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.

Holiday....

I must be doing something right - my first day of holidays are sunny and nice.
(Cold as Fuck in the morning, but I'm not going to complain about that.)

I originally booked these holidays to help the Sidekick move - but since we did all the big stuff a couple of weeks ago, I'm just going to go over to The City and hang.

There's going to be poker, comics, and probably the occasional Gin or Beer. (Oh Noes!) It'll be cool to just kick back and roll - old skool style. Of course it's not completely old school, 'cause back in the day I'd sleep in on a hungover Sunday morning - this time I'm making him take me to his Gym. (Sad, isn't it?)

I have to go to the Gym, he said his new place is down the road from an IHOP. (How the hell am I supposed to resist that?)


If all goes well, I leave Saturday morning and come back sometime Monday/ Tuesday. I think after 3-4 days with the Sidekick in the Big Smoke, I'm going to need another holiday just to recuperate.

Can't wait.




Later.

Giving Up The Game.

I have to stop playing NHL 09.

Not by choice, mind you.

You see, the copy I have isn't really mine - it's the Sidekick's, and I've just been using it while he was away from his Xbox. Now that he is situated in The Big City, I have to give it back.

And therein lies my problem.

At first it wasn't a big deal, as I'd received a Futureshop gift card for Christmas, and was planning on getting the game with that when I returned the Sidekick's copy. (No problem, right?)

But then I spent the gift card on DVD's. Some in January, and the rest just the other day.
( I got this sweet deal on The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen & Ghostbusters 1&2 - how do you pass that up?)

So now I will be without my Hockey fix until Payday. And that seems like an eternity away.

You have to understand, this is a game that I play religiously. Every day, at least once. It's addictive. Giving this up cold turkey will be harder than quitting smoking and masturbating at the same time. (Impossible, right?)

So wish me luck.

I'm gonna need it.



Later.

Kiss My Ass, Billie Jean.

It finally happened.

After months and months, I finally beat that bitch.

I beat Billie Jean into the gym this morning.

It doesn't sound like much, but it's an accomplishment.

Billie Jean is always first in the gym. Monday to Friday, she's the first name on the sign in sheet. Doesn't matter if they open at 5:15 or 5:30am , she's first through the door. It's been a goal of mine to beat her. (Sad, isn't it?)

Today was my day.

Usually her car is parked right by the front, next to the handicapped spot. It's a sweet spot, but tricky to get into as you have to cut a sharp corner as you come into the parking lot.

I was right behind her as she pulled in today.

While she was wrangling her Honda into her favorite spot, I parked and calmly walked (fast, but definitely not a run) into the gym and signed in. Victory!

She didn't say anything, (Probably because she doesn't know of my obsession with beating her to the sign in sheet)but I could tell she was hurting inside.

At least I think it was that - she was doing lunges, so maybe the pained expression was from those.

But in my mind, she knows.
Oh yes, she knows.




Later.

Pop For Sale.

So they are auctioning off Neverland.

Now, I'm not one to judge how batshit crazy Micheal Jackson may or may not be, but if you leaf through even just a portion of the online auction catalog, you'll understand that he just isn't living in the same world as the rest of us.

It's not the scores of Arcade games he has, nor the antique popcorn & coffee machines. (I'd have that shit too, if I had the cash.)

It's the dolls.

Not so much the life-sized Batman & Terminator statues (still cool), but the life sized ones of:

• Maids - old, not french.
• Butlers - old, not Alfred or Benson.
• Old people sitting on benches.
• Clowns.

There's more, but I think I mentally blocked the rest of the shit out.

I can't even begin to say I understand why he'd have shit like that laying around.

But who would understand? Macaulay? Janet? Someone ask Tito - maybe he knows what the fuck was up with that shit.

All I know is I'd hate to be the guy who's got to pick that shit up after it's sold.

"Was this pair of toddler's undies supposed to be with the belt and jacket from the Bad video? - Oh, I didn't think so."



Later.

W.T.F.

The Boys love to watch this show.

I have fun watching them watching this show.

They laugh so hard I almost think we might have to go back to diapers.





Seriously - whatever these guys are smoking - I'd like a hit.


Later.

4-Way City.

