Fortune Cookies and Their Damnable Lies.

"Really great people make you feel that you too can become great." When did fortune cookies become so condescending? 'Really great' people don't give me the time of day until the inevitable restraining order arrives. I seem to find myself endlessly irritated at the moment. Currently I'm irritated by the fact that I'm being asked to get my weight in line by my company's insurance police or pay about $200 to continue my ho-ho eating ways.

I can understand this when it applies to smokers and heroin addicts, keeping our collective costs down because of those peoples irresponsible ways is understandable, but moi? Not so much. I dealt with this by sending a cranky, venty email to my HR person about the injustice of these bait and switch tactics before signing up for their weight management program. I then put Gillian Welch's bluesy, addictive music on permanent loop and tried to settle down.

They caught the katy, and left me a mule to ride.
The fortune lady came along she walked beside,
but every word seemed to date her.
Time's the revelator, the revelator.

Fine. It's probably what I need anyway, some harsh corporate mistress slapping my hand every time I reach for an Oreo while singing the siren call of the gym. Damnation. Doom. Self-discipline is not my forte. I wanna do right, but not right now... mmhmm I hope my subsequent implosion will have the epitaph of:

He went down swinging

as opposed to:

Queen of Fakes and Imitators

Time's the revelator.

Angst, Christmas and the Death of Wheezy AGAIN

I opted for walking the dog this morning having enjoyed snuggling with my wife a bit too much. My fancy iPod nano recording my every step. This walk consisted of 3,146 steps and was 1.53mi long, burning 187 calories and if you buy that wisdom then keep reading bucko! Since I got the gift in October I've taken 479,753 steps - in your face nameless person! As Layla and I walked in the morning drizzle I pondered the current political environment of fear and loathing, honestly, why does Harry Reid hate unicorns? Haters gonna hate I guess but I thought everyone liked unicorns.

Last night Wheezy found herself trapped in a cave with a giant she managed to piss off, probably because she was sent there to kill him by some bigwig Jarl. Look, it's a living, don't judge her. She's perpetually broke blowing her winnings on training, weapons, and housing not that they help much. To the casual observer, unfamiliar with Wheezy's fighting style it might appear that she was taunting her sluggish opponent with her ritual, "Neener, neener, neener - missed me, missed me now you got ta kiss..." WHACK the giant's club finally connecting with her like a dock worker's bat will connect with an occupy Wall Streeter's rib cage if they don't unoccupy those ports. By the third time she respawned Wheezy had learned her lesson, pumping ninety arrows into the giant having it crash, Goliath like, at her feet. Another 100 gold pieces towards that patio furniture she's been eying but first she has to buy the house.

My boss dropped off Christmas, er holiday gifts for his staff today since he's taking the next two weeks off. His Birkman red leadership style nicely offsetting my Birkman blonde by beating me to the punch. Actually by forcing me to act. I eye the generous gift thoughtfully and in the spirit of Christmas darkly mutter, "There will be... retribution!"

Nordic Aryan Master Race - Methinks Not

Back on the bike - dammit! I'm stuck in a weird head space pondering my next move. After yesterday's whine fest I decided to strap on a heart rate monitor and put Diablo's manifesto to the test.

Now my thighs burn and I'm tired - I'm bitter since I appear to have been cheated on the endorphin buzz, which is an interesting high since I feel a bit like a member of the Nordic Aryan master race when under its influence. All superior to you weak fools who phoned it in - again. It's a great high until I get bitch slapped by the deep dark truthful mirror and behold the flabby, middle aged wreck that is Wheezy. It's why I don't look into mirrors, they're Aryan Master Race destroyers.

 So its been about an hour since I finished my brutal thirty-five minute workout and I have to say, "I'm not feeling any thinner here Diablo!" I guess I did something wrong and will have to do it again.

Haters Gonna Hate

I'm humping this 'hill' on the spinner attempting to push my heart rate past indifferent into the near anaerobic stage as I halfheartedly follow Diablo's manifesto from yesterday. I hate this, it's hard.

When did I become a hater? I should be a halfhearted hater... but I'm not.

So I managed to get out of bed early enough to get in the gym for a 35min interval workout on the spinner. Five hills of 2:30 up and 2:30 down or something like that. Redeye is blasting in my ears distracting me from the task at hand. I'm not wearing my heart rate monitor so I'm flying blind but I can tell I'm well below the "95%–100%"max HR that Diablo is babbling about. I know this because I'm not covered in sweat wishing I was dead. And I mean, really??!! I'm suppose to jack my HR up that high five times in 35 minutes?

So what's the point? Am I doing anything beneficial AT ALL?! Or am I getting out of bed early for no good reason what-so-ever?

I hate this indifferent exercise funk I seem to be permanently locked in.

Fat Burning and Insanity

Well Diablo has gone insane, sadly these things happen. He sent out an email today that immediately piqued my curiosity:

Burning Fat: Myths and Facts


Here's where he loses touch with reality, poor baby:


The Bottom Line:
 
For fat and weight loss, what matters most is the difference between the number of calories you expend and the number of calories you consume. Fat and weight loss is about burning lots of calories and cutting back on the number of calories consumed. For the purpose of losing weight, it matters little whether the calories burned during exercise come from fat or carbohydrates.
 
Workouts for Fat Loss:
...
Go Hard
 
A great way to perform high-intensity exercise and decrease your body fat percentage is through interval training, which breaks up the work with periods of rest. Not only does interval training allow you to improve your fitness quickly; it is also more effective than continuous exercise for burning lots of calories during exercise and increasing your postworkout metabolic rate. Try one or two of these workouts each week:     

• 5–6 x 3 minutes at 95%–100% maximum (max) heart rate (HR) with 2-minute active recovery periods
• 4 x 4 minutes at 95%–100% max HR with 3-minute active recovery periods
• 8–12 x 30 seconds fast with 1-minute active recovery periods

Each of these interval workouts should include a warm-up and a cool-down.
 
