Man of Many Marinades.

With the summer season in full swing, I've gone to almost exclusively cooking outdoors every chance I get.

I'm a huge fan of marinades, and use them as much as I can. I like to prepare stuff in advance, so being able to whip together a marinade for whatever's hitting the grill the next night is a bonus. I've also found that having the meat sit in the marinade overnight in the chill-chest helps tenderize and add even more flavor throughout.

Do I follow a recipe? Not really - I treat marinades like I treat sex - some experimentation, throw in whatever you can, mix it up, and always check for flavor. Although I do use some standard ingredients, I can vary some of the complimentary flavors depending if I want heat or sweetness - or just go with ones that accentuate the flavor of whatever we're having.

Just typing that made me hungry - and it's almost time to fire up the grill..Mmmm


Later.

Moment of Zen.

Sometimes when I run, I use the time to sort things out in my head: thoughts, things I have to do, why yellow cars piss me off so much - you know, everyday bullshit.

But lately, my mind just goes blank - total nothing. All I hear is the sound of my breathing and my feet hitting the ground. I look at what's around me, but I don't think of anything pass that.

It's almost refreshing, but also disconcerting - I don't want to be a running zombie, shuffling my ass along the road - I liked being able to organize and catalog my thoughts. Made the run seem a bit more productive.

I think I'll make a mental note to try and multitask - focus on running and thinking at the same time. (I can walk and chew gum, so why not, eh?)

My only fear is that maybe I'm just about to reach Enlightenment - do I really want to miss out on that?

Whatever - I'll work it out as I run.



Later.

Literary Impact

David Eddings has died.

I first came across David's work when I was 13 years old. A friend of mine was reading Pawn of Prophecy and couldn't put it down. After I borrowed the book from him, I voraciously tracked down the rest of the books in the series.

I've read almost everything that David and his wife, Leigh, put out. Something about the way the characters interacted in all of their novels made them a very easy, enjoyable read. Curling up with The Belgariad, The Malloreon, The Elenium, and The Tamuli became something I did once or twice a year. If I could find nothing else new or exciting to read, I could always depend on Eddings.

During the last move, when I culled through all my books, discarding and donating, I never hesitated to keep any of David's books. I put them on the top shelf of my Fantasy section - right beside Tolkien. (And I think J.R.R. would understand.)

Mr. Eddings will be missed.
But his work will live on - I know, because I'm saving my copies for my boys to read.



Later.

Twitterpatied

If you'll look to your right, you'll notice that I've recently started using Twitter, and stuck it in my blog.

Yes, it's a blatant ripoff from another blog I read. (Didn't someone say imitation is the highest form of flattery?)

With the new phone making texting easier, I thought I'd give it a go. There was no point in doing it before - I'd waste so much time on each entry on my ol'school phone that I'd be doing nothing but typing about how sore my thumbs are.

I think Twitter is better suited to my style of humor. I'm all about the quick line and ready quip. If the Sidekick and I could link Twitter accounts, you know there would be some wicked witty banter going on - the Internet would fall before the onslaught of Kevin Smith quotes.

(Sad, really.)

So if you do check back and I haven't posted, look over there - I just might have something Twitty to say.



Later.

The Heat is On.

Holy Shit - it was hot today.

I don't care what the thermometers said, it was broiling. I deal better with the heat now - all the running last summer made me appreciate it a lot more, and this year I've gone from fat and pasty to slim(mer) and light brown.

Today I did something I never would have done years ago to beat the heat - I went to the lake.

Now before you start thinking about Frankie & Annette, I did bring the kids with me, so it was a family type day.

We had a blast. The kids played at the edge of the water, we threw rocks, and Daddy got to enjoy the beautiful scenery that surrounds the lake in the summer. A great time was had by all. I wasn't sure how the kids would handle the heat, but the only time they even kicked up a fuss was when we had to leave.

They want to go back tomorrow - I'm hoping we'll be able to. (First I have to do all the yardwork and shit, and then we can go play.)

Here's to not sitting in the house in front of the fan - summer fucking rocks.



Later.

Change Up.

There are 2 things I like to have with me when I run:

1. Music - Not always critical, but nice to have.
2. Phone - When you are doing 10+ miles on back roads or wherever, it's nice to have in case I have trouble or am needed.

My problem is I don't like to carry both.

Don't even mention a pack or belt - hate running with those, so they are out of the question completely.

Thus I feel my only solution is a phone that combines the two. As much as I would love an iPhone, it's just not possible - both to buy the phone and to pay for the data usage I know I would accumulate. I'm also on Telus Prepaid, so my selection is fairly limited.

I've decided to go with the Samsung Slyde that Telus offers - it's got an mp3 player, camera, and 1400 other features my current phone doesn't have. I also like that I can put whatever size microSD card in there to hold whatever music I want. I looked at the other phone they have and it just didn't grab my attention. Plus, a guy at work has this phone, and I helped him set it up, so I know how to use it. (Okay, I haven't sold you on the phone, but I've sold myself, and that's what counts.)

I'm going to go get it tomorrow - turns out London Drugs is having a sale on them, and I can get it for $40 dollars cheaper than at the Telus Mobility store.

Change is good.

Shiny, tech-y change is better.




Later.

Request.

Dear Homeless Man on the Seawalk:

For the love of God, please put a shirt on. I know it's summer, and the weather's gorgeous, but you have to think of other people at a time like this. For me to come around the corner by the park and be confronted with your fat blubbery man-tits splayed out for everyone to see not only made me gag uncontrollably, but I almost stumbled and fell - which would have prematurely ended my run.

Now I'm just assuming that by your disheveled, ragged appearance that you are homeless - If you are the fine owner of one of the oceanside mansions that dot the area, I would just ask that you step inside and fetch a shirt, or maybe have your butler do it. If that wasn't the case, maybe you could dig something out of that shopping cart full of shit you were leaning against.

As an aside, I just like to say that you must be the most resourceful homeless guy I've ever seen - most people with addictions such as yours are skinny and malnourished - for you to be as . . rotund as you are only hints at your ability to procure food. I wish you could have conjured up a shirt and maybe some deodorant, but I guess they aren't as high on your priority list as beer and whatever you get out of the dumpster.

If you get a chance, dig in the one behind Canadian Tire - maybe they threw out a tarp or something you could use. It just might have the coverage you need.



Later.

