.....That's all I got. I don't really have anything to follow that. Just be happy with what you have, nobody likes a greedy person.
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I recently started going to the gym consistently, [insert heavy sarcasm] as I'm sure all of you can tell. My favorite part of the routine by far is just watching the characters that work out there. The highlight of my week is going right after my class on Tuesdays, and I'll tell you why. Every Tuesday there is a girl that comes in for no other reason whatsoever than to impress a guy. I have to give the credit to another guy in the gym that pointed this out to me, because it is priceless. From the get-go, this guy strikes you as a superhuman. I'm assuming from the scrubs he's a doctor (otherwise just a very creepy fake), and probably one that cuts out his own heart, transplanted it into a dying patient, finished the operation, and is now just running on pure awesomeness. Basically the kind of guy who pats you on the back, and you list it on your resume. The girl is actually very attractive, but must have some serious daddy issues. Her structured workout plan is to use whatever machine is immediately next to whatever the guy is using. This gets almost unwatchable when he's using the bench and she's trying to get the weights onto the bar. Anyway, this goes on for about an hour, the entirety of which she is forcing out little blurbs of conversation. It's brutal, especially considering that her facial expressions when she's actually doing the workouts....well, let's just say they're not winning any beauty pageants. It's like going up to do karaoke and just whistling the whole song. It already sucks, and you're just making it worse. I think the most brutal part, as pointed out to me by a staff member there, is that she doesn't noticed that he's married.
I've been doing a lot of driving lately, and that's a lot of time to think. (when I'm not blessing the word with my angelic singing, that is.) I've realized something about being on the road. Now I'm sure you've all had those experiences where you've never seen a person before at all, but something happens and you immediately feel like you know that person, and feel like they're your friend. Most of the time you're wrong. Actually I'd say you're always wrong. It's okay, I'm wrong too. Anyway, one of these instances occurs when you're driving on the interstate for long distances. Actually there are two times this happens, for me at least. The first is when you're driving for a minimum of three hours, and you're with the same car(s) the whole time. You're dodging the same speed traps, passing the same people, and going the same speed. Well sometimes one person is going a little faster than the other, but you speed up to stay with them because hey, you're friends and you can't let them do this alone. The other instance is when somebody on the highway has the exact same car as you. Same make, same model, same color. Bonus points if it's the same year. It may just be me, but when I find myself a situation where either of these are true, well hot damn, I've got a new brother. In my mind, these guys/girls are here to stay. They have my back. If a cop starts chasing them, by damn I'm gonna run him off the road, and I'm sure they'd do the same for me. However, it does get painful, because the journey comes to an inevitable end, and usually the jerkoffs leave without even saying goodbye.
Has anybody else noticed a trend of saying "me like" in rap songs instead of "I like"? I mean I know that rappers aren't rappers because they majored in english, but I'm pretty sure you learn that level of grammar right off the bat. It hurts to listen to, but I can understand when they use bad grammar to make the syllables flow better or even to rhyme, but "me like" and "I like" have the same number of syllables. What's the excuse here? It doesn't even sound better! It just makes you sound like a monstrous idiot. Unless Nicki Minaj is saying it. Then it just sounds like an infant trying to talk. Which to be honest isn't that far from the truth.
For those of you keeping pace with the blog, you know how I feel about cereal. For those of you who have no clue what I'm talking about, click here and read the first paragraph of this blog to catch up. Anyway, while in a state of delusion and incredible hunger, I made a trip to the grocery store (mistake 1). Among my completely irrational list of purchases including six boxes of pop tarts (that's 48 pop tarts for you math whizzes) and four bottles of italian dressing, I decided I would lower my guard and give cereal another shot. I've been hating on it for a while now, as my friend Captain Crunch can tell, and being the fair and reasonable human that I am, I wanted to see if maybe I'd been at fault before. I wasn't. Cereal sucks. Hard. I hate it, and it actually makes me mad to eat it. That's why as of today, I am declaring all out war on Kellogg's, General Mills, Post, Quaker Oats, Malt-O-Meal, and every other breakfast ruining manufacturer out there. I will not stop until all of you are out of business and possibly dead. You have been warned.
I've been thinking, and I want to have a slogan. Like for myself. Just in case I ever need to be on a billboard. So far, this is what I've come up with for options:
-TAB: Six feet and three inches of average.
-TAB: Eats more bacon than the Northern Hemisphere.
-TAB: It's not my fault.
-TAB: Just like you, but better.
-TAB: ....Probably not a zombie.
The other morning I woke up hungry. Stay with me, it's get even more intense. "Woke up hungry" is probably the wrong way to say it. I wake up hungry every morning. This time, the hunger woke me up. And it was furious. I woke up, and before I could even process where I was, I had the urge to start eating anything and everything within reach. Luckily, I have a near unbreakable will power and extremely high level of self control. (Side note: neither of those are true whatsoever, and may in fact be completely false.) I leapt out of bed and went straight to the kitchen, determined to eat the first thing I saw. I did. Protein powder, when dry, may be one of the most disgusting things I've ever put in my mouth. I powered through, though, and moved on to the refrigerator. Long story short, I ended up with a half pound of ribs and bacon breakfast sitting in front of me, waiting to be demolished. And oh how glorious it was. If you've never woken up around 8am and kicked of your day with two deliciously carnivorous meats soaked in grease and/pr barbecue sauce, I highly recommend it. No, I demand it. In fact, do it tomorrow. Either that or you belong in PETA, and if you know anything about m how I feel about PETA. We have slightly differing views. They do their thing, and I stick to the motto "There's room for all God's creatures......right next to the mashed potatoes."
Speaking of PETA, I was surfing the twitter ocean the other day and came upon PETA's twitter. I clicked on it to see what ridiculous, illogical and immoral nonsense they were coming up with. After reading a few tweets, I decided to respond. It's not what you think!! I responded in logical, well though out tweets, designed to be unoffensive and legitimate. At first. Then it got out of hand. End result? I've now been blocked. That's three blockages for those of you counting. (The other two are some Barney fraud and Jesse McCartney.)
Yesterday, while scavenging through my barren kitchen, I found a lone can of tuna. The problem came when I realized the only bread I had was the 2 end pieces. The end pieces of a loaf of bread are like the cousin -in -law. You leave them alone for as long as you can, then when it's just you and them, you realize how much you really hate them. I was in a predicament. I refuse to eat the tuna alone, because I'm picky, and for those of you mentally telling me I should've mixed it with mayo, I want you to walk into you kitchen, grab a knife, preferably a sharp one (remember rub your finger sideways across it, not up and down, you don't want to cut yourself), now swallow the knife and die. I hate mayonnaise, and you should too. Mayo is what takes the place of souls when they're sold to the devil. In fact, I'm pretty sure Hell is constructed with mayonnaise. This is great, you've completely distracted me and I have no idea where I was going with this. Don't apologize, your words are no good here.
Fact of the Day: The strings on the animal cracker containers were originally put there so the box could be hung on a Christmas tree.
Shout out to Thomas Grap.
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