Go Very Long
 
Long runs or bike rides (≥ 1.5–2 hours at 65%–70% max HR) that stimulate mitochondrial synthesis and promote the depletion of glycogen threaten the muscles’ survival, since carbohydrates are muscles’ preferred fuel. In response to this threat, muscles “learn” how to use fat more effectively and over time become better fat-burning machines.

Enjoy,

ENJOY?! I mean really ::rolls eyes::

Hints of Hope

Yesterday I overslept and for punishment took the dog out in the early morning with arctic temperatures. The day only got better when my wife called telling me the garage door was broken. So we dealt with that.

Today I'm on the spinner doing intervals and experimenting with actually pushing myself a little. I may even bring myself to sweat - GROSS - but my father has told me that my lard ass ways must once again come to a close after the Christmas Holidays. I stop signalling the trainer for another Mimosa out of guilt. Stupid dad. Mulling it over I call out to the trainer to bring me a DIET Mimosa - dammit! - it's vile, truly it is.

I hope you're happy father!

So, as usual of late, I'm hammered and a bit time crunched. Humping up these virtual hills but only three of them because I was up too late playing Skyrim followed by over sleeping and getting to the gym late. Wheezy the wood elf suffered mightily last night. It took her forever to get past these two orcs so she could do something weird to the glowing red skull. Wheezy is a thief, a very frail thief; preferring to avoid any conflict where possible. She's also pretty clumsy when it comes to pick pocketing. I'm in therapy about Wheezy being a chick.

 Still, I pushed it today... a little and that gives me a little hope.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving... a few wonderful days that are greeted with rising angst as I realize that it's not long enough. I'm stumbling around my parents house doing various tasks like fixing a leaky faucet, working on my moms computer and enjoying it. I get home and my wife asks me to fix a leaky shower and I have a mini-meltdown.

What's up with that?!

Work is keeping me busy but I've managed to get into the gym most of this week. Not that I'm into it but I'm dragging myself in there. Here's a photographic metaphor of where I'm headed, momma grizzly is weight gain.

Projected Growth

I'm certain you were as shocked as I was that the "super committee" failed, joining me in Loserville. Those of us in Loserville are a bit disappointed that these gibbering, finger pointing, idiots are here driving down property values. We plan to throw them out before they wreck the place.
So, correct me if I'm wrong but I believe these halfwits were tasked with trimming $1.2 trillion from the projected growth of the deficit, or fake money in other words, and they couldn't even do that. Personally increased taxes are a non-starter for me since the problem is spending. I'm suppose to give the bloated swine that is the federal government more money?! Steyn is correct, I get to watch the death of America first hand, not the soft slow decline like western Europe. We are not serious about this and shall suffer the consequences.


So we kick the can further down the road, doing nothing. Much like how I spent my post Philmont summer, laying around... growing softer. It's work, this exercise thing and it takes discipline. Which is why I'm struggling with it.

So, will Bill grow increasingly fat or will he do what needs to be done?

I did 30 on the bike. Not enough, like cutting imaginary money.

The Damage Done

OK, it's Monday - my son turns 17 today and I'm pretty amazed by that. Happy Birthday to the best son a dad could wish for!

Unfortunately I'm cranky, probably because it is Monday. I'm done with my little self-assessment. Weight is back to ground zero meaning I get to start all over again except this time with full knowledge of what it takes to drive it down. Cardio seems OK and this achilles might be a problem along with the knee - neither of which have found it in them to let Philmont go.

Hmmm, I wonder if I'll drive this weight down? I'm kinda thinking maybe/maybe not. God decided to give me a motivational omen this morning by presenting only one little cereal box of Raisin Bran instead of my normal two, obviously indicating His displeasure with my wayward ways.

So more cardio with 30 on the spinner followed by a few crunches. I might goof around with the weights tomorrow in an effort to check the damage done in that arena. Can't wait! ::rolls eyes::

Oh Yeah, NOW I Remember!

Well TSA calendar is out! That's Miss March, she enjoys wearing lead high heels while walking on the beach and being sterile from all the irradiation. She seemed like a nice girl when performing a cavity search on a nine year old or checking out grandma's Depends. If you're looking for a girl who has no problem "going there" she just might be 'The One!'

I'm continuing to take inventory on the wreck that was Bill. After my little spinner ride yesterday I spent the rest of the day wincing from an inflamed left achilles and an equally inflamed right knee. The overall effect had me stumbling around work like Frankenstein on quaaludes. My wife was alarmed enough that she thought I should take an Aleve and maybe not go into the gym today even though she's desperately hoping that I'll resume my exercising ways.

I went in to the gym today mainly because I knew that if I didn't ponyTail would kick my ass. I see Bubbles by the water fountain and she gives me a big Bubbles grin of welcome back. We discuss if Victoria Secrets Pink should release a line of stocking caps and if you bought one would you be wearing underwear on your head? Something to ponder during the workout.

I do thirty-five minutes of intervals on the bike - wonder how that's gonna feel in a few hours.

Day Four of Desperation

Did intervals for 30 minutes today on the spinner. I'm still 'zahning' my situation, trying like our moronic government, to figure a pain free way out of this mess with having to really pay for it. Like our government this can go one of two ways, either I'll drive my weight back down or I'll put on fifteen trillion pounds and ask my kids to exercise it off for me while I signal the Chinese for another round of Oreo Double Stuffs.

::sits on hands staring at the above paragraph:: Yeah, I tortured that metaphor enough.

So I'm listening to RedEye on my iPod, giggling and turning the crank while pondering the public service message below wondering what, if anything, it all means.

Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed

I wonder how long I can last? Unfortunately this isn't some Bangkok brothel, instead I'm standing before the hated StairMaster.

