I'm laughing too hard.




Your mileage may vary, but I think it's great.


Later.

Signed & Sealed...

It's official.

I'm now registered for the 8K Road Race at the Royal Victoria Marathon. I'll be one of 747 (so far) people lining up to run on October 12th.

Am I excited? Yes.

Am I nervous? Yes.

I want to do well, but I've also realized that just doing it is an accomplishment. A year ago my largest form of exercise was getting up off the couch to get a donut off the counter. (I'd say I've made good progress so far.)

If I do well this year, I think I'll do the Half-Marathon next year. (That's 21.3K - a step up from what I'm used to, to say the least.) But we'll take it one step at a time (excuse the pun) and finish this and the Miracle Beach run first.

The race is at 7:30 am, and my biggest fear is that I'll have to run by a Starbucks or two on the route. I hope they wouldn't frown on a guy running while chugging a Skinny Vanilla Latte.

We'll see how it goes.



Later.

Back To The Grind.

Tomorrow is my first day back from holidays.

I'm almost looking forward to it.

You see, I've discovered that I'm a creature of routine - I sleep, go to the gym, work, run, and poop. (I do many exciting things as well, but that's pretty much the basis of my existence.) When you take 8+ hours a day out of that routine - things start to fall apart.

Such as:

• My Diet - I've been eating like shit on these holidays. Sure, I've been going to the gym, but without the regular lifting and moving that my job requires, I'm just not doing enough to justify the calories. (I'd still like to drop about 10 pounds before the 8K in Vic, and that's only 42 days away.)
  
• My Motivation - When there's no time frame for things to be done, I'm in no rush to do them. I run in the mornings because I have to - after work is tied up with the kids and such - but if I can run anytime, the urgency to do it is gone, and I either skip it, or do it half-assed.
• My Sleep - Normally I can't nap in the middle of the day, (God, I miss the couch in Oyster River) so I just keep moving and burning my energy up. I napped at least an hour for each of the last three days, and it kept me up later each night. My sleep cycle is going to be a bitch to get straightened out.
• My Brain - I need the interaction that work gives me. Spending time with my kids is great, but talking to other people is where I get my spark - my humor and wit. The Boys understand that farting is funny, but they don't get sarcasm yet, and I'm not allowed to tell them any blowjob jokes. Even my thought process for the blog has been affected. I've blogged more on holidays when I wasn't even in town.

So breaking this evil cycle will be a good thing. I know going back to work will still be semi- shitty, but just getting back to the routine will be a welcome relief.

But I'm saying that now - tomorrow may be a different story.





Later.

Stagnation

It's not that Holidays have rotted my brain - really, it isn't.

It's just that with nothing to really say, I've effectively have nothing to say.

I could tell you stories of the gym, but you've heard all those. I could tell you that I've been doing dramatic and astounding things, but I haven't.

Why lie about it?


Later.

I Feel...

1. That when it rains for your entire holidays, you should be able to call a "do over".
2. That spending 2 hours in Butterfly World made me a better Dad, and not an emasculated shell of a man. (It just felt that way.)
   
3. That just because I gained three pounds binging over the weekend, it's still alright to take it out on my workout partner in the gym. ("We're gonna bench what?")
4. That the crazy looks I get from people when I run in the rain are just as funny as the crazy looks I get for running when it's 24° outside.
5. That my downfall will be Peanut Butter. Don't ask.
6. That I shall have to watch 14 hours of cinematic masterpieces to erase from my mind the horror that is Hot Rod.
7. That the next time I agree to rent such a horror, I am attacked by midgets and punched in the gonads at least three times.
8. That getting up at 5:45am to go to the gym at 6 on my holidays means I'm committed, not retarded.
9. That Barack Obama should have picked Hillary as Veep - pickin' a white guy just gives the rednecks another reason to shoot at him.
10. That phoning me and asking if I'm going to vote Liberal or Conservative if there is a fall election is like asking me if I want to be kicked in the right or left testicle - I don't want to do it, and no matter what I choose, I'm not going to like it.

Later.

Lee Meriweather Was A Stone Cold Fox.

I just watched Batman: The Movie with The Boys the other night. It's good camp, they love it, and where else are you going to hear the line: " Sometimes you just can't get rid of a bomb."

I must admit, though - I have a new appreciation for Lee Meriweather. That woman was a total package. I think I prefer her as "Miss Kitka" the Russian journalist, but she does fill out the Catwoman suit quite nicely.