37

1. Atomic Number for Rubidium - 37
   
2. "Normal" Human Body Tempurature - 37° C
3. Holes in the mouthpiece of a rotary phone - 37
4. Number of times Elaine slept with Jerry on Seinfeld - 37
5. Number of plays Shakespeare wrote - 37
6. Seconds it took the Hindenburg to burn - 37
7. Height of the "Green Monster" at Fenway Park, in feet - 37
8. Number of Miracles in the Bible - 37
9. Dicks that Dante's girlfriend has sucked, including him - 37
10. First irregular prime number - 37
11. Characters available for use in personalized license plates - 37
12. Vertebrate in the tail of a Tyrannosaurus Rex - 37
13. Miles equal to 59.5 kilometers - 37
14. Numbers on a French Roulette Wheel - 37
15. Skeletal muscles used to move the Human hand - 37
16. Percentage of men that fantasize about their coworkers - 37
17. Points in a perfect bridge hand - 37
18. Cast members in "Les Mis" - 37
19. Weeks "Thriller" was #1 on the Billboard charts - 37
20. Elephants Hannibal had with him on his conquest of Rome - 37
21. Number of times Monica Lewinsky was cleared to enter the White House after she stopped working there - 37 (wink, wink)
22. Seconds from sighting of iceberg to collision with Titanic - 37
23. Yards in first touchdown pass in Super Bowl history - 37
24. Genes in the Mitochondrial Chromosome - 37
25. Percentage of an AMC Pacer that is glass - 37
26. Alphabetically, where the Casanovas are in my Zune artist listings - 37th
27. Twitter's rank on Alexa's Top 500 sites (as of today) - 37
28. Black Eyed Peas ranking on Amazon's Bestsellers in Music - 37
29. Year Nero (Roman emperor, not Star Trek villain) was born, AD - 37
30. Number of unidentified radio signals received from space - 37
31. Number of the Dease Lake Highway in northern B.C. - 37
32. How many times I stared at Google while typing this out - 37
33. Number of angels dancing on the head of a pin, at any given time - 37
34. Pounds of spices in the World's Largest Meatloaf - 37
35. Tracks in a collection of Beethoven's Symphonies -37
36. Number of minutes it takes, at minimum wage, to earn enough to by a Big Mac - 37
37. Years since I was born - 37

Yep - it's my Birthday today.
Punch and Pie, people - Punch and Pie.



Later.

Buck MotherFucking Rogers.

What's one of the greatest birthday gifts a guy from my generation could get?

(Unless you guessed the A-Team Van or the General Lee, you'd have to pick this.)

Buck Motherfucking Rogers.

You see, of the fabled geeky tv shows from my childhood, two of them stand out from the fog of memory. Battlestar Gallactica was one, and Buck Rogers was the other.

After Star Wars came and blew our minds in 1977, there had to be something to fill the void that was left until George Lucas stopped counting money and decided to make a sequel.

Buck Rogers filled the void.

I was at that age where I was old enough to appreciate Buck's stranger-in-a-strange-land quandary, and yet still naive enough to wonder why Colonel Wilma Deering made me feel funny in my pants.

The show had everything: humor, action, a hinted at sexual tension between Wilma and Buck, and a fucking robot that walked around carrying another robot like Flava Flav wears a clock. (The fact is, I think Flava owes Twiggy & Dr. Theopolis a shout out for the inspiration.) Combine that with different hostile alien races and exptic worlds, and it was enough to keep me sitting four inches from the T.V for a hour once a week.

Big props to The Sidekick for picking this gem up for me for my Birthday - even bigger props for giving it to me early as he won't be here on the fabled day.

I can't wait to sit down and watch my childhood appear again before my eyes in all it's chessy glory. What I can wait for is the uncomfortable dream of a three-way with Deering and Twiggy I know is going to happen.



Later.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder.

Holy shit - I've really let this place go.

For it to be the 23rd and I've only done 7 posts? It's almost like I've developed blogging habits similar to the Sidekick's. I better pick up my socks.

My reasons for not posting aren't that hard to understand - life tends to catch up to you every once in a while, and certain things tend to fall by the wayside. I have to admit, when I look at spending my time, lately I've chosen going for a run or to the gym over blogging.

And notice my mention of the Sidekick - he's yet another reason for my lack of online activity. Picking his sorry ass up from the ferry at 12:45am and then driving an hour and a half back home, combined with the beers until 1am the next night and poker until midnight on the third evening, made for a span of days where I barely glanced at a monitor - and I'm happier for it.

(Memo to Sidekick: Rickard's White? Excellent beer. The amount we drank that night? Not so good. But fuck it - I had a blast.)

But everything in life is cyclical, isn't it? So no worry, my friends - soon will be the days of multiposts and rambling stories - as soon as I sit my ass down.


Later.

Curse The Radio.

I curse public radio.

I curse the radio in general, be it at the gym, the car, or at work.

Why?

Because it got this song stuck in my head. The Fucking Jonas Brothers






And that's just unfair.
Catchy, lighthearted pop, but unfair nonetheless.

Now I have to scrub my brain with some hardcore Death Metal. (That's the audio equivalent of an SOS pad, right?)


Later.

The One Test You Can't Study For..

Tonight at work, I sold a 17 yr old boy a home Pregnancy Test.

He was nervous, wild-eyed and visibly shaken.

As I handed him the bag with his receipt, I said "Hope it works out for you, brother."

The "Uh-huh" and blank stare I got back told me everything I needed to know about his hoped-for results.

Tough break.


Should have sold him a box of condoms, just so he won't have to be back again.



Later.

Stand Alone Dad.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

I Feel:

1. That swallowing a bug while you're running, albeit a fine way of ingesting protein, isn't a pleasurable experience anytime.
2. That when I decide, on a hot and sunny day, to run a winding 5-mile loop on lonely roads instead of on the Seawalk full of women in their summer best, I'll need help.
3. That I need help.
4. That the worst thing in the world isn't being at work on a gorgeous, sunny day - it's all the fucking people coming in, telling you exactly how awesome it is outside.
5. That it's a bad thing that I thought that Bea Arthur and Dom De Luise were already dead, and thus was doubly shocked to hear of their deaths.
6. That Star Trek was a fucking awesome movie. And that's not just my inner geek nerd-gasming, either.
7. That having the lady walking behind me jokingly grab my ass as we're leaving the theater was a little bit disconcerting.
8. That I can understand her desire to do so. I'll admit, for a guy, I've got a great ass.
9. That watching playoff hockey when your team isn't involved is like having sex in a raincoat.
10. That, yeah - that didn't make sense to me either.