I'm dimly recalling my first experience on the stupid thing where I went five minutes and how much fun that was! I'm also happy about goodMood's insomnia which brought him in early and had him heading out when I arrived. Having goodMood on the StairMaster next to me would invite unwanted comparisons.

I mount the chthonic (yes, Bill has access to a thesaurus) device, press 'Quick Start' before I can think about it and begin upping the level. Bubbles use to have these little spread sheet jobbies printed on how to truly kill yourself on this thing. At my pinnacle I was able to complete the 'pansy' (or using the politically correct term 'beginner') level most of the time usually having to dial it down a bit towards the end. This time I'm plodding up the thing at level seven - when I hit a mile, covered in sweat I stop and head for the showers.

Three days in a row...

At the gym I'm rudderless, unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed.

Yes... no... maybe... I don't know, can you repeat the question?

I wallow in lethargy, I miss the zeal, the fun of simply doing it and I wonder where it went. Yesterday I got on the spinner and turned the crank and felt ... bored. This will be forever thought of as The Blown Summer of my Flabby Discontent, or something equally ponderous, fat, stupid.

Philmont tore me up. It was well worth it but it tore me up.

Instead of my initial master plan of:

• Biking - a lot
• Philmont
• My 1st century on the bike
• Ripped six-pack at High School Reunion
• Hell Run
• Acting like a pretentious ass

It became:

• A total of 27 miles of biking or so
• Philmont
• A wonderful 20th Anniversary with my wife in NYC
• Hell Run
• Morosely struggling to get into the gym at all

I think about that when I hit the gym, missing most of my goals annoys me but I just heard from what's her name... what is her name????? uhhhhhh...

Oh My God!!!

Banging my head on the table didn't help the recall process one bit and I could spill her real name but you bastards would stalk the bejesus out of her - admit it damn you... what was her name?... oh come on!

ponyTail!!! I probably forgot that because I haven't seen her in the gym in forever, it can't be because I'm older than dirt... nor the incessant Diet Mt. Dew drinking... where was I?

Oh yeah, so I just got a nice note of encouragement from ponyTail though I had to chuckle at, "Sweetheart, the early morning crew is all about support and caring." When did that happen??? Times have changed! The early morning crew use to be about backstabbing and killing yourself in front of everyone trying a stunt that would be stupid at seventeen when you still had cartilage and flexibility; probably an ironMan influence. Word on the street is ironMan's a member of some highfalutin gym that's closer to his home and shortens his commute by about an hour. I bet he looks great, I should probably change his name to ironAdonis or something like that.

Thirty minutes on the elliptical; one must protect one knees in one's dotage. Gawd I hate this machine, I'm doing intervals and sweating, which is the point. I'm listening to They Might Be Giants (don't judge me) investigating if Boss of Me (Malcolm in the Middle theme song) was their high water mark or not. So far ... yeah.

Why I, why I'm in this room
There is no point explaining
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big

Two days in a row, covered in god-like sweat I head for the showers.

Monday...

Back on the spinner for 35min - will it stick? Not sure but kinda hope so. Saw some of the regulars but kept a low profile out of shyness/embarrassment. Maybe I'll have a longer entry tomorrow.

From the iPad

Ok I've downloaded this iPad app in a vague, hazy hope that maybe I'll start blogging again. I've been on the exercise wagon, off the exercise wagon. Burned out. Indifferent.

And frankly I'm not quite back yet mentally but I've been thinking about it.

First I'll need to talk about Philmont, I have definite opinions about what happened there.

Dude... DIBS!

They say it's cold in hell. I tended to agree as I stood in line waiting for the opportunity to purchase an iPad 2 in the wee hours.

A buddy and I had decided, upon hearing that this store would be opening at 9AM since they were getting a shipment of iPads in. We talked about it figuring if we showed up around 7am we should have no problems.

I could NOT sleep that night due to my excitement. Finally I was going to get an iPad!!! Around 2AM I started waking up, at 3:30 I said screw it, got up showered/shaved blah blah blah, got a cup of joe and a lawn chair before heading to the Apple store. I got there about 4:30ish and as I was getting my chair out when this dude hopped out of his car next to me saying, "You here for the iPad thing? The security guy wont let you stand out there until 7am"

"Can I set up my chair?"

"Well there are two other ones out there so probably."

I sat in my chair (the third one from the left) trying not to shiver or think too much about the fact that I'd be here for 4.5 hours. About fifteen minutes into it a security guard pulls up and tells me to move on but he let me keep my chair there. I head back to the car and warm up.

Around 6:30am the security guard takes down the cones blocking access to the front of the store so I drove around and parked there. Shortly after that around 6:45am there were enough people to achieve critical mass and the security guard just gave up trying to shoo us away.

So I'm standing primarily because it gets too cold to when I sit hopping around getting a feel for the crowd. I'm fourth in line. In front of me is 1am followed by 3am and 4:15am. We all have high hopes and are feeling pretty good about our position. We start asking each other what we want the guys in front of me all want 32GB WiFi. I'm definitely leaning towards a 64GB WiFi. The folk behind me seem to want 16 or 32 GBs.

Around 7am the Apple folk start showing up. We're trying to get the skinny and getting blank stares in return until the manager shows up. I know he's the manager because he's speaking gibberish.

"How many iPads did you get in?"

"I don't know if we got any in but if we did we'll be opening the store at 9am"

This is met with a sudden change in mood from the crowd. We begin to darkly mutter, "We were told yesterday you were definitely getting a shipment in..." while we collectively wonder why we're standing here at this ungodly hour.

The manager blanches, putting a door between us and him. He's back to saying, "I don't know if we got any in but if we did we'll be opening the store at 9am"

"When are you opening the store?"

"9am"

"So you definitely have some..."

And he's gone, fleeing into the store.

This oriental dude shows up grinning ear to ear, standing just to my left behind me. I turn to him and start telling him the line is at the rear. There are probably 30-40 people there now. He begins babbling about being more than happy to buy my 'second' iPad from me (we were allowed two) and to pay cash for it.

