OH!…

…SHIT!!!!

So you know that race I ran a few weeks ago where I was trying to run 100 miles? Yeah…they miscalculated the exchange and we ran 83.4 miles instead. That means I damaged my body for little more than a “guess what I did” story that if I did tell people, they would certainly believe I am an idiot for such an endeavour. No 100 miles to log for future registered races or medals to hang in the office. Nope, just a beaten body and sparse memory of the journey itself. But…

I’M OKAY!!!

There will be other races and other chances. Thanks for all the well-wishes. Love you all!

The next beer vlog will be up in a couple of days. Get prepped for some awesome possums!

Nothing Is Ever Easy

Well, I survived the race to Spokane and I think that is really saying something because three people were hit by cars and one died. I still have to say that out loud because doing something so fun with such amazing people, death shouldn’t be a factor and it is hard for me to believe that happened. But, in a 185 mile race over a 24 hour period, there is an element of danger. But this really put a dark cloud over our celebration at the finish.

So, I will talk about the race later. It was a lot of fun and my team comprised some of the most talented and insanely fast runners I have seen. They made 7 mile stretches seem like a 500 yard dash and that’s being modest. I really wish I could have been quicker but sadly I had to run on a stress fractured heel and I just couldn’t get out of second gear. I am still Pissy McPissface about it.

On another note, have you ever noticed when you are in a rush, nothing will work in your favor? It happened to me in a Target yesterday. Now I was still a little tired from the weekend but this five-minute errand turned into a whopping thirty minute campaign I like to call Operation “Losing My Shit”. All I needed was wrapping paper, a card and tape. Sounds easy. It was not.

This seemed like a one-stop-shop aisle where all my needs should be fulfilled. Well, not really. I guess I was in such a rush I just couldn’t seem to find anything anywhere and that, for some reason, pissed me off. And I never get pissed about such things so I don’t understand why I went so Incredible-Hulk-on-shirt about this. Perhaps it was because finding tape under five bucks was like finding Bigfoot.

Well, this is turning into a pretty lame story so I will get to the part that made me want to write this in the first place and take pictures of tape.

No matter what, in the grocery store, I will always be in line behind the old lady who has a coupon for everything in her cart, needs price checks on generic canned cat food and after an agonizing wait, she will reveal her checkbook and demonstrate her cursive writing skills. This doesn’t bother me. Not in the least. But when you chose a line because you have wandered through the gift wrap aisle like a paraplegic in a game of “Marco Polo” and the phone is going berserk from people wondering why you are late, you try to pick the shortest line available. But that proves futile if the person infront of you is this guy.

For the sake of anonymity, just in case this is a reader’s Uncle Lou, I put an LOL cat over his face. Man, this guy could not figure how to pay with the credit card machine. If President James K. Polk was flung from his time to present day and told to pay for this detergent, I am pretty sure he could have figured it out before this guy did. It was tough to watch and that is when my patients waned and got the best of me. On his tenth attempt to not press the giant red ‘CANCEL TRANSACTION’ button, I blurted “jumpin’ Jesus on skates”. He looked at me with a defeated face and said, “I’m sorry”.

There aren’t many times I truly feel like a total asshole (though that may shock a few people) but when it happens I hate myself. I hated myself right then and there.

So, the moral of the story is be excellent to each other. Even if you can’t find cheap tape.

Gone Runnin’

So tomorrow I’ll be running a 24 hour race and I’m pretty sure it will kick my ass 6 ways to Sunday. Is that right? Or is it 7 ways to Sunday? Saturday? I don’t know, the point is, I won’t be able to wish you a Happy David Bowie Day because I will be delirious and possibly believing we are  not in August but rather grape.

Now I know it has been changed from the original date but I had to because I forgot. Damn the truth sucks. So make sure on Saturday you sing “Ashes to Ashes” in the car and wave to a Chinese girl. I am currently looking for a Bowie remix to run to.

And on David Bowie day, this is not to be talked about AT ALL! I just watched the whole thing and it broke my Gay-dar. Now I need to go all the way to Boise to find a Sharper Image and replace it. Damn. It’s all Mick Jagger’s fault.

