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No waaaaaay...

7/17/2013

Listening to Jay Mohr on Adam Carolla and I hear them start talking about treadmill jogging in the hotel "gym". Specifically, when you put your 20 minutes in but the guy next to you got there before you and looks like he's never going to stop, so you have to run for like three goddam years because you can't leave before he does or you are, essentially, a loser. So true. Somehow, when I'm on that damn treadmill I can marathon like one of them crazy-ass Mexican Indians who run 80 miles just so they can harvest one ear of corn. It's really the only time I can actually jog. For real. If I try and run around the block at home I have a coronary in the first half mile. I'm thinking I should hire one of those fat ladies who walk on the hotel treadmill all night to hang out in my basement on my elliptical and motivate me. Treadmill hogs piss me off. But that's not why I'm typing. I'm typing because I think I may just retire from the internet. Again. Seriously, there has been no movement forward on any front in the almost ten years that I've been masturbating in public. In fact, things have just gotten worse. You would think, by this point, given the mass amounts of information available, that people wouldn't be so damn stupid. You'd be wrong. All that information is actually making people more stupid. You see, now people have to willfully ignore any fact that disagrees with their particular twisted fantasy world. It takes actual effort on the part of these assholes to be this fucking stupid. It only takes a little bit of effort to become an expert in anything. Really. When they say 95% of life is just showing up, they mean it. Most things are easy. Really easy. If you practice, you will get good. If you practice being a complete fucking imbecile, guess what? (Now I know that the imbeciles out there won't get this, but that just proves my point.) You're a fucking imbecile! It really doesn't matter what side of which political theory you may or may not be able to spell. Although most of the shitheads who "BELIEVE THINGS DEEPLY", are from one particular side of the aisle (and it's not the side that believes deeply in things like God), it isn't limited to that particular group of dumbshits. But it's real close. Real close to being limited to a bunch of goddam loons who are stuck in the late 70's Romper Room TV show. Kill your television and turn off your phone. You stupid fuck.
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Palate cleanser

7/09/2013

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So where do I start?

7/06/2013

Lessee, My oldest son reported to the US Military Academy at West Point last week as a New Cadet for Cadet Basic Training. Which means, he's in a 47 month-long program to turn him into an officer in the US Army. It's always been his dream, at least as far back as I've had this here blog, so I am extremely happy for him. Also, very... VERY worried. The Prince is a weird animal. He never liked toys, wasn't a huge fan of video games, didn't like playing a spot position on a team sport, and wasn't really a big "practice" guy. On the other hand, give the man a goal and, if he bought in, he'd make it. That's not to say he didn't occasionally drop the ball, he did, but in the main, if you wanted something done you'd ask the Prince. The "buy in" was important (not as important as it was with me), if he thought what you were asking him to do was bullshit, it would get done (there's the big difference between him and me), but adequately instead of perfectly. He did everything he had to do to get what he wanted, and subsequently he actually got what he wanted. I'm very proud. Of course, now he's gone and out of asshole nowhere I suddenly have a list of stuff that I wanted to do and say and places I wanted to take him and things I wanted to teach him. Too late maddad. Too late. I guess someone else will teach him the stuff I didn't, and he'll go to the places I wanted to take him with someone else, and as for the things I wanted to say... fuck it, he can guess. I know I have the other three boys, but you have to realize that those guys have their own damn personalities. I got other stuff to do and say and places to go and things to teach them. And I'll remember what exactly all that stuff is approximately two days after they each move out. Par for the course, maddad. Par for the course. Learning to golf would have been nice. We were going to learn to golf, so we could golf. But my back screwed up the three weeks I had two kids interested in golf. I would have liked to enjoy fishing. But I am no fisherman (or woman), can't play the guitar, hate rap, not a huge camper, jogger, horseback rider or math genius. Not anything he spent time doing, really. Hiking was cool. I'll have to hike with the rest of them.
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