It's about 7:30am. I'm tired. I'm cold. I glance down the line at all the folk behind me, paying their dues just like me and this clown wants to rob one of them of their chance at an iPad today? Where was he at 3:30 - 4AM? I tell him, "No." Still grinning he moves down the line working others.

My buddy shows up. I'd been telling my brethren about him so they wouldn't be pissed when he just started standing next to me. I'm not worried, if they don't want to let him get one I'll just buy two and he can pay me back - my line pals appear to grok this on a cellular level.

We're gabbing amongst ourselves when the store manager shows back up. He's relieved that he has any at all but he has only six. He turns to 1am and asks what he wants.

"A 32GB black WiFi"

The manager grins, makes some mark on a piece of paper and says, "Good because in 32GB that's ALL I have today. There are no more 32 GBs. What's left are 2 64GB WiFi blacks and three 16GB WiFis - I have no cellular ones in this shipment."

Next is 3:30am who opts for a 16GB black - followed by 4:15am who opts for a 64GB, then me and I take a 64GB while staring sadly at my buddy. He does NOT want a 16GB and so has nothing. I have no idea what happens to the two remaining 16GBs.

The rest of the crowd disperses except for those of us 'winners' (that's what it felt like). We're gabbing amongst ourselves and I'm telling some folk what I've learned from other iPad owners which is you do not want to 16GB because you'll run out of space.

That's when 3:30am hit's me with his treachery, "You're gonna hate me but I've been listening and I've decided I want the 64GB one."

I'm filling a mixture of panic, bitterness and anger. Grinning back at him I say, "Dude... dibs!"

He looks at me and says, "I'm sorry."

My buddy is quietly telling me to talk to the manager which I was fully intending to do. When he shows back up letting us in because it's cold I'm on him like white on rice. I tell him of 3:30's backstabbing ways and then step back awaiting his ruling. He turns to 3:30 and says, "I'm sorry but I've already given it to this gentleman."

PHEW!

I'm still on pins and needles watching 3:30 like a hawk making sure he behaves until Lorelei elven goddess of the woods (well that's what she looked like, I'm thinking Apple is probably lax on their drug testing) showed up to process my order in her black with white polka-dots rain boots.

And then I got it. Happy happy sighs - like goFast says this is a game changing device - I've only had it for a few days but I seriously love it. My buddy did the 4:30AM thing the following day and picked up one that was just a little better than mine (cellular model) but that's the way he rolls.

iPad2? Fat Chance!

Well everything pales next to what's happening in Japan.

I opted for my son's band competition and so missed any opportunity of getting an iPad 2 when they went on sale Friday. I wasn't alarmed figuring I could just stroll in on Saturday and grab one. I proved I was just about as divorced from reality as the Obama administration Saturday morning during my whirlwind tour of local stores. Apple, Target, Best Buy, Walmart - NADA. Sales clerks were actually laughing in my face! "Do we have any iPad 2s? AS IF!" So I went online and ordered one through Apple, I should get it in April 2025 when the iPhone70 and iPad64 are debuted.

Shrug. At least it will be what I want as opposed to good enough if that's all you have impulse buy in a store.

I'm struggling with the time change having gone to bed way too early and then did the check what time it is tango from about 1am to 4am when I got up.

I did forty-five minutes on the spinner doing intervals. goFast is already out on his bike battling the wind and temperatures far ahead of this little sissy. Of course goFast is dangerously insane.

iPads and Goddesses

I think this look would totally work for me.

I'm humping this spinner waiting for 5pm, a moment in chaos, since I have actual responsibilities being weighed against desire, lust, geek lust actually which is the ugliest kind of lust. What will happen? Will I sacrifice my son's band thingy for the object of my desire or bow to what's right and go to the performance or will I manage to do both?

I sense overwhelming indifference on your end of the line while the battle for my immortal soul rages. I may keep you posted on what happens with Bill's version of Sophie's Choice, or I may be busy playing alone in my room with my toy... er, iPad. I mean iPad, yeah, that's what I mean, mmhmm.

I'm irked with the fascist Jobs at the moment. What's this noise about releasing the new iPads at 5pm forcing us poor proletariat types to actually work for the entire day before contributing to rush hour chaos by screaming across town to get in line for a new iPad. In 'the ago' these things came out around noon and we'd get about a half day walking around work looking über-cool while those that didn't partake in Apple's brand of kool-aid gnashed their teeth in android envy!

Steve, what happened dude? You use to be cool!

ponyTail is over by the chin up bar doing her thing and gabbing with goodMood about Charlie Sheen.  She wants to be thought of as a goddess but not enough to let me change her name from ponyTail to goddess. I'm not sure why she wants to downgrade from the exalted status of Mom but it's probably down the lines of even moms want to be goddesses sometime. Heck moms might even want to be Charlie Sheen goddesses dancing on pool tables, heads filled with illicit things GASP! Not sure where ponyTail falls on that continuum.

We'll see how the evening unfolds for both ponyTail and I :-)

Be well.

Food Labels

Not much going on, I'm pretty much waiting for Friday at 5pm, aren't you?!

I did some crunches, lifting in the gym today. Gave AT Everest a ride over to work and now am pondering food labels, this guy has a point:



Nothing in my noggin at the moment, have a great day!

Uncomplicated

Kasich gets heckled during his state of the state speech probably indicating he's on the correct track. Tressel is a dirty boy destined for gay porn as his life begins that Charlie Sheen death spiral, nah, he'll be fine. He's playing this right.

Me? I'm on this stupid spinner mulling the last few days and hoping/wondering if my latest attempt at 'steely resolve' will take this time around.

