Thoughts on the Animal Planet

Nolan: Sharks always swim where pirates sail. Sharks follow a regular boat in the ocean and if a person goes in the water they can get killed by a shark.

Elliot: why are the sharks in the water?

Me: Because they live there.

Elliot: those are little ones? Why them not bigger?

Me: Because they haven't had time to grow yet. Like you're not as big as me.

Nolan: I have. Hammerheads are cool because they have, like, a hammer face head.

Elliot: Them funny. they can't talk. Because they can't talk. (hammerheads)
Why they taking dogs to doctors?

Little Late

Regretfully, regarding my last post, and extremely belatedly: Nevermind.

Game On!

It is the magic number, after all. April 30-ish? Seems like a good time to have a birthday for a kid, eh?
-- promise that i'll get less crpytic as time allows.

If it's shiny

"If it's shinier, then I can sleep better. If it's darker, then I can't. The shinier it is, the better I can sleep."
No kidding, man. No kidding.
I decided not to close the door. I decided to let teh longer daylight fade naturally even though it might mean a few extra trips up the stairs with the same recommended, repeated message. Bed time. Time to go to bed. Crawl into bed. Simple mantras repeated for as long as it takes. Bed Time. Time to go to bed. Crawl into bed.
If you don't sleep I'll take babies away. Oops. Did I say that?! Shitballs. I get two parent demerits and another spot on the gameboard to hellsville.
Still.
"When it's shiny, I don't feel like sleeping."
Wait a minute. Now you're screwing with me.
Love,
Dad

Workday Challenged I

The Challenge:
Worst/Best/Worst Again Pickup Line Phrased in Awkward Language Guaranteed to Get Shot Down:

The Response(s):
EXT. CITY PARK DOG RUN. DAY
A man ambles up to a woman with her dog on a leash sitting on a park bench.

Man: Is that dog a drug dog?
Woman: What?

Man: Is that dog a drug dog because if love is the most powerful drug of all I think I'm OD'ing on you and I don't want your dog to turn me in to the DEA before I've gotten your phone number.

Woman: Um...

Day Anything

With all apologies to Dobler 'n' shit.
I'm not nearly organized enough with this effort yet to say which day it is of my training regimen. Hell, I can't even be arsed (thanks, The British!) to remember what day the triathalon for which I'm training will be held.
Nevertheless (thanks, evolving English language!) I ran a mile today (see also "A Mile! A Damn Mile!") and then I rode 2.5 miles right afterward. Now, this would be even more impressive if I wasn't Shanghai'd (thanks, Chinese city with a stereotypical penchant for piracy and kidnapping!) by my neighbor who proceeded to tell me about a tirathalon she read about in the Ferndale Mirror ("or was it Woodward Talk?" she mused aloud -- thanks, Literary Pretension!) as well as regaling me with her insider information on "cow flop bingo" ('fascinating!,' say top critics!). Since she waylaid me for like 5 minutes, I had a chance to rest. Catch my breath. Making it less impressive a feat of training. Nevertheless (see also, earlier paragraph kudos), I kept the rock a' rockin' this Monday despite the 30 degree temps.
Ah, shit, the kids are ruining each others paintings. Gotta jump.
Smell ya later. (thanks 5th grade playground!)

Meta Lamest Post Ever

So, I just updated my My Space profile. That killed like 10 whole minutes. Hopefully, that'll lead to a network of people killing at least 2 or 3 minutes reading and/or commenting on it. That's my ultimate goal, really. To kill all time.
Then I'll start working on space. No, wait. If I kill my time and My Space, have I killed time and space?! Do I even exist anymore?! Holy Shit!

A Mile! A damn Mile!

Yeah, I said it. I ran a damn mile today. Ran. Think about it: My exercise for the past, oh, 15 years has consisted of only the necessary exertion to get from point A to point B. I did have a brief run-in with the Royal Oak YMCA in my early married years wherein I ran and swam and lifted weights and watched Judge Judy on the TeeVees in the elliptical room or read whatever months-old Redbook they had on hand.
But that was a bonafide anomaly.

Today, I OWNED Geary Park! I ran around that fucker! My sweet new shiny New Balance's and my sweet shiny new discount rack jogging suit (yeah, I got a jogging suit!) should have inspired me to be all like (cue "Eye of the Tiger") "Chris! ChrisChrisChris! ChrisChrisChris! Chris Chris Chriiiiisss!"

Instead, I was singing soft-rock classics in my head. I'm hoping to work "One Night in Bangkok" into my little in-head feedback loop next time. That, of hook up "Half Blood Prince" on Audio CD. Nothing says "I was a-runnin'" like thinking about Horcruxeses.

Anyhoo, I hopped in the Vibe (I miss ya, LeSabre) and it was 1.1 miles! I rule (in a way).
That is all. For now. The Road to Stony Creek (where I'll be doing a sprint triathalon in September) will be a recurring embarrassment right in this very space.