Present Self to Future Self

I just wanted to capture this moment and preserve it in a blog so I can look back from the future and say, “wow, that was worth it”. It’s inconceivable at my current state to believe so, but given time, I thing it will happen. Almost as if I am shouting to my future-self saying, “FUTURE-SELF! YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME!” I can feel him reading this now. That smug bastard.

Or wait, what if I am to be future-failure-self and all this is for not? What if I am burning present-self to oblivion and future-self is reading this shouting, “STOP! STOP! I’M A DAIRY FARMER IN SACRAMENTO! YOU DON’T NEED ANY OF THIS!”  To that I say…I need to get back to present-self. Fuck off future-self.

I am sure that future-self hates me right now and I get that. I look at past-self with a semi-satisfactory opinion and I don’t believe that is too out of the ordinary. I mean who doesn’t strive to better each day so there is no way that future-self can be reading this without an eye roll or two. Some of past-self’s actions deserve ball punches with extreme prejudice and I am hoping future-self is not as critical from this point forward. And now I am done writing on this.

I was watching Caddy Shack for the 400th time yesterday and I thought I had just about every line committed to memory until I caught the a subtle interaction between the Judge and his grandson, Spalding. It’s very quick but it is now my new favorite quote.

Spalding (teeing off but doing poorly): “TURDS!”

Judge: “Spalding watch your language!”

Spalding: “Sorry Grandpa.”

(Tries again) “DOUBLE FARTS!”

Well, I managed to cross the 100 mile per week running goal and I think this will be maintained for the foreseeable future. I am really surprised how good I feel, though. There is little soreness, the feet are fine, no knee and back issues and the runs are at a quick pace. The military side of me believes I am not pushing myself hard enough because without pain there is no gain but the 32 year old side of me is knocking on wood while doing the Bartakomous’s, “dance of joy”.  This may culminate catastrophically but really, do I do it any other way?

NEW FAVORITE SHOW!

I was watching Bert the Conqueror last week and I am a huge fan. He reminds me of someone and it is bugging the hell out of me that I can’t think of who. Regardless, this show is great and I highly recommend it. So watch it. That’s an order.

Come Visit Summertime Here

It’s official! I am on the summer countdown now. The snow and ice in North Idaho has taken this southern boy from happy-go-lucky to Pissy McPissface in less than three months. And after looking at the week forecast that is calling for snow, I have decided to light up a pinacolada candle, put on some Hawaiian surf rock, lather up in Banana Boat and start the mind trip to late May. Here is your Summer fun list for 2009.

MOVIES!

meatballsHoly shit this is a great movie! Sure the more sophisticated summer movie connoisseur would pick Caddy Shack if given the choice of Bill Murray movies but there is something about camp that gets me in the summer mood. It kind of sucks that I am too old even to be a counselor but it brings back so many great memories. Memories like late night practical jokes on other cabins, the nervous tension of being forced to spend a week bunking with kids you don’t know, the sadness of the last campfire, and how we all thought the counselors were so cool and the subject of camp rumors and gossip. I still remember thinking that a blow job was something done to an ear. I want that innocence back.

THE POOL!

There are three different but distinct pool days I have in my memory.

jeremy_in_kiddie_pool1Rumor has it this kid was in mid-stream when this picture was taken. That’s a lie, but it kind of looks that way, huh? Anyway, I grew up in a neighborhood that didn’t have a community pool so we were forced to jump through the sprinklers or breakout what my Dad called the “yard killer”; the kiddie pool.  I remember these plastic pools from K-Mart to be as much fun as they look above. Even for an only child who had an imagination that could keep him entertained for an eternity during Catholic mass, this pool, with floating pine needles and drowned yellow jackets, really sucked. Especially when you have a friend over and the suck is multiplied by two. Ugh! I can still smell the hose water and see the pool toys that were just fancy McDonald Happy Meal boxes in the shape of boats.

81007407_9ae4b944e7The next step up is being invited to the friend’s neighborhood pool. That’s an exciting summer day.

