Your Tuesday Morning Update

I'm gonna live to 435 using this logic:

Ernest Borgnine Secret to Long Life

Looks Like the Fat Man with Two Left Feet Can Dance

I think it's a disgrace to the sport of triathlon that they would even let me enter a race. But I guess I'm a paying customer and I'm always fun (or funny) to watch so they always let me in.

Saturday my sinus infection, remnants of a Thursday night hangover and I loaded up to do a local triathlon. A month ago I was reckoning that this race was gonna be pretty high on my list but then life got in the way and I entered Saturday in a pretty foul funk.

You know those days where you just can't get going? The legs just won't turn over and your body feels fatigued to the bone? What's the smartest thing to do when your limbs feel like they're made of lead? I know. Go for a swim !!!

This was only my second tri, the first just being a grand experiment. Having gotten a feel for things in the first one, I had the goal of trying to knock the bottom out of the swim and bike and then just trying to salvage a decent run.

We started time trial fashion (5 second intervals) off a pier. I was so jacked up that I nearly dove on top of the poor guy who cannonballed right in front of me. I got heads down and felt like I was flying. Then I forgot something. Thinking, thinking, thinking... oh snap. I'm forgetting to breathe. Being in dark waters where there is no chance they'll find you until the bloat carries your body back to the surface is not the place to catastrophically blow up. But I had done it. I was halfway through a .5 mile swim and I was cooked. I absolutely could not keep afloat. I reverted back to breast stroke to recover but I was suffering and kept sinking with every stroke.

So yes, I kid you not I really thought this was it. I was looking for the volunteers for a life preserver. I was in the mode of asking God to get me outta the water and I'd never do this craziness again. But I think God was like "hahahaha, stop being a pu$$y. Now, get back to swimming you idiot".

But it's funny that even as I was convinced I was going to drown I had that whole Level 6 performer thought process going on. My thoughts in order:
1. I'm gonna die out here. I'm going under. I'll never see my wife and children again.
2. Sh1t, could I swim any slower? My race time is screwed.
3. What a moron, I'd not even be able to finish a 70.3 swimming like a jackass like this.

So yes, wrapped up in thoughts of dying I also decided to berate myself over my horrible performance. Hahahaha, I need help and medication.

I finally recovered and got into a rhythm well enough to finish-- though I was 4 minutes off my last .5 mile time. Blows.

My T1 was kinda bad as well. I was pretty blown up and, after a near-death experience I was kinda shaken. But I got on the bike and had a pretty decent ride. I guess you can call the best bike time of the day "decent".

T2 always seems to be good to me since I usually make up time skidding into it like them Duke Boys. I had a great run (er, great for me) until the cramp monster hit right at the end. But that's what happens when you have to blow yourself apart on the bike to compensate for lack of running skill and a poor swim.

Overall: 8th place overall, 1st place in my age group. Now I'm getting thoughts of "if I do this well at 197 lb., what happens if I get back to my race weight of 175?" Troubling thoughts that might signal a return to "the lifestyle".

Oh, well. We'll see. I'm gonna take it easy, have a fun winter training and only set a goal of top-5 Age Group at the New Orleans 70.3. No pressure.

Pics for your Enjoyment

Remember the crazy neighbors with the "cinder block flowerbeds"? Well, they're back. This time I have no clue what they're doing. However, when a structure appears over the fence like this, you know Gary Z. is going in for a closer look...


But before we go to the backyard, what in the world is going on here?



Whatever it is, it apparently takes 2 ladders to tame


Peering over the fence...


Now, seriously. Please someone chime in and let me know what the hell this is


Have you seen this going around lately? If I'm "compensating" by driving a big SUV what is this dude compensating for with his giant phallic exhaust system?



No, no, no. I am not making fun of disabled people. I am making fun of this dude who cruises Germantown Parkway on his wheelchair so he can hit the drive-through at Starbucks. I'm told that he sits outside his subdivision with a radar gun and clocks speeders as part of some sort of citizen police.