I think The Boys and I were appreciating that movie on two different levels, that's for sure.


Later.

Kenyan Or Jamaican?

I'm having trouble deciding on a nationality.

I'd love to be able to cover the grueling marathon distance like the Kenyans do, but can't overlook Jamaica's dominance in the short track events. (Which is better ladies - a quick sprint or a long run?)

The main problem I have is that I'm the whitest Canadian I know - even with running outside, I've only got a pseudo-tan, not even worth bragging about. I'd never fit in.

Maybe I should incorporate time in the tanning booth into my training regimen.

Or, maybe I should just run more.

Yeah, that's it.


Later.




P.S. - I did my 5K outside today, as opposed to the treadmill, and did it in about 26:00 (give or take 5 seconds.) Although not below the 25 min mark like I hoped, it was nice to be close.

Fall To The Dark Side.

I had a chance to play the demo for Star Wars: The Force Unleashed yesterday. (And today, and on my lunch, and after dinner..)

I'm impressed.

It looks great, and although the gameplay is a bit tricky at first, it plays well. I hope the storyline is as compelling as it seems, because I like the fact that they went with a "bad guy" to start. But it is Star Wars, so I know there will be eventual redemption and at least a minor shift toward the light. Until then, I'll gladly Force Choke any whiny bitch that even hints at Toshi Station and power converters.

It's too bad that I have to wait 26 more days to get it, though - I guess even Sith Apprentices have to wait sometimes.



Later.

Greased Lightning

Today I ran 5K (on the Treadmill) in 24:40.

That's my new personal best. (It's also 45 seconds faster than the last time I consciously timed myself on a Treadmill 4 months ago.)

I think I'll time my next run outside and see how long it takes - it would be interesting to see the difference. I know it'll be somewhat slower, but to be around the 25:00 mark is my goal.


Catch me if you can.




Later.

$1.41/Litre will change my mind..

I used to think these guys were losers.





I used to think they were riding toys. (Toys for losers, in fact.)



Now I wonder how the mileage is, and if their insurance is cheap or not.....




Later.

S-A-B-O-T-A-G-E

Every once in a while I get the feeling that my other half doesn't like the improvements in my physical appearance.

Oh, I know she likes it, but I get the feeling she felt a lot better when I was a chubby bastard. (Now that I'm just a bastard, and not chubby as well, it's got her rattled.)

She's been doing things lately that seem like she's actively working towards undermining my efforts. She brought me home a coffee the other evening (awesome) and a couple of donuts as well. She knows they are my weakness, and how horribly bad they are for you, and she got upset with me when I said that although I appreciate it, I didn't want them. As soon as I could see the fight starting, I capitulated and ate one.

It's not just donuts, either - it's extra stuff, under the guise of "for the kids" - my house is full of muffins, chips, cheese knots, breads, etc. She says they are just snack foods for the kids to nibble on, but since when do the kids "nibble on" 2 dozen muffins? Why are there three cheese knots when we only have two kids? (And she doesn't like cheese knots.) I avoid eating the stuff as much as I can, but what do you do when it's the only stuff in the house?

I've learned from before that diet is the most important part of weight loss and maintenance. I've also witnessed countless other people fail at their goals because they were not getting the support of the people in their household when it comes to food do's and don'ts.

I don't want to be one of those people.

I think I'll embark on a mission of counter espionage - soon every chocolate chip in the house will be replaced by a stalk of celery. I'll arrange the fridge so you don't have to reach past the jug of chocolate milk to get to the skim, and alarm bells will ring if a donut even enters my front yard.

I have seven weeks until my 8K run in Victoria and eight until the Miracle Beach 10K - my goal is to be ten pounds lighter by then, and I'm going to do it.

I'll be on the lookout for traps and tricks - but if I wake up and she's intravenously pumping whip cream into my arm, I think I might need some help.





Later.

Herpes It Isn't.

For the first time in over three years, (at least) I got hit with a virus.

And it was a nasty one too.

It's called Xp Antivirus 2008, and I think I got it from a page that was supposed to link to article from the Chicago Sun-Times. My browser went funny after that, and a couple hours later my computer started acting up. It masquerades as part of Windows Security Centre, and claims that your computer is massively infected. (Which it is, but just by itself.)

Thank God I've trained my wife not to just randomly click "Ok" when she sees something like this. She called me at work and asked what she could do. I told her to get out of the chair and leave the room.