I had stumbled into the gym yesterday where I was startled to see a very happy and healthy IronMan in the middle of some P90X abomination, putting his feet on a bench, his hands on 20lb dumbbells. He does a push up, lifts one dumbbell, another push up, lifts the other dumbbell...

sigh

Shamed. It's really tough to phone it in when IronMan is in the room so I immediately give up and head for the showers.

But that was yesterday and today is today and ever since that evil girl wearing a brownie uniform dropped by yesterday evening with a mess-o-thin-mints that I stupidly ordered figuring I'd have things handled by now, that I'd get a grip... Sheen like I'd be WINNING by this moment in time...



But I'm not.

And as I pound these pedals and battle these indolent demons my mind wishes to rebut that hater on the radio yesterday who was badmouthing sports as having no value (his argument in effect was that we're taking this Tressel thing too seriously) in 'the real world.' There is oodles of value in discipline, the will to just do it. It's broken me, turned me into some indifferent burnout trying to claw my way back into caring, nah that's not it, I care but I've lost the JOY I once had in doing this stuff. It should be... uncomplicated.



You think it's over now
But this is only the beginning
It's in your eyes
Uncomplicated

Carolina vs Dook

My meeting was running long and I was getting antsy. Finally I interrupted the conversation saying, "I'm sorry but I'm guessing my father is in the driveway at this time."

"Go."

I did. Dad and I got to a very cold cottage around 1:30am, flipped on the heat, bundled up and went to bed. That morning I got up and began taking stock of the cabin. My dad is watching the news and starts joking about that BYU player, "I could have taken the team deep into the NCAA tournament, signed some big NBA contract for millions of dollars... but it was worth it!!!" I burst out laughing.

There's always something to do but since we're down here only for a few days, big projects are not practical. So I pass on the downed grape vine and hope I'll be able to use my neighbor's serious tractor when I'm down here later to rip out fifty year old vines. Instead we decide to take down one Martin house that was bent when my uncle accidentally backed into it. We then modified another house and add the gourds from the old house to the other one, creating ultra-mega-Martin-house! I made the required trip to Walmart, picking up some food and a new weather station.

Game day. Dad and I decide to burn the brush pile that's accumulated over a few years. We get that going and I stroll over to look at this million-five dollar cottage that's going up. Three chimneys, two stories, it's going to be a nice place but kinda big for these parts in my opinion.

We're sitting on plastic chairs simultaneously watching the fire burn and this dude approach us while he's walking his dog. He heads our way and I'm figuring he's just trying to be sociable but about a minute into the conversation I reevaluate him as one of those folk who live year round at the lake going quietly insane. His big issue, when he's done badmouthing some other neighbor I don't know, seems to be the dropping aquifer due to all the people living in the area and how soon we'll be in dire need of either water or dysentery treatments. He wants me to sign some paper and kick in $125 so that we can get a county line run into this area. If the application doesn't go through I get my money back. I take the form, I'm not sure I'm gonna sign it.

My father refuses to head into the lake and get a part of the dock I need if I'm going to repair it when the weather warms up. What's up with that? Yeah, the greatest generation my ass, and yeah the water was cold! So I measure it and it's 39 inches long, huh? Oh well. I take a nap and then we get ready for the game.

 We head down to Chapel Hill and visit some relatives. We eat some excellent Chinese food and I help my cousin and in doing so I get an opportunity to torment her granddaughter in facebook, my second cousin twice removed or third cousin once removed depending on which common ancestor you take through my inbred family tree. I've never met this granddaughter.

My cousin, whom I'll refer to as 'cougar' (since she's intrigued with the concept) is trying to see some pics of her granddaughter who is, simply put, beautiful. So I'm on cougar's account, root around granddaughter's photos a bit but can't figure out which ones she's talking about so, with cougar's permission, I show her how to post on her granddaughter's wall, "Where are the damn pictures?!"

She posts back on cougar's wall, "Go to my page and click under my profile picture under photos and scroll down and you will see them. Learn how to work facebook!"

Cougar is miffed and mutters something about a graduation present... so I post, "How badly do you want a graduation gift you PUPPY?! ::how to work facebook - sheesh::"

She replies with a URL to the pics and instructions, "click there and keep scrolling right and you will see them."

So we click there and scroll to the bottom where we find a picture of her acting goofy with some other girl kind of like they're kissing (they're not) so we comment on the picture, "OK I scrolled to the bottom of your profile pics and found you KISSING A GIRL! OMG"

"I dont think this is me kissing a girl. haha. this picture is 8 years old!"

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN A LESBIAN?!"

"who has hacked into my grandmas facebook? she doesnt talk like this......."

Cougar's phone starts ringing. It's her granddaughter, cougar promptly rats me out to her. I sent her a friend request, what do you think my chances are? I hug cougar goodbye. My dad and I go to the game.

Going to the Dook game is such an awesome experience! Around halftime they begin showing former Carolina players saying, "I'm Tyler Hansbrough and I am a Tarheel!" There were a bunch of them but it closed with, "I'm Dean Smith and I am a Tarheel!" with Dean looking out of one of those huge TV screens giving off that Emperor from Star Wars vibe as he gazes down on the ferret Krzyzewski with malevolence. The crowd goes wild. The t-shirts are also a hoot. This game was the loudest Carolina game I can recall and a whole lot less tense than the 2005 game which I was also lucky enough to attend, thanks to my dad.

The next day we go over to my uncle's to play scrabble.

What a great trip! ::happy sigh::

Archer

ponyTail asks in her usual direct manner, "Everything OK?" This coming after I'm obviously storming around the gym in a mood best defined as 'grumpy.' She's detected a similar vibe in my most recent posts. I'm not sure what the thorn in my side is, probably a mini Archer (a season one impulse buy at Target) binge last night that kept me up until the ungodly hour of 11pm.

While doing crunches, curls and scowling I ponder Archer, a secret agent. The show is effectively mind candy and all I can remember about it is giggling my fool head off.



