Ass!

That's what I worked off tonight at the gym.

Hoo boy. Boy oh boy oh boy. You should hear Henley chuckle when I describe my calf's condition, and remind him of the date of the race (January 15).

Yeeeah. I tell him I've run eight miles all of once, and he chuckles. Says I'm "undertrained," tells me not to judge my potential in future races by how much this one is going to suck.

***

That's where the pain was tonight when I tried to register our domain name for Juke. Grumble grumble. I think it's a Mac thing. I'll try to get it straightened out tomorrow at work.

***

Jeez, I just THOUGHT that business about the coffee pooped out by some Indonesian critter sounded un-appetizing. Yeeeah. Then Nadine left a comment referring to it as "ass coffee."

I stand corrected.

(Thanks for stopping by though, NF!)

***

And you know, I like Kevin Smith, the writer/director. I do. I usually enjoy his movies (though I admit I didn't bother with Jersey Girl). He's honest, puts together a good story, makes me laugh, makes me blush. Yeah.

But he's got this blog... I think it's silentbobspeaks.com or something (I've got it bookmarked at work). This is a guy who takes his honesty WAY too seriously.

He talks about bowel movements, masturbation, the specifics of his weight problem, the details of his romps with the wife... and really, he's hit a new low the last couple of days with entries featuring the phrase "anal fissure." Dude... you saw a PROCTOLOGIST for a PAINFUL PROBLEM. You should KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

And still I keep reading his stuff.

Clearly, I'm out of my mind.

***

And you know... who wears a thong to the gym anyway?

(Hint: It wasn't me)

***

And now that my own backside is tingling from sitting on the floor too long, I say, "So long, farewell, happy trails," and all of htat.