Later.

Youth and Young Manhood.

Happy Birthday, Sidekick - you beautiful son of a bitch.

Now before you go wondering why I would call my best friend by such foul terms, let me tell you that I have only the utmost regard for the man. He is, after all, the Hetro-Lifemate.

The reasons I call him beautiful are as follows:

• He's not completely fugly. There are women out there who find him attractive and charming. (Go figure.)
• He's got the soul of a saint, the heart of a poet, and the penis of a miniature schnauzer. (I'm calling the last one by what I heard through the grapevine. I have no first hand knowledge of this.)
• He's been my rock, my backup, my confidant, and my moral compass.
• He just received tickets to the Kings of Leon concert in Vancouver and asked me to go.

Oh yeah.

Lets look at that last one for just a second. Savor it, soak it in.

(Pause)

The Fucking Kings of Leon! Sweet Mary Mother of God and All that is Holy - The Kings of Leon.
For me, right now in my musical evolution, this is one of the top 3 bands I would Give My Left Nut to see. (Please note that the Sidekick did not ask for said nut, nor did he make any mention of my nuts as a form of currency.)

Thank God he gave me 3 months warning - now I can make sure I have the time off, the cash, and build up my stamina for the event.

Hold on a sec - I have to wait three months to go to this concert? Every day is going to be like molasses, endlessly dragging on until the day of the show.

Curse you, Sidekick - for giving me the musical equivalent of Blue Balls - I can go, but I have to wait for it. I'll have a stereophonic hard-on for the next 98 days.

God, my Zune is going to take a pounding.


Thank you, Sidekick - even with the wait, I still think you're one beautiful, glorious bastard.


Happy Birthday.




Later.

Swineful Behavior.

No, this isn't about swine flu - it's about me being a pig.

Sure, I got up and went to the gym today. Lifted weights, ran for a half hour, tanned - but then six hours later, I blow it all.

For some strange reason, I just demolished:

• A Peanut Butter sandwich
  
• Two sticks of pepperoni
• Chocolate Muffin
• Glass of Chocolate Milk

And that was after my lunch and hour ago - in which I had a healthy, fulfilling sandwich. (Mmm Turkey.) I think I know the culprit: boredom.

It's not that I'm bored, really - I'm hanging with my two Boys, so nothing is really boring. It's just that with the rain and wind we're inside - and even playing with them, there's some downtime, and they eat some snacks, and there's all this shitty food laying around, so...

I do it to myself.

It's easier when I can take them out and do something with them - it keeps me busy as well, and not being around all the shitty food is a plus.

But now I'm feeling guilty, and have already begun to plan my "revenge" workout for tomorrow in my head.

Yes, I know - I need help.

Don't worry about the binging - it's when I start purging that you can call in the shrinks...



Later.

Disco to Disco, Round 2.

Today was a glorious day to run.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, yadda yadda yadda, I decided to repeat one of the runs I did last year: Disco to Disco. I haven't ran it in 6 months, so why not, eh?

I actually added on about a half mile - I started from my house instead of WP Disco, so the distance to OR Disco was actually 9.77 miles - but what does it matter, right?

Even with the extra distance, I improved on my time from last year - I did the 9.77 miles in 1:14:00 as opposed to the 1:21:00 I did last year. It may not seem like much, but believe me - in running, seven minutes is a long fucking time.

And next to almost being clipped by some bastard trying to pass three cars at once by the Driftwood, it was a great run - no issues, legs felt good, and I even had energy left to bullshit with the guys at the store until my ride came and got me.

I think I won't wait another six months to do it again, though - as the summer progresses, I could see this being something I do probably every two weeks - with my goal being to run there and back (19.54 miles) before I do my half marathon in October.

That'll be a post worth blogging about.



Later.

Defeetist Attitude.

I'm at a loss for what to put on my feet.

You see, for years I only had two pairs of shoes: The ones I wore to work, and some sneakers I wore with everything else. No sandals or flip-flops for me - I wouldn't wear shorts unless I had to, so my summertime footwear was the same as my wintertime stuff.

But it's all changed now.

Since I started the whole gym/running thing, I've really become accustomed to wearing shorts. I'll wear shorts all day long now - if you'd let me. (With legs like mine, why not show them off?) I'm even hoping I can get away with shorts on a casual day at work - so you can see how the insanity has spread.

But when wearing "dressier" shorts, instead of gym ones, I realize that my choice of footwear really is - for lack of a better word - shitty. Scuffed sneakers just don't jive with the kakhi shorts.

So I'm looking to upgrade, and there's 3 ways I think I can go:

• The Boat Shoe: Looks good, comfortable, and classy. I actually used to wear this with jeans and a popped-collar polo shirt circa '87... which kinda scares me now.
• Flip Flops: I'd like to try flip flops, I really would - but my only problems are 1) I hate having something shoved in between my toes, and 2) can you run after a 3yr old in flip flops?
• Mocs: I like the look of these, and I've heard they are comfortable. But would they look good in shorts? And if I'm not wearing socks, would everything just get funky?

I'm at a crossroads in my decision making process. I'm not in a hurry - I've looked like a shlub for so long I don't think a couple of weeks more will make a difference - but I do want something I can break in and use before summer's over.

Please don't say Crocs - they are the most retarded thing to hit peoples feet in years. I don't care how comfortable they may be - I think they're stupid.


Help me, Internet - you're my only hope.




Later.

I Feel:

1. That nothing beats running outside. The gym is nice; but the sun in the sky, the wind in your face, and women honking as they drive by just can't be beat.
2. That with the gym and the tanning, I'm never gonna get tired of hearing "Hey, you look skinny and dark now."
3. That with 28 days until my 37th birthday, it's ironic that I'm in better shape than when I was 26.
4. That as shameful as it is to admit, watching Boomer Phillips on Video on Trial can sometimes be the comedic highlight of my day.
5. That the Sidekick being so far away kinda sucks - not having a go-to coffee buddy really blows. (And I'm not just saying that 'cause he sent me an uber-gay text message.)
6. That with the pathetic performance by my Avalanche this year, the Sidekick's going to get He's Just Not That Into You and The Princess Bride as his DVD rewards. (Hey - the bet was two DVDs, not which two DVDs. Hahahaha.)
7. That being insanely jealous of everyone I see who has a new cellphone isn't really bad - it just means that I'll have to deliberately break my piece of shit phone (opps!) to get a new one.
   
8. That playing in the park with the kids, as fun as it is, can be both the most uplifting and yet most aggravating experience of a lifetime.
   