I had to go to Courtenay today.

Normally when I go to the City Next Door, (with the family) we head to the South part of town - where meccas of commerce such as Futureshop reside - we don't go into the Downtown core.

Today, however, I had to venture there to register for my Half Marathon. (30 days away!) The local running shop is located on Fifth Avenue, right in the middle of town.

It sucks to drive in downtown Courtenay.

I never realized that one area could have so many four-way stops. As you go up Fifth, just about every intersection is a 4-way, and no matter what road you turn down, you will come to another 4-way within two blocks. Combine that with some areas that are no left turn between 9am-6pm and you really have a headache.

It's like a driving school nightmare.

After navigating that for a while, I needed to get out.

I think it only took seven 4-way stops to get me to Futureshop, where I was able to relieve my stress with the purchase of a DVD or two.

I couldn't get back home fast enough.

Campbell River Drivers: You're shitty, you weave in and out of traffic, pass on the right, don't signal, and break most road safety laws. But at least I don't have to pull up behind your ass and wait every block and a half.




Later.

Hurricane Obama

As I toiled away on the Stairclimber at the gym this morning, there was one thing that bothered me.

I was watching the news, and they were discussing Obama's visit to Canada today. There were shots of Air Force One, and pictures of the Ottawa skyline.

The strange thing was the amount of attention they were paying to the weather.

They were talking at great length about the rain in Maryland, and possible weather conditions in Ottawa. They updated it about 3 or 4 times. I don't think that the guys who fly the President's plane are going to be deterred because of a little rain - so I was confused as to the attention.

Although it's strange, I think it's a good thing that's all they had to talk about. If it was the previous President coming to Canada, you'd have stories about extra security to prevent a Mukluk assault.

I had to work today, so I didn't get to catch anything about the visit - I'll read up on it tomorrow. Knowing how Canadians feel about Obama, I'm sure he was greeted at the airport by mobs of adoring fans, and treated like he was the Second Coming of Christ. (That or the Black Superman, I'm not sure which.)

Either way, I'm sure it'll be entertaining.




Later.

Plateau.

I've hit a wall.

In regards to my weight loss, that is. (Please don't think I've injured myself or anything.)

With my training right now, I'm running anywhere from 24-30 miles a week. You'd think that with all that exercise, I'd just be shedding the pounds, right?

Not so.

I've been the same weight for the last two weeks - not even a pound difference.

Granted, it's been the two weeks with Valentine's, (Shitty food) company over, (Shitty food) and a couple of family birthdays/ outings thrown in. (Shitty food and beer)

So I think tomorrow will be my start back to the goodness that is Healthy Choices in what I eat.

I have 35 days until my half marathon, and only 28 until the weight-loss competition I'm in finishes. The only hiccup I'm going to allow is for when I'm in Vancouver with the Sidekick - next to that, it's the Good Life for me.

If I've been eating like shit and had no change, imagine what I'm going to look like with the glorious combination that is diet & exercise.


I"ll be off that plateau yet - mark my words.




Later.

The Biggest Man In The World.

My Grandfather wasn't a big man.

By the time I was 15, the Twin and I towered over him.

But size didn't matter - he could still kick our asses.

Have you ever heard of Old Man Strength? Pop had that in spades. He'd throw us around like ragdolls if we tried to mess with him. He was the most gentle, unassuming man you'd ever meet, yet he could grip your arm and grind your bones together if need be.

He drove truck during the Second World War. He didn't brag about it, but I've seen the medals he had for being in certain areas, and being part of the U.N. afterwards. That's how he was - it wasn't what you've done in your life that mattered, it's what you're doing now.

He and my Grandmother lived across the steet from me when I was born. Except for 5 years when I lived in Tumbler Ridge, they've lived in the same town as me, no matter where it was. The Twin and I spent 16 hours in a Ryder moving van with him when he helped us move to the Island. (If putting up with two 14 year old boys for 16 hours, while driving the Fraser Canyon doesn't deserve a medal, I don't know what does.) He's always been there, on camping trips, hockey games, cub scouts, weddings, births - the good times and the bad times.

I held my Grandfather's hand as he died Thursday night.

He left this world quietly and peacefully, just like the man he was.

