I’ve lifted weights twice in the last 5 days, and here is what I can report on the subject: I don’t really care for it. You know? It frickin’ hurts, is why. I begin to see why people do steroids and HGH; I’m going to be crippled for days.
Hey, wait a second. What are the symptoms of steroid use?
- Macrocephaly (large head): already got that. My head’s a size 8+. (The plus means my head is probably bigger than an 8, but I’ve never found a hat larger than size 8 to test this theory. I just wear an 8, if I can find it, and live with the headache.)
- Shrunken testicles: Mine appear to be normal, but their functionality is highly suspect.
- Back acne: I have zits in a variety of disgusting places. (Something I’m sure you’re excited to know.) Check.
- ‘Roid rage: as the closet door in my basement can attest, I am capable of staggering fits of anger when I get frustrating.
- Sudden massive, rippling muscles: not yet.
If I’ve got all the symptoms, why don’t I just start doing the drugs? Get me Victor Conte, stat!
On a more positive note, I do enjoy the first few hours after lifting, when each of my biceps muscles are the size of a Prius. So I’ve got that going for me.
I invented a new drink a few weeks ago that I think you should try. It’s basically a White Russian, but with one slight modification. In a highball glass filled with ice, mix vodka, Kahlua, and fresh, chilled human breast milk, something we at Hearndom II have in extensive supply. I call it the “Mother Russia.”
That is all.
Someone told me not long ago that many European gentlemen “dress up.” I don’t mean that they put on their mother’s housedress and heels and dance to the Pet Shop Boys in front of a full-length mirror (though many do), but that they, well… You know how men at a tailor’s are asked “Do you dress right or left?” In case you aren’t aware, that’s code for “Do you tuck Junior down the left leg, or the right?” Apparently European dudes often point Mr. Splendiferous towards their navels. A Frenchman might put his pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us, but once his pants are on he can get pee in his nombril if he laughs too hard.
I don’t understand this at all. One of the 3 main purposes of The Deliverer is to protect the nards! When I was about ten, I was riding my bike around the neighborhood, looked down to see what gear I was in, and rode directly into the bumper of a car. I hit it so hard that instead of racking the yarbles on the horizontal bar, I actually slammed my package into the handlebar post, hard enough that I saw stars. I actually bruised my wang! That’s right: my dongle was black and blue. My sister can attest, as I later showed it to her, something that I’m sure causes nightmares to this day. I can only assume that, had Dr. Schrempf been pointed upwards, Sam and Dave would have been simply severed from my body.
The idea of habitually leaving Tweedledee and Halliburton unprotected makes my knees hurt. Has anyone else tried it?
Hey, you all read Basic Instructions, right? Start doing so, dagnabit!
I need to start taking a better camera when I go on my little lunchtime nature hikes. Hey, people who have walked the Woodlawn Estates trails near Beaver Valley Road, is there a story behind this old stone house?
Neigh.
Remember the other day when I linked you to BLDG BLOG? You need to go check out a post on there with plot ideas for Ghostbusters III. I have to say, I would watch this so hard:
It’s 1997. NYNEX is on the verge of being purchased by Bell Atlantic, after which point it will be dissolved in all but name. But all hell starts breaking loose. Pay phones ring for no reason, and they don’t stop. Dead relatives call their families in the middle of the night. People, horrifically, even call themselves – but it’s the person they used to be, phoning out of the blue, warning them about future misdirection.
Every once in a while, though, something genuinely bad happens: someone answers the phone… and they go a little crazy.
Thing is – spoiler alert – halfway through the film, the Ghostbusters realize that NYNEX isn’t a phone system at all: it’s the embedded nervous system of an angel – a fallen angel – and all those phone calls and dial-up modems in college dorm rooms and public pay phones are actually connected into the fiber-optic anatomy of a vast, ethereal organism that preceded the architectural build-up of Manhattan.
Manhattan came afterwards, that is: NYNEX was here first…
I don’t think it’d be a bad movie, actually.
It would be a
fantastic movie.
My buddy Ian sent this to me, saying, “This is one of those things that should have been invented a long time ago…” That might be the understatement of all time. This is the greatest invention ever:
Seriously, it’s up there with DVRs and EZ-Pass, the 2 previous greatest inventions ever.
Heh: ObamasPlanForGayRights.com
I’m frustrated with this Administration’s inaction on gay rights, but I haven’t yet run out of patience. Andrew has, for which I don’t blame him in the least; it’s a little more Real for him, since he may well be deported in a few years if the federal policy on HIV-positive immigration and civil marriage doesn’t change.
This president, however, is the shrewdest politician of my lifetime, and has the opportunity to be the greatest president in our country’s history. I cannot believe that he personally intends to screw gay people out of their rights; he is a Democrat, after all. He’s waiting for the right time. Why that right time isn’t now, with the right-wing elements reeling and incapable of resisting, I don’t know.
I’m not even convinced that he really believes that marriage should be “between a man and a woman.” Even if he does, I think he’ll come around on it, particularly as more Americans do the same.
Today’s Dilbert slayed me, so I’m sharing it with you. Enjoy.
I ambled over to TweetPsych.com and got a nifty
psychological analysis of my tweets. Things it revealed:
You often talk about the physical characteristics of things.
Uh…okay. I’m not sure what this means. If you’re talking about a thing, seems like the physical characteristics of it would come up.
You talk about yourself a lot.
Obviously. I’m as self-centered as anybody. Also, it’s
Twitter. It doesn’t lend itself well to profound theological thought, unless Nietsche came back to life.
You express plenty of negative emotions.
I’m 30-something American male. It’s how we roll.
You often make references to physically upward movement. Like upstairs, climb, etc.
I don’t know what the hell this is about. Oh wait, yes I do: I have a secret life as an escalator salesman. Subconsciously, it must come out in my Twitterin’.