9. That as soon as I cross 1000 miles, I'm getting this shirt. Seeing as I'm only 330 miles away, I should have it by August for sure.
10. That once again, I leave you hanging with number 10.....

Later.

The Most Disgusting Thing in The World.

I don't mind dealing with the general public at work - but there's one thing they do that disgusts me more than anything else, and it involves tissue.

(Don't even think it - I'm not going in the direction you're thinking.)

For some reason, as I'm walking about doing my job, I always seem to find some tissue that someone has inadvertently dropped on the floor. (At least I hope it's by accident - if they're doing it on purpose it'll piss me off.)

I'm always loathe to pick it up.

I know it's probably nothing - just fell out of some old ladies pocket - but I still cringe when I pick it up.

How do I know what's in there? Could be snot, mucus, blood - could be the tears of a sainted angel for all I know - but the act of reaching out and picking it up off the floor is enough to gag me.

It's just awful.

I think I'll start to carry one of those metal hot-dog sticks around - that way I can just stab the tissue, and not even have to have it come near me. I think that would work.

Or I could just ignore it and keep on walking - that's what everyone else does.



Later.

Watch Out, Gary Carter...

There's a new kid in town.

That's The Boy and I at his T-Ball game. He's really liking it so far, and his favorite position is catcher. (Why a catcher in a t-ball game? Someone has to put the ball on the tee, and this is better than him laying down in right field and not paying attention.)

He's has 4 hits, one run, and one outfield catch. He's all over this game as oppossed to Soccer, where he ran around for 45 minutes and didn't feel like he accomplished anything. (It might have something to do with the T-Ball championship I won at his age - must be in the blood.)

The thing I like the most is that the games are Monday and Wednesday evenings - so I , a guy who works most weekends, can actually go. It's even been suggested that I help coach, (I dare say I'd be better than the sham of a coach that they have now.) but we'll take it one step at a time.

I know that most of you probably looked at the title and went "Gary Carter? Wasn't he Arnold on Different Strokes?". And you'd be wrong, 'cause that's Gary Coleman - Gary Carter was the only cool batcatcher to play for a Canadian team when I was growing up.

At least until my boy hits the Majors.....




Later.

Bubblicious.

Tip #1: Never look at yourself in the mirror while running on the treadmill. (Side profile)
Tip #2: If you do look, don't look at your ass.


Cold and Dreary - that means the treadmill. As I zoned out and lost my mind to the rhythm of the music and the pounding of my legs, I happened to glance around the gym, as I am wont to do.

Big mistake.

I was on a different treadmill than my usual one, and as my regular unit isn't in the line of sight of any of the mirrors, I never pay any attention to them. But My Baby's being used by someone else, so I'm on a treadmill next to the mirrored wall. I happen to glance downward - looking at my feet, for some reason. (I forget why.)

The first thing I notice is that - damn! - My legs are nice! Then I happen to glance up...

What the Fuck is That?

You see, I was always told I had no ass. As a fat guy with no ass, I just assumed that there was a straight line from my shoulders to my ankles. But I guess all the running changed more than just my frontal appearance.

...I should have realized it, too - running is mainly the work of your quads, glutes and hamstrings - quads lift the leg up and forward, but the propulsion power comes from the back of your legs and your ass.

I knew this. And appreciated it too - I've seen women runners in spandex, remember? I just never thought it would affect me.

I have a Bubble Ass.

I guess it's not a bad thing, as it's not a jiggly Bubble Ass, but still, since I've seen it I'm a little self conscious of people looking back there.

I think I'm going to need to get some new, baggier shorts - just so I don't feel funny while I'm running. It makes me think that all those comments about "looking good" I get when I'm running on the Seawalk weren't about my running posture and form...

Oh God - I feel so dirty...




Later.

Guilty Conscience

When it's cold, I don't like to run in the rain.

It seems that whenever I run when it's either really cold or raining and cold, it's inevitable that I get a cold or congested chest afterwards.

Because of this, when ever it's too chilly or chilly & wet, I hit the treadmill to get my mileage in. There's no shame in it, and at least I'm staying active and healthy.

So why do I feel so guilty if I see someone else running in the rain?

Take today: it's raining and cold - which means I'm heading to the gym to hit the 'mill and bust out 6 or 7 miles. As I'm driving there, I notice at least 3 sets of people running along the side of the road- jackets zipped up and hats pulled low. I'm cozy in my car, headed to my nice dry gym, to do the exact same thing they are doing.

So why do I feel like less of a runner?

Does not wanting to brave the elements make the distance that I run less?
Does not running against the wind and rain mean that I'm not really running?
Does it make me a pussy?

I know that in the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal - both of us are better than the guy who never gets off the couch - but for some reason it bothers me. Like they're snickering at me as they run.."Look at the pansy in his truck, going to run on the spot in a room!"


I'm not a pansy - I'm a runner.
I just get a little stuffed up is all...




Later.

Herd Mentality.

Please take the time to watch the following Video and then ask yourself one question:




Don't you think it's ironic that at a party that's "Celebrating Originality", everyone is wearing the same brand of clothes?

Did the guys at the marketing meeting not somehow see this?

And would I have been ostracized if I showed up wearing my Reebok's?
(They are pretty sweet shoes, yo.)


Later.

It's That Time Again...

Time for me to bitch about being fucked over by Tim Horton's.

It's getting pathetic. The last couple of times they did the "Roll Up the Rim" promotion, I just bitched about only winning the occasional coffee or donut. I think they must have heard my complaining, because this time around, I haven't won a fucking thing.

No Coffee.
No Donut.
Nothing.

How fucking discouraging is that?

I know I'm not their best customer anymore, but c'mon, don't they even want to try and lure me back? It's not like I won't eat a donut - especially if it's free.

It makes me want to never go there again, and just drink Skinny Chai Tea Lattes all day. (Except for the fact that they're $4 a pop and sound kinda gay.)

Fuckin' Tim Horton's.
Buncha meanies, that's what they are.




Later.

Holiday, Shmaliday.

After enjoying Turkey with all the trimmings post-late shift last night, I was looking forward to hitting the gym this morning. (Yes, I'm the sad type of person who looks forward to punishing their body physically.) Something about eating that much that late at night makes me crave the workout - like if I give the fat molecules any extra time to stay in my body, they'll never leave.

I had even planned on having a tan - with lotion!