With the help of some trusty programs and skillful scrubbing of the registry, it's all gone now. In my research for removal and purging, I also found out that I'm not the only one who has been recently hit - it's cutting a path around the Internet right now - so it makes me feel somewhat relieved that I'm not the only idiot out there.

Careful browsing habits, people - I should practice what I preach.

Remember - double wrap before going in.




Later.

Superman May Be A Dick....

But I never realized The Flash was so gangsta'.




There were three separate times when I almost spit my coffee on my monitor from laughing so hard. That either means it's funny, or I've developed some strange caffeine-related gag reflex.


Later.

Wordle.

This is my blog.

This is my blog in Wordle:


It's pretty cool, I think. It scans your blog or whatever and makes word jumbles out of the content. (The site calls them "Beautiful Word Clouds", but there's no way in hell I'm calling them that.)

Just to see how accurate it is, I put a couple more blogs in it.

Bish's:




& The Sidekick's:

I think it shows an accurate representation of what we write about. I was sure that mine was going to say "My Penis" about 10 million times.

Funny how that worked out.

Check it out, it's a good way to waste 10 minutes - and you've already wasted that time here, so what's another 10 minutes?



Later.

Lack Of Content.

Don't worry; I'm not dead.

I know that I usually post everyday, and that my infrequent updates of late may have left you wondering if I was still among the living or that maybe I cast aside my mortal coil and moved to a higher plane of existence. (Port Alberni)

I'm still here, it's just that I don't have anything to say right now. There's thoughts percolating, but nothing cohesive or interesting enough to write down.

You can do without me for another day or two, right?


Yeah, I thought so.




Later.

IJustWantedToSeeHowLongOfATitleBloggerWouldLetMeTypeBeforeFreakingOut.

150 Characters. (The page margins won't show you the rest, so I cut it off.)

Well, at least I got Fiona Apple beat for Most Useless Fucking Title Ever.

That's something.



Later.

Of Playgrounds & Panty Lines.

(As much as the above title sounds Pedo, it's not - no children were harmed in the following post.)


Even though I felt like shit today, I had promised my kids I'd take them to the park. If there's one thing I've learned since the little tykes came along, it's that when you promise them something, you have to deliver.

So we head to the playground. When we arrive, it's overrun with kids from a daycare next door. My kids are thrilled because there are tons of other children for them to play with, and I'm thrilled because the 3 guardians of these little angels are all wearing my all-time favorite outfit on women aged 21-40, yoga pants.

So I sat at the playground, watching my kids run around and play, and also made some small talk with the ladies. The sun was shining, there was a nice breeze, my coffee was just right, and I was surrounded by God's wonderful creations wrapped in Man's greatest fashion accomplishment.

I knew it had to end sometime.

After a while, the daycare kids had to go back inside, and my kids were wiped from all the running around and playing. As I was getting our stuff together, The Boy asked "Can we come back and play with the daycare kids on your next day off, Daddy?". I looked over my shoulder at the lycra-enveloped wonders exiting the playground and replied:

"Absolutely, son - My days off can't come fast enough."





Later.

Jesus Was A Runner.

And a damn good one, too.

I have to say that right now, more than anything, I'm digging the outside running.

The breeze, the sun, all of it comes together so nicely that I don't even feel my legs moving. I used to think the treadmill was a great way to zone out - now I'm convinced that outside is the way to go. (Did you happen to notice how girl runner's bouncy bits really bounce when they are running? It's an added perk, I'd say.)

Tonight I did just over 6K - I went slowly because I was tackling a monster hill right at the start, and I wanted to save my energy. I finished it in just over forty minutes, which also includes stopping to talk to the Sidekick. (See? When is the last time you ran into anybody on the treadmill? It just doesn't happen.) I had so much energy left at the end I almost chided myself for not going faster.

Bish was right - The me of a year ago would have scoffed at just going out for a run. "Outside? To run? Where? - I'll go if it's a donut shop." I'm impressed with the progress so far.

I figure if Jesus can walk with the cross on his back, I can run. I ain't got shit on mine.(and there's nothing tied to my ass, either.)




Later.

In Absentia

Later

I Love Shitty Movies.

Got home from work tonight and watched Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay.

That makes 3 "shitty" movies I've watched in the past week: Semi-Pro, The Heartbreak Kid, and H&K2. What can I say? They're funny, you don't have to think about them, and it's a mindless way to veg out for 118 minutes.

