it's Xmas time and that can mean only one thing: Christmas songs.
But i know what you're Saying... You're asking how the fuck am i gonna combine my love for smooth 80's jams while simultaneously embrace the season? With just three simple letters my mostly honky friends:
Kenny. Fucking. Loggins.
Loggins and I are keepin' it smooth this Xmas. Then later we might get all fucked up on tequila-nog and cruise for some Mrs. Clauses, ain't that right, Loggins? Those chicks LOVE the beard.
{high fives Loggins}
See, Loggins here knows that this time of year a bearded mutherfucker like him can get some MAD action. C'mon Loggins, let's go hit the food court and mess with the Cinnabun girls...
(**this post inspired by an awkward combination of Clerks 2 and a secret desire for Kenny Loggins to be my Silent Bob)
If i could say just one thing about running 4 miles through a freshly fallen 10 inches of snow, it would be "don't."
Of course i wouldn't listen to me either. So i sauntered into my boots and sweats (yes, for the first time in years, i forwent the token B-ball shorts. Me. The person who NEVER runs in full length pants, no matter the temperature, had to sport the sweats.)
Mile one, westward, was fine. Fun even. I felt like Rocky in Rocky IV. I was probably moving a pace too fast to sustain, but then again i don't get a lot of opportunities to snow-train.
Mile two, southward, times are getting tough. The hills of this route seem to be of no consequence, be them up or down, when you're trudging through this madness. There's definitely 10 inches of snow on the ground but the wind has distributed it such that 25% of the surface is closer to 4 inches deep while another 25% is closer to 18 inches.
Mile three, eastward, and the cold, hard reality sets in: I will die out here. Okay, probably not, but i finally break down and walk sections of this mile. And by "walk" i mean continue my tedious high-step, forward-stumble, but at a slower cadence. It's become important that i stay in the fresh stuff because the few areas that have been disturbed by people have more a packed substance that only has interest in snapping my ankles. Also, mile three has more side streets, meaning more 4ft-tall plow-derived mounds of snow at each intersection. I don't remember most of this mile.
Mile four, northward, turning into the wind. At this point i'm requesting assistance from which ever one of your gods happens to be in the office this afternoon. In return he/she grants me a second and final wind. Every kick into the snow creates a plume of flakes that the wind puts back in my face. Mile four is on a busy, semi-major road, meaning LOTs of driveways and LOTs of snow banks to be climbed. When i AM running i'm pumping my arms so hard and far that it's approaching cartoonish, in a failing attempt to supplement my oh so weary calves, which don't seem to have the will left to keep me bounding out of these drifts. Passing cars appear to be slowing down, either to offer assistance or make a grab for my wallet when i go down... hard to say which but i try to stay moving to detour both.
At some point i round the end of mile four and sprint the short distance back to the cave. I celebrate the success my throwing myself into snow and seriously consider staying there for the night.
I am hurt from running like i haven't been hurt (from running) in a long time. I can't wait for the next time.
It seems the snow-pocalypse is upon us. I shall use this time off work combined with the inability to leave my cave as an opportunity to drop knowledge:
It seems the Sophist will continue to make batteries next year. Although bush is still a dick, he does seem to have settled down in the last few months of his reign. I've seen this exact same thing in a-hole co-workers that are getting ready to leave for a new job. Interesting.
Regardless, things are still looking dicey. Anyone else notice that Chrysler shut down all production with no solid timing for coming back on line?
In other news: Scientists read your brain's images. Scientists: Stay away if you know what's good for you
Which leads us to...
Angry three-way sex you never knew you wanted to have:
It's almost time to compile my 2008 year in review. This one's been a little dicier than years past. (Much was learned; many miles accumulated.) Let me see if i can summarize...
Hot tubs, motorcycles and tattoos: Good Theoretical money, the PO-lice and human emotions: Bad
I'll now spend the day working on my projects. I can't reveal the nature of the work yet, but it involves high voltage and 1940's Russian technology.
(fuck it's snowy out there... might be time for a run)
Today i had drinks with four people whose common career, though technical in nature, could not be any farther than my own; They might as well have been rocket scientist. New to the group and content to drink my beer, i listened as they lamented over the latest work strife. It would seem the biggest grief lay in the lack of attendance at this year's Christmas party, which the leader of the conversation would chalk up to the social problems of the time.
To be fair, it's not those people's fault that their very existance made me want to flip the table. How could they know that i justed watched a union slow-down exeucted in the midst of economic face-punch? (How can you file grievences against a company that doesn't exist, you short-sited fucks!)
Instead i thought back on the six years since college. I thought about the year of unemployment the four of us shared after returning to our parent's spare bedrooms and the resulting ability to recite the drink specials for every night at every bar within a 10 mile radius. I remembered the 72 hour weeks at the factory in Warren and the 20 hour weeks at the golf course in Taylor. ("really? an electrical engineering degree? what are you doing working at a golf course?") And i thought about how happy i was when i finally dug my to this job.
But mostly, while drinking my beer, i thought about the lay-offs; How many coworkers has it been? Could i remember all their names? (no) Not all of their faces were as vivid as Joe's, who, after all had a family. It wouldn't have been so bad if the boss hadn't TOLD me he layed off Joe so i could stay. I mean, three rounds of lay-offs this year/job alone... they start to all blurr together.
It's hard pin point my favorite part of this article on lottery winning... is it the "tit tat" reader comment after the article or actualy seeing the tattoo-adorned boob? Is it the way god filled the multi-million-dollar shaped hole in his soul?
Or maybe it's the way he still spends those 10 dollars a day on the lottery that makes me want to laugh/cry.
He is an inspriation to us all!
Note to self: 1) win lottery (one time equivalent to $82k/yr for 60 yrs) 2) (does more math) Marry 16.1 yr old single mother 3) profit