Like I said - Pop wasn't a big man, but he loomed large in my life.

I'll miss you, Poppie.

More than I can say.





Later.

Departure.

We loaded up the Sidekick's stuff today - he's off to the big city.

I think he had even more crap than I did - and I lived in a house, not a one-bedroom apartment. (To be fair- he's been in that place a long time.)

The best find:

This cover - just picture a band across the corner that says "Gretzky Retires" and there will be no confusion as to how long this particular piece of literature has been sitting in his apartment. He started calling it a Pop Culture Archive, what with all the Rolling Stone and Entertainment Weekly laying around, but I think it was more of a explosion of geekiness - a Nerdgasm, if you will.

And now it's packed up and gone.

I'll admit - I'm a bit sad.

It should be okay, though - he's coming back to tidy and finish some final stuff at the end of the month, and I'll go over and stay in the Big Smoke for a couple of days when he heads back. After that, I'll have to live vicariously through his exploits via Facebook. (At least until I can get over there again.)

I wonder if Skipper felt like this when Gilligan left the island?

We'll never know.




Later.

At Least I Have A Warm Heart...

There's really only one disadvantage to working in the Dairy/ Freezer section - cold hands.

Sure, I have gloves, but they are pretty much useless, and eventually, my hands get used to a certain level of chilliness - I don't even notice how cold they are.

Until I have to use the washroom.

The shock of cold hand on warm ... member is, for lack of a better word, disagreeable. For a moment, I thought my penis was in full retreat and trying to hide somewhere behind my lower intestine.

Needless to say, the next time I had to use the facilities, I washed my hands with warm water, dried, and then coaxed Mr. Happy out to frolic.

It's just more pleasant all around.


And sanitary, now that I think about it.



Later.

A Nothing Day.

Today was to be a day of Accomplishments, Achievements, and just a Get-Shit-Done kinda day.

In fact, it was a day of doing Absolutely Fuck All.

Next to the stuff I normally do when taking care of the kids, (Playing, feeding, cleaning) I didn't do a single thing that I wanted to do today.

• No Gym.
• No Run.

I know it's nobody's fault but my own, but I'm kinda divided on weather or not to feel good about taking the day off, or feel guilty about not doing anything.

I'll go with both.

Seeing how tomorrow is a big run day, (12 miles) I'll feel good about resting, and use the gulit to push myself the extra distance.

Wish me luck.




Later.

5 Steps Short.

I messed up.

I went to the gym today with a purpose - to run 3.5 miles as fast as I could without killing myself, and then to get in at least another 30-or-so minutes on the weights.

You see, the 3.5 miles were important because they were going to put me over the 400 mile mark according to my Nike+ Sportband. That's a pretty big milestone to hit, and I was really pumped about it.

As I'm just about done my run, one of the guys I workout with shows up, and asks if I want to hit the weights in a circuit. I agree, check my mileage and see that I made it - I hop off the treadmill and hit the weight section. (But that's a story for later on.)

When I get home and plug my Sportband in, it tells me that I didn't hit 400 - I'm .1 miles short. I guess I misread it at the gym. I was all hyped up for this big feeling of accomplishment, and I can't even hit the mark until Sunday.

Why Sunday? Well, that leads to the next part.


You see, the workout partner and I did a circuit as follows:

• 10 Thrusters.
• 10 Side Lat Raises - alt with front raises in later sets.
• 20 Hanging Leg Raises - knees to elbows.
• 10 Leg Press
• 10 Leg Extension
• 10 Leg Curls
• 20 Decline Bench Situps
• 20 Straight Leg Raises
• 10 Burpees
• 20 Kettlebell Swings

And we did that 5 times around in less than 45 minutes. I was dead at the end of it.

It's been so long since I've really worked my legs - I can feel my hamstrings tightening up even from just typing what we did today. Throw 9 hours of work (On a major warehouse/receiving day, no less) and I'm wiped.

So tomorrow is a Rest Day. (I still have to work, but it's a rest day from the gym.) I'm going to take it easy on my legs and then come Sunday I'm going to kick some ass.

It'll just be a letdown, knowing that I'm not crossing this milestone at the end of a hard run, but with my warmup mile. Just seems anti-climactic.

