I Built This (Waistline)

I'm in a blind rage. Why? I don't know specifically but the trigger is my company's "Health Fair." I can follow my company's line of reasoning with this stuff perfectly. They (yes the ubiquitous 'they') want to help me get to a healthier lifestyle, a lifestyle I embarked on at the beginning of this blog somehow lost the routine, the discipline and now have lost my way back. They want to drive their health care costs down and I'm all for that - you wanna misbehave, PAY FOR IT!

I have fought A LOT of addictions during my stint on this planet, I know from experience exactly what it will take to waddle my way back to a reasonable weight and at the moment I'm not willing to do it.

Last year I tried and 'tried' is a very subjective word modifying my diet. It did not take, my wife really REALLY wants me back in the gym, back on a healthy routine. I have waited almost two years to get out of this funk, this blog is littered with false starts and half attempts and I am at wits end.

What happens next is I'm going to have to show up at some other meeting and get weighed, blood tested, blood pressure etc. Then a few weeks later I'll get some email stating that I have to do such and such or pay $X. Last year I tried such and such this year will be where do I pay?

I was extremely short with my wife (sorry!) at lunch today - she doesn't deserve that static. I think it's a reflection on my disappointment in myself and my inability to kick start this process.

Fear and Loathing in Chicago Part 2 - The Cost of Art

Brad must be some sort of monster dick. Of the females I've known most would opt for calling Brad for help so they could spend the rest of their lives making sure Brad lives a miserable, wretched life. At the bottom of this post I've given an example of Jupiter in the role of 'Brad' while Venus in the role of 'The Drowning Girl' (had she chosen to survive) giving him the what for. Obviously something is seriously wrong with Drowning Girl and it's commendable that she's opted to remove herself from the gene pool in this manner.

Still, you're a dick Brad!

I'm standing in the Chicago Museum of Art staring at Roy Lichtenstein's Drowning Girl when I come to the realization that I love her. I love her so much that I bought a copy of the Drowning Girl which now hangs in a section of my ever shrinking man cave in the basement. I love her so much that I purchased a Roy Lichtenstein 'man purse' for $40 (it's black, so it's thinning THANK GOD!) to carry this treasure when my wife refused to - the bag proved useful throughout the vacation.

What attracts me (like a moth to flame) to the Drowning Girl is her total devotion to her self destructive behavior. She's the apex of narcissism opting to die rather than ask the dick Brad for help. She's so wonderfully headstrong that you've just got to laugh at her melodramatic stupidity while simultaneously admiring her stick-to-it-ive-ness to her moronic cause. One wonders, "Was it worth it?"

Truly, what's not to love?

I dug Lichtenstein. I liked quite a bit of the stuff in the Chicago Art Museum and took a lot of pictures of art and angry Hindu Gods. What I don't like, what I mock is what's called "modern art." Thankfully I saw none of that. I'm a bit of a Brad when it comes to modern art, don't try and broaden my horizons on that front or I'll annoy you with my giggling.

Jupiter's (Brad's) expression just screams, "SHUT UP!" This is what the Drowning Girl opted out of.

Popping out of the art museum we cross the street to get our kicks on Route 66.

Fear and Loathing in Chicago Part 1

The family and I recently went to Chicago for four days or so - I was going to blog the entire experience but I realized that would take forever and you rat bastards wouldn't read it. So I'll release it as exciting chapters instead!

I'm sitting in Grant Park listening to Dvořák: The Spectre's Bride. Even in English, even with zombies ("there was a dead man passing by!") I find the opera boring and unintelligible. Behind me crackles a walkie-talkie and a flood of six year old Mandarin pours out of it. I make this assumption based on the age of the girl holding the transceiver on this end of the conversation. I'm fluent in Mandarin so I was able to translate this timeless cross cultural conversation.

"Whatcha doin'? OVER!"

"I'm at this stupid opera with my mom and it is SOOOOOO BORING! What are you doing? OVER!"

"I'm watching a My Little Pony cartoon on Netflix and eating popcorn. OVER!"

"The one where the one pony quarrels with it's BFF and then they get in trouble but manage to make up by the end of the show teaching us all a valuable lesson on the power of friendship? That one? OVER!"

"Yes..."

"OH MY GOD!!! I LOVE THAT ONE!!! IT WAS THE BEST ONE EVER!!!!!"

I glance back at this eruption of frantic hyperactive yak.

GASP! "A FAT MIDDLE-AGED FOREIGN BARBARIAN IS STARING AT ME! I MUST HIDE! OVER!"

I hear the walkie-talkie snap off and I'm back to this weird opera ("Seizing her books, he threw them far: they quickly covered ten miles more.") but the siren call of the walkie-talkie quickly over came six year old judgement.