I got up at my usual time, (5am) and headed off to the gym. It's never a shock to be the only car in the parking lot - when you go as early as I do, sometimes you're the only car there. But after 5 minutes, when none of the other regular's cars were showing up in the parking lot, I decided to go and see what was going on...

Closed.

Not reduced hours, not opening later - closed for the whole day.
(For Easter Monday? Really? We close a business for a Zombie Holiday?)


Fuck.

I'm awake already, so I don't want to go back to sleep. It's too cold at this time of the morning to run outside, so I'm at a loss as to what to do.

So I go home, make some coffee, and read until the sun comes up.

As much as I enjoyed the quiet time, I really wanted to get a workout in. I'll go for a run later, but nothing beats that 5:30am sweat - makes every calorie I consume later on feel guilt-free.

Goddamn Catholics and their fucking holidays - (right, Sidekick?) ruining my routine...




Later.

Step Up.

There's been a bit of a shuffle at work.

Our Head/General Manager has quit, and that means that things are going to change fairly quickly. I don't think it's a bad thing, as it only looks good for me.
More money, better environment, and an opportunity for advancement.

You see, I'm in the favored group for the "regime change" as we've come to call it at work. I'm still doing the same job, but my opinions count a lot more with the new leadership. In fact, after it was announced that my old Boss was leaving, I had three phone calls (happened on my day off) telling me that I shouldn't worry and I'll be looked after.

After the corporate mess and double talk (except from the Sidekick) at the last job, it's a good thing to hear.

I'm already enjoying the change - I've been working the last two days and already I can see how the pressure's going to be and where I'm going to fit in. More responsibility, sure, but also more perks and more input into the operation of the "Big Picture" - and isn't that what we all want to be - part of the Big Picture?

There may be some growing pains, as we're moving people around from other locations and forming a mix of people that haven't ever worked together before, but it shouldn't be that bad - I'm optimistic about the whole thing.


(Please don't quote this post if I'm bitching about work in three weeks time.)


Change is good.
Let's keep it that way.




Later.

Enlightening Experience.

I am a bronzed God.

Not really; I'm still the pasty-white guy you all know and love - but I am a wee bit darker today.

I had my first fake-n-bake experience today.

I won a punch-pass for tanning as part of my Biggest Loser prize package. Since my normal skin tone is translucent, I figured I'd give the booth a try. I did tan a bit last year, due to all the running I did outside, and since I expect my mileage to go up this summer, I think a base coat is a must-have. So with some trepidation this morning, I stepped up and hit the bed.

It's an odd feeling for someone who's never seen the inside of a booth - it was like standing in a vertical coffin, naked, and then suddenly the eyes of God are upon you. For the first minute I kept my eyes closed, for fear of having my retinas singed. (Did I mention that I didn't get a very through walkthrough on this machine?) But eventually I did open them, and found that it's like playing with a blacklight when you were a teenager - the only difference being that my grey chest hairs didn't stand out quite so much as a teenager. (God, I'm old.)

I did find it oddly refreshing, which makes sense if you figure I compressed a half-day's sun into less than 10 minutes. All that melatonin coursing through your system has to make you feel a bit giddy.

I do have nine more times inside this thing, so hopefully at the end of it I come out looking ready for outdoor fun, and not like some orangeish-leathery-freak.


See you in the booth - next time: Lotions!!




Later.

Mourning My Mornings.

Usually my mornings go like this:

• 5am - Wake up, get dressed, go to gym.
• 6:45am - Leave gym, head home. Have coffee, check email, and relax before anyone's awake at -
• 7:15am Get kids up, get them ready, take Boy to school by 8:15, go to work.

But due to the fact that it's Spring Break for the Boy right now and we don't even have them 'cause they are staying at their Uncle's for three days and I'm working late shift three days in a row, my morning looks like this:

• 7am - Wake up, get dressed for the gym, wait for Wife to get ready for work.
• 8:15am - Drop Wife off at work, go to gym.
• 9:30am - Leave gym, go home and have coffee, eat etc.

My routine's all fucked up.

I don't mind the sleeping in, but the main thing I miss is the morning group at the gym and my quiet time by myself in the early morning.

Going to the gym with the later crowd is different - in the morning group, we're all fairly dedicated people, who realize that we are there that early for a reason: to work out and get on with our day. The people who go to the gym at 8:30 , for the most part, don't have jobs to go to - they are retired or just to old to work.

So a lot of talking happens with that crowd.

I'm not anti-social - far from it - but I don't go to the gym to socialize, so leave me the fuck alone and quit chattering to me. I swear to God I could have slapped three people today for nattering away at me.

I also miss the quietness of the house at 6:45am - nobody's up, the place is my own, and the day has yet to begin. It just isn't the same at 9:30 in the morning.


It'll all go back to normal soon - the kids are coming back tomorrow night - and once I'm done with the late shifts, my routine can settle once again.

And I'll never let it go.




Later.

1:08:54

See that up there?

That's my finish time for the Merville 15K.

I think I did great. I had fun, it was easier than I thought, and I left it all on the road - I ran the best I could and exceeded my expectations.

I ran almost 30 secs/mile faster over this race than I did at my last one, two weeks ago. My average mile was 7:24, which works out to a 4:36 Km. If I keep going at this rate, I'll be in the money in no time.

I placed tenth in my age group, which is an accomplishment, and came in 97th out of 348. Not bad numbers for a former Fat Bastard. (Now just a Bastard.)

The strangest thing was that during the race, at the 9K mark, me and another guy were having a conversation. If you would have told me a year ago that I would be talking to someone as I ran a distance race and still place well, I would have told you that you were nuts. (Who has time to talk when you can't even breathe?) But there I was, talking running (albeit in a slightly labored tone) as we crossed the kilometer marker. We even had a chuckle about that.

As much as I like running, I'm starting to get addicted to these races. It's so invigorating to have the competition, camaraderie, and to just be out.

I've found my new drug.


God help us all.




Later.

Excuses.

Reasons why I haven't blogged lately:

1. I'm lazy.
2. I have absolutely nothing interesting to say, unless you want to hear about Running or Dairy Products.
3. I watched Quantum of Solace last night, and after seeing James Bond kill everybody who even remotely wronged him, my rant didn't seem that important.
4. I was busy carb-loading for my 15K race tomorrow.
5. For some reason, clean clothes and dishes won out over blogging, so I did laundry and housework instead.
6. My kids won't leave me alone. They demand constant attention, and since I'm the greatest Dad in the world, I oblige.
7. When I do have a half-hour to myself, I "relieve stress" - otherwise the world would be an unhappy place.
8. I do have a job, you know - and it's not blogging. (Although it should be, I think I'd like that.)
9. The sun was shining.
10. After staring at the monitor for 15 minutes, I drew a complete blank.