Anyway like Big Bang Theory, well, no that's a dangerous comparison. I'd watch Big Bang Theory with my daughter... Archer not so much. But both shows are funny!

Below is a little snippet of why I'd probably avoid Archer/Daughter time. We'll stick to Glee.

Archer: [Wearing only a towel and baseball catcher's mask] WOODHOUSE! Do we have any lube? Like at this point even some olive oil would [finds his mother in the living room]... help me get that drawer unstuck.

Woodhouse: Sir, that stolen lemur bit one of your prostitutes right in the face and she says she can't go to hospital because she's quote, 'tripping balls.'

If you're up for something as stupid/funny as The League peep Archer out Thursdays at 10pm or buy the DVDs.

Monday Morning Storms

Rough morning for the family with the thunderstorms and the tornado warning sirens going off every fifteen minutes or so starting around 4:30am. Turns out that where we live covers three counties with our tornado sirens so even though it was only one county we all got to hear it.

My wife in kids would trudge off to the basement while I bravely shaved for work.

It was a somewhat relaxed weekend. We went to Cincy to drop in on my parents. Where I learned that my dad has become something of an iPad junkie - loving the instant on of the thing, getting to read about his beloved Tarheels and check the weather even sooner. I want one.

My folks are doing well and I was touched when my dad called Mrs. Evans to let her know he was taping a bball game for Dr. Evans to watch a bit later. Dr. Evans is having a rough go of it and he's in my prayers. Rumor has it my dad will even smuggle in the illicit beer from time to time.

This weekend dad and I head to NC to watch Carolina play the hated dook in basketball. I'm so looking forward to that!

So I'm stumbling around this morning, trying to wake up and paying attention to the orgasmic weathermen gushing all over their Doppler radars... ew... I know, right? It's kind of disgusting flipping between channels watching these guys getting more and more worked up, and kinda funny. Where I was sitting I could hear sporadic, driving rain but no tornado trains, no huge gusts of wind. I got bored and managed to catch the last fifteen minutes of John Stossel's Battle for the Future. Which was pretty interesting.

Now I'm at work, blew off the gym and am now feeling a bit guilty about that.

Signs of the Apocalypse

I blink twice as I glance down the hallway and see awesomeGirl hammering out her 300 calories on the recumbent. It's 5:30am. What's she doing here at this hour? She normally staggers in around 6am.

Another subtle sign of the upcoming apocalypse. It's the subtle ones you need take heed of, and I'm seeing more and more of them. They usually present themselves as a 'glitch in the matrix' - something not quite right. The big ones are easy to spot like being a duly elected official and running away from doing your job - that's an easy one.

So I'm doing forty-five minutes of intervals on the spinner and hammering it pretty hard when another sign appears, some 20 something chick with blond hair appears as part of the 'news alert' about the weather or something looking pretty much like the girl in the pic, except in a dress.

I glance over at awesomeGirl who's looking up at her and I start to wonder aloud what is going on? I mean look at her, it's five thirty in the morning - what on God's green earth is she doing babbling happily about the weather at 5:30am??!!! At her age she should be laying in a pool of her own vomit on some decrepit barroom floor.

Instead she's breaking my generation's rice bowl. WE'RE NATURALLY UP AT THIS HOUR! We don't like it but so what?! That job should go to some curmudgeon who will glare balefully into the camera and speak truth to power telling you to stay at home gosh darn it! We'll send some cub reporter out into the heart of the storm and you can laugh your ass off at them instead of experiencing it yourself. It'll be even better if she's drunk, hungover and covered in vomit when she's telling you, "Yep! It sure is cold, windy and icy out here! Can I go home now??!!!" Only to have the producer screaming into her earbud, "NO! We'll be back to you in fifteen minutes, which is the amount of time you have to find someplace even suckier then where you are right now!" Little miss late twenties should be outside in the freezing rain, both drunk and hungover and hating it, NOT all toasty and chipper in the newsroom! Another apocalyptic sign.

Speaking of drunken basket-cases I've been keeping my eye on Mr. Charlie Sheen of late. I think he has a point when he says that he's missed two days of work since the show started so who are we to stick our noses into what he does when he's off the clock? You have to admire his weird Hollywood morality of having some party house near his real home where he keeps the drugs, hookers and Ron Jeremy away from his kids.

Charlie apparently wants to be some OD'd has been, dead and covered in his own vomit like Elvis. At least he's being responsible about it - he's not missing work but it's evident the drugs, booze and women have taken their toll. You are not thinking right if you call up some talk show and bite the hand that feeds you by tossing your ego into the mix and telling everyone how much your producer sucks. So, CBS shuts down production to remind Charlie of who the real boss is. I guess we'll see what happens next if we decide that we care.

A good sign you're headed for the wall is if Ron Jeremy is in the frame...

Mr. Toad's Wild Ride

First the most important thing of all. Happy Birthday to my sweet wife, may all your birthday wishes come true!!!

I did 40 minutes on the spinner, some crunches and now I'm eating an apple chaser after polishing off my morning raisin bran.



I see the Indiana house democrats have joined their Wisconsin brethren, hopping on the Mr. Toad's Wild Ride bandwagon and charging merrily off to nowhere in particular. In OH the Dispatch informs me that "progress" is being made, meaning some republicans will probably cave in typical RINO fashion.

And there sit the deficits, they don't care, growing ever larger. Don't want to mess with unions? OK where do you want to cut? One of the real problems are the state pensions. Are those fair game?

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, major public pension plans paid out $78.5 billion in the 12 months ended Sept. 30, 2000. By the comparable period in 2004, that had grown to $117.8 billion, a 50% climb in five years. Beyond hiking taxes and cutting costs, governments have few ways to meet this bill.