"The fat bald foreign barbarian has returned to his operatic slumber. What's happening with the ponies?OVER!"

"It's another episode. I thought you were in Chicago? OVER!"

"I am in the Peoples Chicago - the foreign devils are so in debt to the motherland that the party has given me permission to rename it Pinkie Pie City OVER!"

"PINKIE PIE IS THE LAMEST OF ALL THE PONIES AND YOU KNOW IT! Twilight Sparkle City is sooooo much better. OVER!"

"DON'T PRESUME TO TELL ME WHAT TO NAME MY CITY! Is this episode the one where the one pony quarrels with it's BFF and then one gets in trouble but her friend manages to help and they make up by the end of the show learning a valuable lesson about friendship? That one? OVER!"

"Yes..."

"OH MY GOD!!! I LOVE THAT ONE!!! IT WAS REALLY THE BEST ONE EVER!!!!! TELL ME SCENE BY SCENE WHAT IS HAPPENING! OVER!"

"Well Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash are walking side by..."

"I thought they hated each other! OVER!"

On and on it went, while zombies chase school girls in weird operas.

Safety Not Guaranteed

My wife, two old friends (the best kind) and I went and saw this movie called Safety Not Guaranteed last night. Are there zombies? No. Thor? No. Surely there were Spidermen, Batmen, Wimps, Arnold remakes? NOPE!

This is a quiet little flick about time travel - sorta - it's more about cynical, broken people finding ... hope. It's funny and well worth seeing. So see it those who tire of blockbusters.

In my neck of the woods its at the Marcus Theaters and the Drexel in limited release.

Zombies for Algernon

My boss (who needs a blog name) is entertaining another pretty cool idea, "You know Pride, Prejudice and Zombies? Hack work but suppose you applied it to Flowers for Algernon?" It has been decades since I read Flowers so I had to brush up on it a bit, it's a great, sad book where mentally disabled Charlie through an operation becomes a super genius but only for awhile and then it slowly becomes undone.

Looking concerned my boss says, "Now apply that to zombies, where you have to battle them but you're keep getting dumber!"

My boss is obsessed with zombies, probably because they'll work for brains and do what they're told once fed. Honestly I'm not sure why on the obsession but I'm intrigued by the Algernon idea and begin fleshing it out.

Mentally disabled Bill has been given an injection of a drug that makes him a super genius and he decides to share this gift with the world. Bill creates a batch of kool-aid that will make the drinker filled with super genius-osity but crosses molarity with molality (the silly) when mixing up the batch of virus kool-aid stuff (look, I'll get the terms right when I write the bastard - 'K?!) and instead of bettering mankind unleashes a zombie apocalypse.

Will Bill undo the damage he's done before he becomes too stupid to help??!! Oh look Archer's on, I've got time for that...

All I know is if there's a zombie apocalypse you might want to be near my boss if you want to stay alive, then again he might end up shoving you towards the shuffling hoard if needed. I can't vouch for the guy under those circumstances.

Neighborhood Rants er Ramps

I'm in a full blown rant with my wife while walking the dog about these sidewalk ramp skid things that are actually ADA required detectable warning systems. My issue with them is every winter they get scraped off by plows of one sort or the other and about the time fall rolls around they have them reinstalled only to have them scraped off again in winter. Rinse, repeat.

Expensive - can't you just stamp the cement?

My wife is now asking 'back to the gym' questions. I'm starting to face that harsh reality.

We wrote big misty "I miss you so much" letters to our kids in band camp last night. I mailed them this morning, I hope they buy it.

They probably will, they're delightfully goofy that way.

You've Got to Change Your Wicked Ways

Both kids are in band camp giving my wife and I a preview of what life will look like when they're bot in college except we'll be much MUCH broker. I do hope the kids are having fun at camp, my daughter looked pretty apprehensive when we left.

In the pot calling the kettle black (yes, I'm racist ::rolls eyes::) department I'm trying to make sure my son fills out all of his Eagle paperwork - that's what we're down to here - he fills it out, does his board of review and he's an Eagle. I can not seem to maintain a laissez faire attitude when it comes to this and I'm certain I'm setting a sterling example with my current apathy towards working out.

Yo son, see I'm doing something sucky so you should too!

But you're not doing it dad!

ARE YOU QUESTIONING ME?!

Yes.

::sigh:: I have entire conversations roll through my head like this and I rarely win them.