I know they aren't good excuses, but there they are.

I will get back to something regular, I promise; after this race and once everything else (drama) settles down, I'll be back on track and regular updates of pointless observations and my bitching will continue.




Later.

Fool of April.

April Fools is the only Holiday on the Calender that you really outgrow.

No matter what your age, you still acknowledge Christmas, St Patrick's and even Valentine's Day. But April Fool's? That's the one you leave behind.

There's something about pranking other people that just doesn't translate well to the age I'm at now. I think as I matured, I grew to understand that Saran Wrapping a toilet bowl may seem hilariously funny, but it's also a huge, disgusting mess. Yes, Son, that shit is funny - just not when it's on my floor.

Sure, there's always one guy who's still out greasing doorknobs and trying to fool those around him. But to me, it seems like they're just tolerated now, not revered like they were when I was 9.

There were no pranks pulled in my life today.


And I don't really feel bad about that.


Shit, I'm getting old.




Later.

I Want To Be A Coyote...

At least for their home games.

I've been to lots of Vancouver Canucks games. Not on my own dime, mind you - there's no way I could afford that - and I've never thought twice about what the tickets cost. I know they're expensive, it's Hockey, right? Hockey's expensive everywhere.

Not so.

As I read in the Province the other day, Hockey games in Phoenix are amazingly cheap. So amazing that I found it hard to believe. (I even went and double checked the Coyotes website for verification.)

The last game I went to in Vancouver, the ticket cost $144.50. Factor in the 3 or 4 $9 beers I had, plus the $9.50 Hot Dog, and that's a very expensive evening for the company that took me too the game. (Yay Sour Cream!)

As per the article and the Coyotes website, I could get seats for a family of 4 (lower bowl) for $166. With that comes free parking, free all-you-can-eat peanuts, hot dogs, popcorn, and pop. The last price I could find for beer was $5.

So for what it would cost for me to go to one game in Vancouver, you could take 4 friends to a game in Phoenix - or I could go to 4 games by myself, but I'm not that much of a loner.

I understand about supply and demand, and that's what drives the prices to be the way they are.

But I just wanted to say it sucks.






Later.

Of All The Songs In All The World...

This retard has to cover "Africa" by Toto?

I know it's been out for over a year, but this song is getting a lot of airplay at the local radio station, which means I hear it at least 4 times a day at work. It's not that it's horrible, it's just that it's ..Toto.





The worst part with the song is that it gets stuck in your head - over and over and over again. And the last thing I want in my head is Toto - they weren't there in the Eighties, and they certainly don't belong there now.




Later.

I Feel...

1. That I'm a glutton for punishment - I just signed up for a 15K run next Sunday in Merville. I must like running in these areas that reek like cowshit.
2. That between kids, work, wife, and life - I just don't get to drink as much as I used to.
3. That I have a longing to pee on a tree in Oshawa. What does that say about me?
4. That listening to the music that's played in the Gym is starting to get to me. When I can sing along to "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga - it's time to give up and charge up the Zune.
5. That the tougher the economy gets, the more people bitch about the price of Kraft Dinner.
6. That coordinating my schedule with the Sidekick's is a lot like aligning the planets - when it does happen, it'll be a celestial event you'll read about later.
7. That I've said "There's always next year." Way too much when referring to my Colorado Avalanche.
8. That when the people around you get new cell phones - even if they aren't iPhones or Blackberrys - your own just seems to look like a brick of shit in your hand.
9. That if I told the Sidekick what was playing in Winamp as I type this, he'd have a apocalyptic fit and disown me forever. (And yet, still better than The Hip.)
10. That if I ever did an "I Feel" list with 10 complete thoughts, it'd be a miracle - 'cause I usually cop out and type something like this shit right here.

Later.

Clerical Error.

Due to statistical misinformation, I reported an erroneous time for the completion of my Half Marathon.

The stats are in, double checked and posted - My time of 1:44:55 does not stand.

I did it in 1:43:11, bitches!

Sure, a minute and forty-four seconds may not seem like much, but trust me - it is. By the time a minute and forty-four seconds rolled around after the race, I was sucking back water and trying not to throw up - see what can happen in such a short span of time?

I checked the online results today:

• I placed 211th out of 547 - in the top 40%.
• My average pace was 7:52/mile - 4:53/Km.
• I was 28th out of 39 for my age group. Not great, but 6 of the first 14 finishers were from my group - M35-39. So I think that's good.

I'm quite pleased.

(Like I wasn't fucking ecstatic before, right?)





Later.

In Between Goals.

I'm kinda lost.

Having finished my Half Marathon and winning the weight loss contest I was in, I'm all out of goals. I know, I know - most intelligent people would have planned for what they were going to do after achieving their goals, but if you've been reading this blog for any amount of time, you'll understand I don't really operate that way.

So what is it that I want to do?

My next big run is in October, so the training for that is out - but I think I'll keep doing the mileage - I don't want to stop that. Running 20-25 miles a week should keep me where I want to be.

I do still have that last 6 pounds to go, and I did get all this weight loss stuff in my prize package, so - I think with a slight change in my weight routine, I'll be pretty good to go. Maybe I can get my BF% down to 16-17%.

I think this year, I'm going to get a tan. I have the fake 'n bake passes, (yet another prize) and with running outside when it gets warmer, maybe nature can help with the rest. It would be nice not to be translucent for at least one summer.


Well look at that - I've got some goals.

Thanks, Internet - what would I do without you?




Later.

One Year Later.

It's amazing the difference a year can make.

Last year, on this very day, I blogged about how good it felt to run on the treadmill at my gym. I brag about running my first 5K on the thing, and sound amazed that my time was a 9:03 minute mile.

I then go on to say that the gym was going to be closed the next day, and I was going to try running outside.

And now, one year later exactly, I finish my first Half Marathon with a time of 1:44:55. (I'll hold for the applause.) That's an average 8:00 mile.

12 months ago I struggled to run 5K - today I finished 21.1K. (Mind you, the last 2K were hard.)
The sense of accomplishment I'm feeling is indescribable.

I'm hoping I can continue this trend - maybe next year I'll look at this post and say "1:44:55? What was I doing, walking?"



Later.

Shoes? Check. Zune? Check. Nerves? Double Check.