Do I like deeper, more substantial movies? Yes, yes I do. But if you are just in the mood for mindless lowbrow humor, why not go with what works? I also like comedy that makes me think - but at the end of a long day, that is precisely what I don't want to do - think.

So pull up the couch and bring on the dick and fart jokes - I need to de-stress.



Later.

Inner Rock Spectre.

Have you ever been driving your car, and all of a sudden can't recall the last few minutes of your trip?

You know you did it - you're still in your car - but you can't recall turning left, right, left, left, right. It's like your brain switched off, but you were still able to drive.

That's how I am when I play Guitar Hero 3.

I'll be crusin' along, rockin' out - and I'll see a complicated note pattern coming up. As long as it takes to think to myself "You're gonna fuck this up bad.", I'm through it and done. I can't recall even thinking about what buttons to push - it just happened.

The only explanation I can come up with is that I'm possessed by some Rock God. They somehow take over my body and allow me to progress along the path they must have taken years before. (But in real life, not a video game.) It's either that or I have to believe that I'm just a lucky spaz who happens to hit the right keys when he's flailing away like an idiot.

You can see why I went with the first guess.

Possession would explain so many things - Why I like groupies so much, my lifelong desire to live on a bus, and my secret yearning for leather pants. (Those must be the signs of a restless spirit.)


So when I start hitting 98-99% on Through Fire & Flames - you have to thank the two of us.


Me and my Inner Rock God.




Later.

YouTube Horoscope.

'Cause, you know - I'm just too damn busy to read it in the newspaper.

Ohhh - a new moon in my third house? Holy shit - I'm glad I found that out before I got dressed tomorrow.

Now if it was a naked horoscope, I could get behind this astrology thing....

Later.

Running On Empty.

You know what's tough?

Doing 35 minutes on Wii Fit (No games, just strength training), and then running 8K.

I just about threw up when I walked through my front door.
(Isn't exercise great?)

Either one by themselves aren't that hard - but put the two of them together and they sure did kick my ass. I was going to run 10K tonight, but once I hit the 4K mark (by The Sidekick's place) I decided to turn around and make it an early night.

My pace was faster than before, though. I think it has something to do with all the other people out running - I don't want to be the slow, chubby guy out there, so I kicked it into a higher gear. That, combined with Pearl Jam and The Foo blasting in my ears, helped me pick up my feet.

But now the tank is empty - It's time to hit the sack.



Later.

You Got Your Chocolate In My Peanut Butter!!

Ok, not really.

I stumbled uopn these videos on YouTube. See what happens when some guy takes two of my favorite movies and mashes 'em together with the all-time favorite. (I would say 3, but there's no way in hell Rush Hour is a favorite of mine.)

Watch and enjoy.








The Holy Trilogy will never be the same....




Later.

10K, Bitches.

No, I did not win $10,000

But I did run 10K today.

I got up this morning, strapped on the shoes and ran. I'm pretty sure it's the farthest I've ever run in a single moment in my recent memory. (You do have to remember, I'm over Thirty and my memory is pretty shitty.)

I did it in 55 minutes.

I probably could have gone faster if I would have pushed it more at the start, but my goal today was just to finish it. I'm even more committed now to doing the 8K in Victoria and the 10K at Miracle Beach. Those are my goals for the fall. (Still part of my overall goals - it feels good to be making progress.)

I have to admit, I sprinted at the end to make it home in time, and it felt like the run kicked my ass. But it also energized me, 'cause the rest of the day at work wasn't that bad. (And The Sidekick and I did another 1.5 miles tonight. - I checked - Yay Google Earth!)

Can Runner's High last 24 hours?


God I hope so.




Later.

Release.

Ever have one of those days when you have to pee, yet don't get a second to dash to the washroom?

For the last three hours, I had to piss like my life depended on it, but couldn't get away. Worse yet, I was running around and lifting things, and could feel every movement in my bladder.

The feeling of release when I did finally make it to the can was mind-blowing - I'd liken it to orgasm without all the fun. (Plus there's never a newspaper above the urinal when I'm having an orgasm.)

I could almost do with a smoke and a nap - then the circle would be complete.



Later.

Ink'd

I have a fascination with women who have tattoos.

I'll be honest - I think it's hot.

Forget the Tramp Stamp ones, they are a dime a dozen. I'm talking about the girls who have something different, not just some random tribal thing slapped above their ass. (Not that there's anything really wrong with that..)