Most of those pension plans have been negotiated by the unions and maybe it's time to dial that back a bit. I use to be mystified by all these endless levies for schools with these dire threats of cutting after school activities and what not. The reason seems to be they have to pay these pensions and so have to cut band to make that happen because they can't mess with the pension. Do I have that right? Are we gonna do anything about that? I'm increasingly doubtful that we're a serious people with legislators running away and refusing to do their jobs and everyone avoiding eye contact with the overweight deficit in the room.

Well it's my wife's bday and I hope to show her a nice time!

Kong Wubba

Layla, who's soul is as black as her fur, had me in stitches last night - over what exactly? I can't recall, but it was funny! She has this Kong Wubba that she seems to enjoy and it was late, like 8:30pm and I was trying to head off to bed with my Kindle for some late night reading about spooky Bangkok prostitute ghosts, which is a pretty serious problem over there and Layla kept laying Kong Wubba at my feet.

Have you ever witnessed the hope in a dog? Layla struggles with the wubba since it's a little large for her, tugging, tripping over the thing as she makes her way down the hall way, her head down, eyes up looking at me. She sets the thing down at my feet, steps back looking up at me her tail a waggin'.

Well? How 'bout it sailor?

I don't wanna. I want to read but how do you say no to that?

We play. I giggle a lot annoying my kids with a bunch of, "jeeze dad!"s.

I had to get gas today ::insert feeble excuse here:: etc, etc so I didn't work out today. I'm still processing my decadent ways.

I'm keeping an eye on Wisconsin but the next fight seems to be moving here. Oh boy. So let me see if I'm following the argument. The unions want collective bargaining and the states want 'right to work' which means if you don't want to join the union you don't have to. The unions can't stand that since it would hurt their collective bargaining position.

So, if the 'right to work' thingy is passed what the unions are saying is that they can't make a compelling argument to keep their membership numbers up without forcing people to join? Then, like Borders, shouldn't the unions file chapter 11 and investigate a more viable, modern model?

Fearful Symmetry

...232

Gotta ponder that bit of fearful symmetry for a bit.

So, how did you spend your weekend?

A comment from the mysterious "Andy" on last Friday's post put me into a tailspin of binge drinking, eating... ::shudders:: the horror...

Violating numerous child labor laws I hired an "actress" to reenact my lost weekend because, frankly, it was all I could afford after that bar tab.



So the link that set me off? It was an article informing me, "For the first time in history, the average annual compensation for a teacher in the Milwaukee Public School system will exceed $100,000."

I'm too hungover to comment anymore on this Wisconsin debacle at the moment.

232

I sit in my pod and gaze, without really seeing the lost souls on the side of the milk box, while eating my morning ration of Raisin Bran. I sure hope they find those poor lost puerile legislators, they must be so frightened, they can't even do their jobs.

I'm starting to wrap my head around the larger issue, which is sadly me. Two hundred and thirty two pounds huh? I've been at this exercise in futility for over two years and have lost a grand total of three pounds.

I have Philmont staring me in the eye (from a distance at the moment, thank God). It has definite weight restrictions. Will that and the fact that I've already shelled out $1,300 be enough to get me to back off the Dairy Queen?

Awash in a demonic Zulu Dawn, I've been popping them off one by one. I must be getting ready for the weight issue since I actually weighed in today. I must be thinking that the current demon that plagues me is about to fall so it's time to take aim on the next one...

232...

Me and Bobby McGee

I'll try to refrain from working out on moronic teenage Canadian eunuchs today, but no promises!

I was pretty glum on the spinner this morning hammering out 35 minutes of intervals while listening to Janis Joplin bemoaning leaving Bobby McGee in Salinas. The mind sucking TV wasn't on so I turned my thoughts to the latest wisdom from Mark Steyn.

Right now, the United States government spending plans are premised on the idea that the rest of the world, every single year, will be willing to sink the equivalent of the Canadian economy, or the Indian economy twice over, into U.S. Treasury bonds. There’s no evidence the world is going to continue to do that. And when the world decides to pull the rug out from under the dollar, you’re going to be setting up pre-revolutionary conditions here.

SUPER! And what do I see from the new congress? They decided to keep funding Amtrak yesterday and our beloved president is too busy sticking his nose into Wisconsin politics to only have time to kick out a laughable budget where high speed trains are going to save us. I'm still not clear on this economic model of spending yourself out of debt, but if I'm following it correctly then since I own a mortgage on one house in order to pay it off I should go ahead and buy that summer home in Maui... right?

It is extremely frustrating to have no one in government taking this spending crap seriously. You elect a bunch of folk who campaign on fiscal responsibility and you get Amtrak refunded? Really?! Our government seems to be hooked into Me and Bobby McGee in a big way, "But I'd trade all of my tomorrows for just one yesterday..." Methinks if we don't start seriously hacking away at this problem the dollar is going to be worth slightly less than the peso. Wont that be fun?

The Atlas Shrugged model is making more and more sense. Disengage, let it happen, find a place to hole up and ride the worst of it out ::glances nervously at my two children, we may have to learn new skills here::

Ah, whatever, never mind it's all going to be fine right? We have our best, most responsable minds on this problem right?

LOL!

Have a great weekend, I'm gonna sit and spin here for awhile longer and practice what I preach. Monday I weigh in, lets see how bad the personal bloat is... the weather is changing and maybe soon I can substitute the bike for the car and commute into work, start cutting the FAT that way...

Evil According to Bieber

So Borders has filed for Chapter 11 as have my knees and lower back. This smug seventeen year old Canadian Bieber idiot is lecturing me about how 'evil' the US health care system is prompting me to mutter, "Shut up and sing you wussy voiced soon to be has been" - while I idly fantasize about him suddenly dealing with a burst appendix on tour, hopping on his Lear and jetting up to Canada to get in line. I mean honestly can you be more stupid? It's a lot like going up to the folk in Arbys and telling them how evil they are and how much they suck compared to Tim Hortons before demanding a roast beef sandwich and expecting them not to get depraved with it before handing it to him to eat. Some other dude is on the radio telling me how completely out of control government spending is and I don't care where you fall on the political line, left, right, up, down... whatever, you can NOT spend your way out of debt.