Whatever, I'll take it.




Later.

Last Guy to the Party.

According to YouTube, I'm the 22,853,391st person to watch this video (and laugh, I presume).

If you haven't seen it already, just take a number and get in line.




Funny Shit




Later.

Meaningless.

I don't know whether or not to feel bad for Nickelback.

Sure, you've just been nominated for 5 Juno awards - but at the end of the day, what does that mean, really?

It's like being the fastest skater on the ice - but only when pitted against kids with just one foot.

When your competition is Celine Dion and Hedley, there's really not much to get excited about. (When was the last time Celine Dion was relevant in music anyways?)

The biggest threat they have is from Sam Roberts - and knowing how, as Canadians, we usually mess this up, we won't honor Sam and the boys at all. (Not that the Junos really matter - when was the last time you saw "Juno Award Winner" on a CD case by any band that tours outside of Canada?)

So I guess I shouldn't feel bad for them - they are most likely going to win something - but I can still feel bad for them for just being Nickelback.





Later.

The Day Groundhogs Ruled The Earth.

I guess the British didn't need the lovable rodent to tell them that winter's still here for another six weeks, eh?

Seriously, though - has anyone really looked at how accurate these little bastards are? I'm sure they have a better ratio of right/wrong than your average forecaster, and they don't have to go to old people's homes when Great-Gran hits the century mark.

Come to think of it, looking at my TV and seeing a Groundhog come out of his hole would be just as interesting as what my regular weather guy does.

What made the Groundhog so special, anyway? (I'm guessing that the other rodents are somewhat jealous.) Was there a particular reason our forefathers chose this hibernating animal? Why not a Bear? I'd rather watch some guy try to wake up a Grizzly than see if a Groundhog catches a glimpse of his shadow.

But it'll never happen - the Groundhog is too ingrained into our culture. I'm sure that there would be some sort of outrage, a protest gone wrong, and then next thing you know the picture to the right is all too real.


At least I know Bish will be enjoying the holiday - he did say it was his favorite, after all...





Later.

Discomfort Is...

Going to the gym on your lunch hour, running your nuts off, (Literally, not figuratively.) and finding that you forgot to pack another pair of underwear.

Wearing sweaty boxer briefs underneath your uniform isn't the most pleasant experience in the world - especially if you have to go in & out of a freezer for half the night.

Sure, I could have gone commando - but my apron doesn't leave much to the imagination, and I wouldn't want to startle anyone.

They're pretty much dry now, but I tell you - next time I'll have 3 pairs in my gym bag - just to be sure.

Later.

Second Skin.

If you've ever ran over 10 miles at a time, you'll understand the need for compression clothing. It really helps alleviate chaffing and any discomfort caused by loose clothing.

I always feel like a Superhero when I'm putting on my Under Armour. Something about the stretchy spandex-iness of it just makes me feel like I'm gearing up to fight crime. That, combined with the fact that I wear my running shirts and shorts over the spandex, gives me the feeling of being Peter Parker, with his Spiderman costume hidden under his everyday clothes.


(Trust me, you don't want to see me in this stuff with nothing on over top - it shows every flaw you may or may not be aware of. I may be proud of my shoulders and chest, but I still have that pudge around the waist that looks HUGE when wrapped up like a sausage.)

The only downside to it is taking it off after a run - it tends to want to stay put, and wrestling with a sweaty, clingy thing is only enjoyable during sex. (And since I'm taking it off by myself, that only goes into awkward masturbation territory.) Still, it's better than chaffing.

On the bright side, if I happen to come across a crime in progress while out for a run, I'm suitably dressed for the occasion.




Later.

Questions & Answers.

Kevin Smith is coming to Vancouver for a Q & A on March 27th.

As we speak, the Sidekick is getting ready to scramble for tickets, as they go on sale this Saturday at 10:00AM.

I would give my left nut to go see this show.

As a long-time Kevin Smith devotee, there are a few questions I'd like to ask - if I get the chance, of course.