I like to think the woman who has a tattoo is showing a bit of an edgier side, something that breaks away from the pack, but still stays within the realm of the "normal" people. Thank God for the rise in popularity and acceptance of women with tats - it makes my life much more pleasurable. (While I'm at it, I'd like to thank God for summer time and the clothing (and lack of said clothing) that goes with it.

Sure, there are exceptions to every rule, as there are some women and some tattoos that I find downright disgusting, but when done right and displayed accordingly, there is nothing sexier than ink on skin.


Later.

Beverage Spectrum.

If there is one thing I'll never understand, it's people who eat blue food.

I'm not talking about Blueberries - I'm referring to the bright, florescent type drinks that seem so popular right now. It just seems wrong to me.

I used to know a guy whose favorite drink was Vodka and Blue Kool-Aid. That's great if you are an adolescent alcoholic who doesn't know any better, but in a 20- something guy? You think he'd pick something a little more manly. (I guess it's a favorite in Port Alberni.)

It just gags me to see someone chugging back some unholy, unnaturally bright concoction - how can you believe anything that colour is actually good for your body? Think of the work your kidneys have to go through filtering out all the shit they put in it just to make it bright and shiny - it blows my mind.

(And when you are on dialysis - don't worry - I won't say I told you so.)



Later.

Facebook'd

I got off Facebook a long time ago.

I found it to be an annoyance, a distraction, and as full of meaningful contributions as Xbox Live is full of intellectual discourse.

But I keep having people tell me to sign back up.

Sure, I can see the positive side of it all, but compared to what I found the cons to be, it just isn't worth it.

Everyone I want to stay in contact with, I either have their phone number, email, blog address or I see them everyday.

Everyone else can go fuck themselves.


Later.

No Accounting For Taste.

I've lost my faith in Humanity.

It's not the endless war in Iraq.

It's not the money-hungry gas companies.

It's not the mindless crimes committed against our fellow humans.

It's the fact that the most-viewed video on YouTube is Avril Lavinge's Girlfriend. (93 million views? WTF?)

What is the world coming to?


No wonder the earth is going to hell in a hand basket - look at the shit we are destroying our brains with. It doesn't help that 10 of the top 20 are Rap/ Hip hop videos and at least 2 of the other 10 are by My Chemical Romance. (That's sad - really, really sad.)

But what was I expecting? I didn't think I'd find a documentary on the Large Hadron Collider, but at least something intellectual would be nice. Alas, it was not to be. I think I'm getting dumber just looking at that page.

But at least I can get caught up on watching all these Timbaland videos....




Later.

Fuck You, Mats Sudin.

Let me set the record straight - I'm Not a Vancouver Canucks Fan, (Go Avs!) but even I think it's retarded that Mats Sundin hasn't responded yet to the offer the Canucks put in front of him on July 1st.

2 years - $20 Million.

Is he fucking nuts?

At least give them an answer. I'd understand if you said no right away - nobody wants to dance with the Ugly Chick at the party - but to put them on hold and keep their hopes up, that's like telling the Ugly Girl you'll dance with her when you hear a song that's "Just right for the two of you".

And that's just mean.

For twenty million dollars I'll steal the Stanley Cup and bring it to Vancouver.

So what's he waiting for? A better offer? Not even the Habs are dumb enough to try and offer him more money than that. He should get off his ass and reply already. Let the Hockey world move on.

Personally, I think that if he doesn't take it he's retarded - but he's been playing in Toronto for so long, I'm sure he's halfway there already.



Later.

This Tree Has Roots.

Tonight we are having a Barbeque at the 'ol Homestead.

Since The Twin is up with his spawnlings and I aslo have an Aunt or two that happen to be in twon, we are having a big get together - the last time this many of us were together was either when someone got married or someone died.

This post is short then, because as Man of The House I must be at my station in front of the Barbeque, making sure the dogs are grilled and we don't accidently roast a toddler.

They taste good with Ketchup, right?


Later.

Pineapple Tidbits.

The Sidekick and I saw the trailer for this when we went to see Hellboy 2.

As much as I enjoyed that movie, I was more thrilled about getting the chance to see this picture when it comes out.

It looks funny yet it also seems to be much more than your typical stoner movie. And hey, it's got Seth Rogan in it - I have to give it a chance.

Judging by the trailer, this might be good enough to make me forget about the last time I had to see James Franco on screen. (shudder)

Oh hell, I might as well post the trailer too:



See what I mean? That shit's going to be good. "Smells like God's vagina" is the greatest saying I've ever heard.




Later.