Why isn't any of this in Revelations? Well I guess one could make the argument that Bieber is the Whore of Babylon but all the rest of this madness is simply not there.

So, how's your day? ::open, innocent smile::

I'm dragging my bankrupt knees and lower back around the gym watching Bubbles torment D-TOSRV on a BOSU ball before dragging him over to a mirror, handing him two dumbbells and ordering him to do curls while holding one leg out in front. I'm waiting for her to tell him to hop but maybe that comes later. You have to hand it to Bubbles, she's inventive in that dark, evil US health care sort of way.

While sitting on a stability ball half listening to D-TOSRV spew a litany of previous sports injuries to Bubbles as some sort of justification as to why he's struggling with her latest abomination, I tune him out, the dude is some mutant of physical health and doesn't need to 'splain anything. I'm watching ponyTail gleefully rub my nose in the fact that she can jump-rope while I look a lot like an epileptic, spasmodic monkey whenever I attempt it. I do a few more crunches until my lower back reminds me of the whole chapter eleven thing and continue shooting the breeze with ponyTail. She's telling me I must practice the jump rope if I want to master it.

mmhmm but what about Borders? I am wondering how they will cope. I love book stores and meandering through them, picking up books, drinking overpriced coffee and trying hard not to feel too smug about it all but ever since I got my Kindle I haven't exactly been chomping at the bit buying them. In fact the last book I purchased, Keith Richards Life, I actually got two copies, the hardback for laying out in the man den to impress... uh... my son I guess (?) since not many folk actually come over anymore... I need to rethink this... and the other copy is on my Kindle for actual reading. Why would I lug around a boat anchor of a book like Life when I can read it off the Kindle along with several other books that can fit my mood of the moment like America Alone?

Here's the rub though. I spent a few hours on Amazon last night trying to find something that would fit my mood before settling on a mystery about the vicious snuff industry growing in Bangkok (hopefully not an indicator of where my head's at... who am I kidding?! That's exactly where my head is at - sigh). I confess to an unhealthy interest in Detective Jitpleecheep, I mean with a name like that what's not to love and I truly enjoyed his work in previous books. But the experience is SO NOT THE SAME as browsing around a bookstore looking to be titillated.

I doubt Borders will be able to find viability in me stumbling around their stores, smugly sipping over priced coffee, finding a book and then pulling it down on my Kindle. That's a lot of floor space and clerks for that sort no return on investment. Perfect for a bailout I guess (please NO!). Maybe my local library can substitute for Borders? Not my problem but it is Barnes and Noble's and Borders. I wish them well.

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.

- Bob Dylan

Shrug It Off

I've been pretty smug on facebook of late having recently completed Atlas Shrugged after a ten year ordeal of on again, oh I lost the book (I left one copy on a plane in Oslo, Norway), off again reading. I went through about fifteen copies of the book so obviously I found it to be a tough read, but oh so worth it. Some of the parallels of what's happening today and what went on in that book are pretty spooky. Anyway free market capitalism is a good thing!

AND THEN as my wonderful nephew would say I came across this!



How cool is that? If I had just waited long enough I never would have had to read the book at all!

The movie producers promise to stay true to the book and if that turns out to be true this should be a great trilogy! The trailer looks promising. I'll shut up in a minute about this but I have to confess that I got such a kick out of Dagny Taggert in the book. This is what she looks like in the movie:

The thing about Dagny is that she loves those big ol' brains on men. If you're some sort of brainiac she'll be swooning all over you until a slightly higher IQ enters the picture. She's no dummy either but I've formed the mental image of this Mensa slut sashaying across the room towards Watson (that IBM supercomputer that's kicking butt on Jeopardy right now), leaning over the console and in a throaty whisper saying, "Please tell me you vibrate..."

Anyway, I currently swim in the Atlas Shrugged stream. Hop in, the water's fine!

Hmmmmm, at the gym the death toll continues to rise ever since I changed my deodorant.

allyMcBeal - gone!
deerHunter - gone!
IronMan - gone! ::though the promises to come back::

Who's next? Probably me but I kinda hope not.

I Denounce Myself!

Well the holidays are over and my list of addictions has grown. I'm a messy ball of misfiring synapses struggling to regain some focus. My Christmas break was pleasant but is now a receding soft point of light, like an old TV tube recently turned off.

Like Charlie Sheen on a bender I move from one event to another the most recent fiasco being Valentines Day. Sounding like some socialist loser in Atlas Shrugged I mentally shriek, "It wasn't my fault!" and it probably wasn't but so what?

My wife's flowers were suppose to look like this:

but after spending the night on the shipping dock without water ended up looking like this

Needless to say, I'm a tad bitter about the whole thing. My wife has been great about it all though.

Enough of this pointless tirade on broken dreams and wilting flowers! This morning before pushing metal in the gym I made the following discovery! As you know, I never shy from the dark underbelly of exercise (though I'm frequently disappointed since I rarely find anything dark at all), so imagine my excitement when I found The Secret Room!

It's probably not called The Secret Room but something boring like Massage Room or Maintenance Closet but what it is, is this tiny room connecting the men's and woman's locker rooms together with this bed and I don't know what it's called, a divider privacy screen thingy (?) in it. On each inside door it's labeled Men on one and Women on the other in case you get confused or something after a particularly brutal massage.

I snapped a pic with my first generation iPhone since I knew the picture would be extra grainy and make the room look even seedier! Behold!

Personally I'm shocked that I wasn't informed of a secret napping room! I like to nap too you know.

I'll see if I can actually gab more about the ungodly training I like to imagine I'll actually do to get ready for the upcoming fun this summer but at the moment I'm too busy denouncing myself and trying to screw up enough nerve to step on the bitch scales again.

baby steps...