1. How hard was it to focus while filming Rosario Dawson's dance scene on the roof of the Mooby's? I would have just stared at that shit for hours.
2. What is your favorite mall, and where is it located?
3. Tell me about Linda Fiorentino. (Supposedly, he just won't talk about her.)
4. Which is a faggier drink - a Grande White Chocolate Mocha, a Skinny Vanilla Latte, or a Venti Hazelnut Machiato -extra hot, no foam?
5. If you were forced into an all-man threeway with Ben Affleck and Jason Mewes, would you be on the inside or the outside of the sandwich?
6. Will you be my friend? (Even if it's only on Facebook?)

Nothing really deep and personal, mind you, but just stuff I'm curious about. (The Affleck/Mewes thing? Don't ask.)

I hope the Sidekick is successful in his endeavor. I hope that we get a chance to go to this. I hope Dave Grhol is sitting beside me in the audience.

Here's to hoping.



Later.

Things I Learned This Weekend...

1. When you tell your wife you're going out for a couple of drinks and will be home by 11:45, don't get piss-drunk with your Sidekick, leave your cellphone in the car, and come home at 2:45am.
2. Make sure you don't have to attend a Six-Year Old's Birthday party the next morning either - the noise level is not conducive to your altered state.
3. Moxie-sizeing your Gin and Tonic? Not a bad idea. Porn Stars at the Bar? Bad Idea.
4. Don't run into people from work at the bar - the next day, everybody from work knows what you were up to.
   
5. Going to work is actually the best thing for you - it keeps you moving and somewhat focused. (As long as you stay moving - whatever you do, don't stop moving.)
   
6. Running 10 miles Monday Morning really gets whatever toxins are left in your system out. It sucks, but it works.
7. I have moves like a mad pimp.

Later.

Long Time, No Beer.

The Sidekick's back in town tonight.

He's getting ready to move to the Big Smoke, and came over early to get things started. Tonight will be the first time we've have a chance to go out for drinks since the Canucks game o-so-long ago.

It'll be good to just sit and shoot the shit. Trying to stay in touch with someone who is on a completely different schedule, and doesn't have the computer access they normally do, is next to impossible.

Of course I'll have to have all the gritty details of what he's doing in Van - how am I supposed to live vicariously through him if I don't know what's going on?

Fucker better have some stories.



Later.

They Grow Up Fast.

I just had "The Talk" with the Boy.

Not that talk - (he's only six), but the Boyfriend/Girlfriend talk.

There's this girl that he plays with at school all the time - they are always together. I used to bug him and call her his Girlfriend, at which point he'd get mad until I said "Friend who's a girl" - he took that shit pretty seriously.

So we're cleaning out the garage today ( yay Domestic Chores) - after I had just picked him up from a playdate at her house. (When I got there they were playing Wii together - is that something I should be worried about?) I asked the Boy how his Girlfriend was - expecting the same reaction as usual. Instead, he says "Daddy, you aren't supposed to find out." When I ask him what it is I'm not supposed to know, he tells me this:

At school they are best friends, but away from school they are Boyfriend /Girlfriend. (It's a big secret.)

(Just proof of how young the Boy really is: When asked what it was I'm not supposed to know, he immediately tells me. They only do that at this age - eventually I'll have to be more circumspect in my questioning.)

I asked him what it is that Boyfriends/Girlfriends do. Do they kiss? Hold hands? (It's been 30 years since I was six..) Much to my relief, he told me that they don't do any of that stuff, it's just like at school but they call themselves Boyfriend/Girlfriend.

Thank God that's it.

I'm sure I'll eventually have to have the Big Talk with him, but I hope it's still at least 6 or 7 years off. (I'll cover that shit early with him, so he doesn't pick up some dumb information off the street.)

For now he can keep his secret - (he asked me not to tell his Mother) so I'll just keep it on the down low. - I don't want her to think she's raising a Man-Whore.


They do grow up fast.





Later.

High Hopes.

If John McCain was good for one thing, it was this quote:

"Maverick I can do, but Messiah is above my pay grade."

I, like many others, feel that Barak Obama's election to the Presidency is a good thing. Like most Canadians, I like him better than our own Prime Minister. (That's really kinda sad, right? Sorry Mr. Harper.)