100_0338_0022_022Wow…sharks and minos, underwater tea parties, chicken, handstands, cannonballs, jackknives, and of course my famous 1/3 flip off the diving board. That’s always good for a laugh. I also remember the packed lunch and how Hi-C, peanut butter sandwiches, Doritos and Sunkist Fun Fruits never tasted so good. I tried it the other day and it just isn’t the same without chlorine and uncontrollable shivering.

Being a grown up now, the pool is a different place than it was when I was a kid.

pool-party-1996-3-customFirst off, it’s a place I generally drink beer and read. Those are the two things I didn’t do when I was a kid. Also I rarely go into the water because it is usually occupied by 12 year olds and that age group really pisses me off in recreational environments. It’s just a great time to catch up with a good book, drink a dozen beers and sweat them out while working on a one-sided tan because I hate laying on my stomach. I can never get comfortable. Are you suppose to stick your face between the chair straps?

BOATS!

orca

Boats are great with the right people. You need fun couples or perhaps your drunk buddy who constantly impersonates the scene in Forest Gump when he spots Lt. Dan on the dock and wave/walks off the side of his own vessel. But one summer I spent a week on a houseboat with my best friend at the time and his family. Sounds great, right? Well…they were from Great Britain and we had a steady diet of bake beans and toast and Christmas cake (fruit cake with icing). Oh yeah, and I was stung by a bunch of wasps while tying the boat to a tree trunk. It was a C- week at best.

SUMMER FOOD!

The other day I was having dinner with some friends and we barbecued steak and corn on the cob. It hit me when I confused the texture of the corn with the steak and the tomatoes in the salad and also the baked potato, that I miss food that is in season. Here are some yums we get to look forward to in the next few short months.

oogies1Anything that comes in one of these is great. If it is served by this guy it will be a minor explosion of amazing.

371Pasta salad is the must at all outdoor activities that includes food. If I am present at a picnic and the is no pasta salad expect me to remove the picnic blanket and use it as a cape as I run around and step on the rest of the food. Expect it.

80775820_aguty-s-3Couple of dogs and a beer. It’s hard to imagine lips, assholes and yeast to be a summer must but it is. Especially at a weekday 1pm Cubbies game when you skip work to go. “Heyyy batta batta, sawingg batta!! He can’t hit he Can’t hit he can’t hit…”

watermelon31Quarter sliced watermelon that is wrapped in Reynold’s Wrap. Don’t know why but this is summer to me. But every time I eat watermelon I get a dull pain in my tongue from a watermelon eating race gone bad back in 1985. I remember I bit my tongue and lost the race. As I sat there in failure, holding ice wrapped in a paper towel on my tongue, I was awarded a “nice try” gift. It was bubbles. Insult!

BASEBALL!

minor_league

Spring training cranked up and baseball is only a few short weeks away. But here in Idaho I have to rely on minor league games for my live game fix. That’s cool. Maybe they’ll have a “bring your horse day” or something. There is a reason that Field Of Dreams was not filmed here. The line “..is this Heaven?” would not be followed by “No, it’s Idaho”. I believe it would be, “No…are you fucking high?”.

OUTSIDE RUNNING!

2005hsupennes1

This is one I sorely miss. Soon I will not have to make the choice to run in the morning when it is 15 degrees out or wait until night when it is 22 degrees out. No longer will I be five miles out and step in a slush/ice puddle and have to finish with a frozen foot. I mean, a real frozen foot. No, soon it will be perfect for hauling around the lake and getting a tan.

OUTDOOR MUSIC FESTIVALS!

outdoor_concertsDo I really need to expand on this one? It’s part of the reason the Earth tilts on it’s axis, you know. But remember, if you see Megadeth this summer, leave the laser pointer at home. See below. I’m pretty sure the guy in the audience is no longer with us.

Now I know what you’re thinking, why did he not include the beach? Well, I did. Last year and you were with me. Remember? Click Fizgig for a memory jog. Remember, just because it’s minus 2 outside it doesn’t mean we can’t get dream. If you need me I’ll be refreshing my surfer language with slang note cards. Check it out here. We have finally dumbed down English that even the retards have note cards. Don’t forget Fizgig click!

fizgig6rr1

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