Tomorrow's my Half Marathon.

I'm nervous as hell.

This isn't a piddly 5K or 10K - this is what real runners run.

I've got my music, my Nike+, my shoes - heck, I've even got my running gear all laid out for tomorrow already.

Now I just have to wait.

I think the part that freaks me out is the fact that I've been talking about this race for the last 3 months, and yet it seemed like it just snuck up on me. All of a sudden, I'm racing tomorrow.

I have goals and expectations:

1. Finish the damn race.
2. Finish in under 2 hours.
3. Finish at around 1:50:00 if possible.
4. Get a shirt.
5. Try not to suck.

I'll let you know how it all pans out.



Later.

What To Wear...

Don't mind me - I'm just boring t-shirt guy.

What's that on my shirt? Oh yeah - nothing. All my t-shirts are blue or grey or black and have absolutely nothing interesting about them. (Except that they are tagless, which is nice, 'cause I hate how the tag can sometime irritate the back of my neck....but I digress)

I got the Sidekick a witty t-shirt for Xmas one year - I'm pretty sure it got him laid, but he'll never give me the credit for that one. I've never needed a shirt's help to accomplish the deed, but it would be reassuring to know I have backup.

I think I tried to wear a funny t-shirt once. I'm fuzzy on the details, but I don't recall it getting a lot of laughs. I think the sweater I was wearing overtop had something to do with it.

I 'm sure that I'm over the age of people who can successfully get away with wearing something witty splashed across their chest. I don't know where to go for guidelines on this, but I'm sure not going to listen to the girl down at Jeans Warehouse.

No matter what I have on my chest and back, just remember - I know when you're looking at my ass.




Later.

Winning By Losing.

So we got the results today from the "Flex Fitness Challenge" I was in, which wrapped up yesterday. (Why is it a fitness challenge? Because you'd get your ass sued off if you called it a Biggest Loser contest.)

I won - kinda.

There were three main winners: one for pounds lost, one for inches lost, and one for body fat % lost. Although I was close in the pounds lost, I missed it by 2 - I only lost 14 pounds as opposed to the 16 that took the title.

I wasn't even close in the inches lost department - as overall I lost only 4 inches - the gains in my legs and chest actually held me back in that category.

So, by process of elimination, you can see I won the body fat % part of the completion - I lost 5.7% body fat - putting me at 21%. That's still a bit higher than I'd like, but considering a year ago I was still at around 35-38% , that's a drastic improvement.

The sad part of it is with going on holidays, my brother coming up, hockey games, and just life in general, my diet sucked over the last 3 weeks. It would have been nice to see what I could have done if I had been faithful to the program.

And although I said I'd like to be at 170 to run my half-marathon, I don't think the extra 6 pounds will hold me back much. (Probably keep me warm if it's cold.)

Would I do it again? Maybe. I think the competition helps, but I was never in any direct competition with anyone - I think if we did group weigh-ins and had more interaction with the other competitors, it would ramp up the tension and everyone would push just a little more.

But whatever - I'm happy with the results. (I consider myself a work in progress anyway.)


See you at the gym.




Later.

Rumors of My Demise...

.. have been greatly exaggerated.

With the Twin's family up for the Nephew's Hockey tourney, the last couple of days have been really hectic - hence no blogging. Having two extra kids in a house the size of mine is enough to throw anything off kilter, and being able to coherently form thoughts wasn't part of the bargain.

But I can tell you some things I've learned:

• I miss the extra padding my lard ass used to have - sitting in the stands at the Arena would have been warmer and more pleasant with a few extra pounds of padding back there.
• Tim Horton's Roll Up The Rim is a piece of shit. I haven't won a damn thing since it started this time, and that's just not right for a guy that drinks as much as I do. When's my time Lord? When's my time?
• I am pretty much the greatest Rock Band vocalist ever. I may not sound good to me or anyone else, but that game thinks I'm fucking amazing. 96-100% on almost every song? God, I'm good.
• If the weather in Courtenay is as shitty next Sunday as it was in Campbell River today, I'm going to be one wet Half-Marathoner. The fact that it's less than a week away now kinda freaks me out.
• The more I see one, the more I want an iPhone.
• As much as I was dreading the weekend, tomorrow's going to be just as bad - I have to do my last long run (10+ miles) , weigh in for the final of the weight-loss contest I joined, and get the Boy to school on time - then my day can start. (It'll only be 8:30am then.)

I'm going to get some sleep - but don't worry, you'll hear from me.



Later.

Let's Go Yachting.

Sure, you'll be the 9,255,054th person to see this video, but you could be the first to do it from my blog. (That's something, isn't it?)

Anyway, I laughed my ass off.



I can just see myself off of Cape Mudge, cruising along with my Lucky and enjoying the high life. Ah, yes.....





Later.

Cheap Therapy.

There's something cathartic about driving 120mph and slamming into a wall. The crunch of metal, the way time slows down as bits and pieces of the car twirl though the air, sunlight sparkling on the shattered glass.

There's nothing more relaxing then careening your car through the city, tearing through a gate, up a ramp, through a billboard - only to come down onto the road a twisted heap of metal.

And all of this for only $20.

I've had the demo of Burnout:Paradise on my 360 since the day I bought it - it was on there already, with a slew of others for me to whet my Next-Gen appetite. As I deleted them one by one, I've always kept Burnout, even though it only had 1 car and 1/10th of the city to roam in, just because it was fun.

So when I saw the game at Wally World for $20, I had to pick it up. More cars, more room, more chilling gruesome accidents to experience from the comfort of my couch. There's nothing better to ease the frustration of a long day than madcap driving through city streets, pulling wicked e-brakes and doing those nifty backwards-spin-around-180-drive-away things like Knight Rider used to do when I was but a young lad.

It's cheaper than drinking.
It's cheaper than weed.
It's cheaper than professional help. (Take that as you will - Hookers or Shrinks, they're both a rip off.)


Best $20 I ever spent.



Later.

Work Sucks.

The first day back at work after holidays always sucks.

It's not about the job, or what you're doing, it's just that it's work.
You are being paid to be somewhere and do something in a place when you'd rather be somewhere else doing something different.

I think I'm going to have to step up my early retirement plans...

Anyone know where the nearest Lotto retailer is?



Later.

Skewed Readership.

One part of my blog that I really enjoy is seeing who's coming around to check out what I'm saying in my little corner of the Internet.

It's interesting to see that people from Korea, China, Uruguay, England, Scotland as well as my Canadian brethren are interested in some topic enough that they stumble upon my assorted rants and raves.