But I think a lot of Americans view Mr. Obama as some sort of national savior, and I worry that they will either expect too much right away, or else forgive him too easily for any of his shortcomings.

It could go either way.

On one had, these are the same people who elected G.W. twice - obviously they tend to let things slide a bit - but they are also people who have lost over 500,000 jobs in December, and poor people hate nothing more than to see someone else wasting money.

I wish him well. - He's going to need it.



Later.

Ass Crack Heaven.

What do most bowlers have against belts?

Last night was a nightmare.

I was at bowling, (cool, I know) and for some reason, everywhere I turned, there was man-ass hanging out. I'm not talking good lookling man-ass either - this shit was like a bad acid trip.

I swear to God one guy had so much hair I thought he had his sweater tucked in his pants.

It was like some kind of natural disaster - you just stared at it in horror.

The weird thing is all these ass-crackers are also the guys who do the big, sweeping throws with lots of leg movement - by the end of the swing, their belly's hanging out the front, and they're giving the vertical smile to everyone behind them.

I had no appetite at all last night. I didn't think I'd be able to hold anything down.

I'd like to get all these guys on one team - (and hopefully they would be sponsored by a belt & suspender company) that way I only have to see them once every ten weeks - I could at least prepare, or better yet, sit that week out.

Next to that, there's not much I can do.

Next week I'm going to try blinders - hopefully that will prevent some of the peripheral ass-cleavage from making me ill.

Wish me luck.


Later.

In a Fog.

Tonight after work I went out for a run.

For the last couple of days, we've had a ton of fog - I'm talking thicker-than-pea-soup shit. I went out anyway.

It's surreal, running in the fog. Everything is muted, from the lonely call of the foghorn to the muffled sound of the occasional car that drove by. I didn't bring my iPod, so there was no music to distract me - the only sound was my own breathing.

I could only see about 20 feet in any direction, but since I was following the Seawalk it wasn't a problem. I just stared straight ahead and ran.

I did come across a couple of people - some who were out for a run like me, and others who were just walking. It was almost as startling for me as it was for them. (When all you hear is heavy breathing and then some guy comes running by you in the fog, it might scare you just a bit.) It's funny - you'd think we'd have some sort of shared connection, us denizens of the fog - but most people preferred not to make eye contact and weren't social at all. ( Probably thought I was some crazy fucker for running in the dark.)

My favorite parts were when it seemed like I was completely isolated from everything else. It was eerie and relaxing at the same time. (Don't ask me how that even makes sense, but it does.)

I'd like to do it again - but next time I'll pick a more deserted road... and bring a hockey mask.

That'll really scare the shit out of someone.

(In case you were wondering - 6 miles, 45 minutes. Oh yeah.)


Later.

Post #2 - Fucking Hilarious.

This Ad cracks me up.



It's the squeaking that makes it.

Oh God, ..the squeaking.

Someone needs some lube.



Later.

Large & In Charge.

I was In Charge today.

Imagine a scenario in which the President is dead, (think Bush, not Obama.) and the Vice President is incapacitated. Half of the House is out with the flu, so who's in charge?

Eventually you work your way down to someone inconsequential, like the Secretary of Agriculture, who by the power of the Presidential Succession Act, takes charge if no one else can.

Today I was the Secretary of Agriculture.

With two of my bosses on Vacation and another one on his day off, I alone wielded the power in my corner of the world.

And it was Good.

I'd like to say that it was all fun and games, but to tell you the truth, I was bored out of my mind. When you delegate as efficiently as I do, you end up leaving nothing for yourself. (Although that coffee won't drink itself, will it?)

All and all the day was fun, hopefully I get to do it again soon with out having to have someone bumped off.

Now that's career advancement....



Later.

Headgear.

There's one thing I will never understand is guys who wear toques in the gym.

A hat I can appreciate, unless you wear it backwards, in which case you look like a nerdy 12-year old. I'll even accept the "do-rag" that some guys have. Headband? If you think you can pulling off with out looking like a fag, go ahead. (Hint: you still look like a fag.)

But a toque? What's the point? I can see if you are outside, but we are in a temperature-controlled indoor environment - and sweating to boot.