OH! This just in from Twitter:

@LuikinHugeFans FOLLOWS YOU

We aggregate all of the news stories from around the web about Nastia Luikin. We are not affiliated with Nastia Luikin... We are just huge fans!

um, yeah. This would be great if I was a huge fan (or a stalker) - I'm just a minor fan who gets the tweets Ms. Luikin wants to share. One day soon there will probably be a @HugeBillFans:

@HugeBillFans FOLLOWS YOU

We aggregate all the crap Bill has shoved into his gaping maw. We are not affiliated with Bill... We are just fans of how huge he is!

Unless I change my wicked ways.

Bike Paths and Errands

I rode my commuter bike up to Great Clips to have my hair cut today. On the way out I took the bike path and about a third of the way along it I recalled, with a smirk, goFast's hatred of them. And I agree unless it's my daughter on them, then not so much. There's a perception that the bike trails are safer but I question that, at least after you get comfortable on the road and you want to go over 15mph. With a bike on a bike path the only people who are aware of you are walking towards you. That's it. The family gaggle on six bikes ahead of you with three of the kids weaving all over the path have no clue of your existence until you get near enough to start shrieking, "ON YOUR LEFT DAMMIT!!! scaring everyone and making that five year old girl on the Barbie bike cry. As fun as that is you should save it for Halloween and get off the path. I have a bike bell which is a little better than screaming but the family gaggle should absolutely be on the path, the pace is perfect, and mom and dad can pop the necessary amount of valium without worry. The others who have no concept of invisible Bill on a bike are cars.

Not a clue

They'll be pulling out across the path so they can see if they can turn with traffic or not. They'll turn in front of you - simply put they are unaware and they hate you which is why you occasionally have some idiot pull up next to you when you're actually on the road screaming, "Get on the path you halfwit! So I can kill you by not seeing you. Here on the road I have to notice your fat lard ass!"

After weaving through a minefield of fallen apples up by the UDF I made a mental note to take the road back and actually got home much faster and safer.

I was thinking about none of this while I rode, it was kind of a background hum while I pondered Twitter. I've been on Facebook for awhile and have just started messing with Twitter - it's very cliquey and like everywhere else only the popular get heard. That's OK, one of its more practical uses is as a news or incredibly stupid things moronic celebrities say feed - you can 'Follow' people, news organizations whatever floats your boat. I tend to open twitter and let it stream off on the right of my monitor so I don't miss pearls of wisdom like this from Lauren Sivan

How many shots does it take to wake up pantsless in a SEÑOR FROG'S bathroom? "@JENNIWOWW Ask me your spring break questions"

I arrive covered in sweat cuz that's how I roll in humid Ohio. Mopping my brow with my bike glove I ask the tattooed Great Clips woman if I can park my bike in their lobby - nope - so I chained it to a sign outside. I'm in a nice area and the chain will merely inhibit the casual socialist who would think that an unchained bike is a gift to the people. My local area is trying to be (or is becoming) the Portland of the midwest when it comes to biking, but not in this area yet or there'd be a bike rack.

What's my point? I don't know. I guess if you start thinking riding your bike for errands is some "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" fantasy with Katharine Ross on the handlebars it isn't. Depending on the errand you'll need a way to secure your bike, panniers to carry all the crap you don't need from your shopping spree, water and a small towel to wipe off your sweat unless you're a girl - sweaty girls are hot, sweaty Bills are not. I'm pretty sure it's an x-chromosome thing.

Not sure where I'm going with this blogging thing - like a junkie I'm trying to find a vein.

Two Months REALLY?!

Bubbles whispers dire warnings in my ear, ponyTail entreats me to write again. My wife wants me to do ANYTHING AT ALL!

Everyone's frustrated, even the dog.

And I sit here, indolent, a sulking middle aged teenager 'zahning' the issue. Rolling it over and over like a tongue over a broken tooth (don't bite Lifesavers or you will face a crown - I'm facing two since you don't want to bite down on keys either - this public service advice brought to you by Bill and my parole officer - that should be good for say 15 public service hours).

D_TOSERV strolls by adding another straw to the camel's back ("Been riding that bike of yours? Seems like an expensive thing not to use" when receiving my negative head shake). I hate him. No, that's not accurate since he recently went through the rear window of a parked car while fiddling with a bike computer but that's his own PSA, not mine. Jealous is a nearer truth, jealous of his focus and dedication to exercise. The sheer repetition of it.

Two lousy months of not posting. I am sooooooo tired of starting and stopping - sputtering like an arthritic lawnmower trying to start. It's annoying.

I'm the 'Breaking Bad' of motivation except without the cancer and the mad meth making skills. Maybe more 'Breaking Bacon' near the edge but not quite done trying yet. My wife thinks these musings (blogging) is good for me, I agree.

I told her I'm ready to start again.

Two months.

We'll see.