What's disturbing is how many are interested in this post.

Why is the subject of geriatric urine such a hot topic? Is it due to the rising senior population, or is it some twisted fetish? (The skeptic in me, who's been on the internet a while, is well aware that it could be the latter.) Whatever it is, I'm such an authority on it that I'm number 8 on Google China's results for "old men peeing".

Conflicted: Impressed that I'm ranked so high, yet disgusted at what they are looking for.

Good thing I don't write about anime porn.



Later.

Saturday at Wal-Mart.

If you want a soul-crushing experience, go to Wal-Mart.

As much as some may hate the Corporation itself, (much like The Arches) I find it's the people who shop there that depress me the most.

(I know that I'm including myself in the above group, but I like to think I'm a bit apart from them - I know I'm slumming, they haven't realized it yet.)

I understand why people shop at Wal-Mart - the prices. What I don't understand is why people act the way they do at Wal-Mart.

Today I witnessed people having no regard for the other customers in the store - blocking aisles, cutting lines, and just being generally ignorant to everyone around them. I saw more garbage from the McDonald's in the store spread around and lying in displays than I imagine I would have seen at the McD's, had I even gone in there. Watching people paw through merchandise like they were digging for gold - throwing it left and right - made the display-builder in me shudder.

I'm not sure what it is about Wal-Mart that brings out the worst in people - maybe they feel bad about shopping there, and take it out on the other people around them. Maybe they feel so insignificant in their own lives that they act rude and disrespectful to the only people they feel are beneath them - Wal-Mart employees. (We saw that a lot at The Arches - gas jockeys would talk shit to you because you're working the grill instead of their really cool job.)

If going to one place makes you become this ugly human being, why go there? To save 3 dollars?

As happy as I was with the purchases I made today, I left Wal-Mart feeling a little let down - not with Wal-Mart, but with the Human Race.

Shopping shouldn't make you sad.



Later.

My Inner Geek Just Jizzed In His Pants.

This movie is going to fucking rule.


(Oh God, I'm such a nerd.)





Later.

Fuck All Music Channels.

Fuck You, MTV.

Fuck You MTV2, Much Music, Much More Music, and any other music channels that I may have missed.

You used to be good for something. Something like, I dunno - music maybe?

There was a time, many moons ago, when I enjoyed having your channel on in the background - I'd hear the tunes I liked, see some outlandish shit that used to pass for videos in days gone by, and just once in a while, you'd show me something new.

I'd like to thank you for introducing me to the Foo Fighters and the Trews - I still remember the first time I saw "Big Me" and "Tired of Waiting".

But for everything else, you can suck my balls.

Why is it that the only time I ever see any actual music on your channel is when it's Video on Trial? How sad is that? I have to wait for a show with semi-funny comics and gay guys to see 45 second snippets of videos.

And to see that, I have to wade through seven hours of "I'm-a-D-list-celeb-who's-fat/addicted/drunk/socially awkward/train-wreck-who-wants-six-more-minutes-of-fame." Once you see Verne Troyer piss in a corner, you just don't want to see T.V. anymore.

How sad is it that I look enviously at a country music channel, just because they play music and not the same reality shit all the time? (By the way, that's the only time I ever look enviously at a country channel.)

Clean up your act, it's just depressing.

I've turned away from you now, to the digital stations on my cable box, and to HDNet concerts on Sundays. (I'm even willing to watch some MMA and movie trailer shows if it gets me repeat showings of Skin & Bones.) You may lure me back, but it'll take the television equivalent of a lapdance and blowjob just to get my attention again.

And then you'll have to wow me.





Later.

5 x 102

500 miles.

The Proclaimers said they'd walk it, but I've done them one better:

I ran it.

I don't normally run the day after a long run (10+ miles), but when I saw that I was only 4.5 miles away from hitting this milestone, I had to do it. Waiting one more day would have killed me.

I'm such a geek when it comes to running - I know that it's just a tool, but the sense of accomplishment that I got when the "500" logo came up on my computer screen was fantastic.

It's good company to be in.

According to the Nike+ website, there are 320,000 members who have logged 100 miles or more. That number drops to 45,600 for people who have logged 500+ miles.

And one of them's me.
Exclusive, eh?




Later.

Comfort is ...

..A warm pair of running shoes.

After a weekend of Booze and Bad Food, (not bad per se, but bad for me) the greatest cure-all in the world is running 10 miles.

Try it sometime.

After eating things I don't normally eat & drinking way more than I usually drink, getting back to feeling like myself is a wonderful experience.

I think it hit around mile 7.

By that time, all the toxins have crawled out through my pores in their haste to escape what I'm doing to my body. I no longer have that bloated feeling, and all the stiffness is gone from my legs. Of course it only goes downhill from here, because no one is going to tell you they feel great after 10 miles - they may feel good, but the certainly don't feel great.

But I feel great now.

Go ahead, call me twisted - I don't care.

Me and my tight glutes and calves feel awesome.




Later.

Why Is It.....

That hippies seem to think they have all the answers to the world's problems?

I was sitting on the ferry coming back from Vancouver, and this dirtbag behind me starts spouting off about how he can save the Canadian way of life if the government just gave everyone 35,000 a year to live off of and we all became more thrifty in our everyday ways. He thought that that would eliminate the socio/economical gap that exists in our country, and we'd all be sitting around the campfire, eating Naniamo bars and taking hits off the bong.

Sure, I could have moved if I really wanted, but the ferry was full and I really didn't want to beat up a random 8 year old just to take their seat. (That's so 80's.)

I'm glad that my dreadlocked friend has all the country's problems solved - it's a load off my mind, that's for sure. Now I can worry about the real important things, like how all this Fall Out Boy music got on my Zune.




Later.

Port Coquitlam in a Nutshell...

• Woody's Pub: Rock Pub, Couger Bar, crazy people. Sang "Don't Stop Believeing" and "Jesse's Girl" at the top of my lungs.


• Unknown Country Bar: Yes, I went there - Bar Band plays Def Leppard. In country, no less - I think Joe Elliot would be shocked to hear "Hysteria" with a harmonica.
• Denny's @ 3am : And I thought Sally Jo's was bad, back in the day...


• IHOP: Not what you'd think. I was disapointed. Full, but disapointed.


• Coquitlam Centre Mall: More people than I can shake a stick at, and they were all in my way. Every store was crowded, and walking was a chore.

More when I get back.....

Later.