Most of the guys who are going with this look are the ones who workout in their wife-beaters and talk on their cellphones in between sets, so I shouldn't be surprised. They are the same ones who look like they are smuggling watermelons in under their shirts, but you only see them doing arm curls. (Although there is the occasional huge guy who does it, but like I'm gonna tell him he looks like a dick.)

I hope this fashion fuck-up goes away soon - it's not that it's really distracting or anything, but it's just one of those things that look so out of place that it boggles the mind.

If I go in tomorrow and see a guy doing curls with earmuffs and mittens, I'm going home.


Later.

300.

I hit the 300 mile mark today.

(That's 482 Km for the metric people.)

Sadly, it was during Intervals - which suck. (But are necessary, if I want to be faster.)

That means I've ran the equivalent of 11.45 marathons since September 14th. That's pretty impressive, I think.

I'm just over two months away from my half marathon now, and with the training I'm doing, I'm logging about 24-26 miles a week. Nike gives out another "Milestone" award at 500, so that's my next goal - and should almost coincide with my race, which would be cool.

See you on the streets.


Later.

Said To Me By A Bitch At The Gym...

"Have you been on that treadmill all this time?"

(After doing 10.25 miles in 90 minutes.)

"You need therapy."


What can I say? I don't like running in hurricane-force wind and rain.


Bitch.

I Feel #42531.

1. That the anger from going to the gym at 5:30 in the morning, only to find that the guy who's supposed to open it has slept in, almost burns as many calories as being at the gym.
2. That playing Wii Music makes me feel retarded. At least with Guitar Hero or Rock Band, you're playing a pseudo-instrument, instead of pretending to play a pseudo-instrument.
3. What do I love seeing when I come in from a morning at the gym? My brand new coffeepot waiting, having brewed a programmed cup for me just minutes before.
4. That trying to get a bunch of middle-age women who work together to get along is impossible. I should try something easier, like having Israelis and Palestinians hold hands and sing.
5. That when it rains, it pours - this can be both a good and bad thing.
6. That I'm not going to explain the above post.
7. That the new radio station at work is the worst possible station in the world. I would rather listen to cats mating than listen to that crap much longer.
8. That nothing will make me happier than being able to do a nice long run on the streets again - the roads around here are almost passable now, and I yearn for an outdoor run. (I yearn for a lot of stuff, but a run will do.)
9. That I forgot how much fun the rowing machine is. It's no party, but it's better than the bike.
10. That after so many days without really posting, you think I'd have more to say.

Guess not.

Later.

My Baby's Back.

Today at 5:42pm, My baby came home.

I almost wept.

She's hooked back up, and running like a champ. I didn't want to put the controller down.

It's been 1 month and 7 days since she broke down - now, with therapy, she's a s good as the day I first plugged her in. I almost forgot how the light shines off her crisp graphics and fast gameplay.


Welcome home, baby -

Welcome home.




Later.

Google News Is Some Fucked Up Shit.

Google News obviously has a different view of "Entertainment" than I do.

When I plopped down in front of my computer tonight, I do what I always do - hit Google News to get caught up on what's going on in the world.

As I scrolled away, checking each section, I noticed that the type of stories that were usually in "Entertainment" ( Movie premieres, Album releases, Lindsay Lohan on a coked-up binge) weren't there. Instead there were the three stories you see to your right.

Now why Google News describes Drunk Driving, Childbirth and Fleeing for Your Life as "Entertainment" is beyond me. I can't picture any of the people in the above situations laughing and cheering as they unfold. (Maybe the Drunk, but not if he's been nabbed by the Cops.)

Somebody fucked up somewhere.

It's probably just a glitch, but if the local Bake Sale is listed under "World News" I'll know someone has gone off their rocker.



Later.

Resolve

If you can't guess what my New Year's resolutions are going to be, I'm not going to tell you.

Based upon the sound advice of "If you tell someone what you wished for it won't come true" - I have decided to keep my resolutions close to the chest. That way the only person who can hold me accountable to them is me, and I'm pretty lenient with myself.

I know what my goals for the next year are - some of them are admirable, some are necessary, and some are downright selfish. (Do I really need to masturbate that much? - Yes.)

I'll let you know when I've accomplished one, but the failures I'll keep on the down low.


Later.