Note to self: If advertising for custom painting, make sure you can at least paint your advertising medium


Finally, only took me like 6 months to finally get this


I'm sure that if I drop 31 lb. and weigh as much as I did as a sophomore in high school, I'll really be able to fend off sickness. I guess I will since I'll prolly be in ICU.


Life at my work. We have instructions on how to use the dishwasher.


Don't judge me!! I was hungry and short on time !!


Life at my work Part 2. I decided to help out with someone who was trying to give away some rabbits to a loving home


Life at my work Part 3. This was in the break room at 8am one day. Ham and Wonder bread-- breakfast of champions.


Some days, you just can't get outta bed.

I Hate These

Guys, please stop wearing these damn Mandals:

I Met Her and,Yes, She Was "All Dat"

LP and I went with the Superfriends to Greenwood, MS this past weekend for a little bike riding (that's a "little bike riding" versus a "little bike ride", Alissa). We stayed at the best Greenwood had to offer in the Alluvian. When one stays at a 4-diamond hotel they might expect certain things such as a restaurant also worthy of that 4-diamond rating. If the Alluvian is worthy of 4 diamonds then their in-house restaurant, Giardina's is worthy of 4 diamond chips or 4 CZ's. But I'm basing this mostly on our waitress, Becky. Becky, Becky, Becky.

Had Becky divulged that he had just come off a 5 year stint of working at the bowling alley then I certainly would have been more understanding of the utterly idiotic service she provided. I guess I don't ask too much when eating at a nice restaurant, but a knowledgeable, confident and unobtrusive (that is, they only come into play during dinner when you need them to) waiter is very desirable. But why should I keep rambling when I can just highlight Becky's greatest hits.

LP: Can you tell me about the monkfish?
Becky: That don't even sound right. What is that?
LP: It's your special.
Becky: I wouldn't know what that is if someone told me. [but she goes to kitchen to ask anyway]
Becky returns, stares and ceiling and very robotically declares: "The monkfish is meatier with a milder taste." Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto.

Brian: Is this chicken bone-in? The bone's where all the flavor comes from.
Becky [dazing off at ceiling]: Uh, the meat's where all the flavor is.

Becky drops an empty beer bottle so hard on the floor that I thought someone had cracked a cymbal across my skull.

Only wanting about 2 glasses of wine each (get it, total of 4), Becky suggests that LP and I order the half-bottle. Good conversion on saying that the half-bottle is equal to 4 glasses of wine Becky-- you only missed the mark by 2 glasses.

Okay, enough on wine conversions. I opt for beer.

Me: Becky, do you have any Blue Moon Summer Ale?
Becky: Uh...
Me: It's got a YELLOW label.
Becky: Uh....
Brian steps in to save the day: Becky. Go to the bartender. Ask for a Blue Moon Summer Ale. If he hands you anything then bring it back to us.
Becky: Okay.

Commenting on a dessert item: "That stuff looks like baked gelatin. It don't look very good to me, but I'm not supposed to say that.

Also, I've never seen a blackened fish entree that did not contain a single black speck on but somehow Becky managed to pull it off.

The Claw
A demonstration how HOW NOT to serve a drink to someone (professional re-enactment):

Ugh! She managed to put everyone finger plus a toe on someone's coffee when she brought it. I'm for real, that's how she brought a drink.

I guess we can't blame Becky for the restaurant not having any of the coffee drinks on the menu (save for decaf) but when she came back to give us refills she only filled Brian's and my cup 1/3 full and Meredith got NOTHING. God forbid that Becky run up to Waffle House and fill another carafe with decaf.

I'm gonna stand up and declare that Giardina's, on this night, might have been the worst restaurant I have ever visited. And I'm putting it on the level with Denny's, Del Taco and IHOP-- it was astonishingly that bad.