Sue The T-Rex

I'd never been to the Stearns History Museum before, and probably won't go again, but they happened to have the "A T-Rex Name Sue" exhibit. The kids had watched Jurassic Park for the first time a couple weeks ago, so they thought it was really bitchin' (my words, not theirs).

I was surprised just how tiny Sue's arms are...she looks like a computer programmer!

Bizzay

I haven't been a very good blogger lately because I've been busy with a lot of things in real life. My grandpa died on the eve of my cousin's wedding. The whole family congregated in Fargo for the ceremony; it was great to see everyone, but it was really a bittersweet weekend.

Grandpa's quality of life had waned severely in recent years, and I truly believe he was ready to go. It doesn't make it any easier, though.

The funeral is tomorrow, and this will be the first time the kids have seen a dead person. I think they kind of understand the concept of death, but I'm a little worried about how they'll handle it.

I've also been swamped with work lately. Demos, meetings, and project deadlines. I'm not complaining though...it makes my job a lot more interesting, and I kinda thrive off the pressure.

I started lifting again, which has left me in a much happier mood. I set up a 5-day split, with a 6th day of ergo sprints.

And....that's it.

I Hate Being The Least Attractive Person In A Photo

I Am An Awesome Runner

And I have a medal to prove it!

I smoked from the time I was 17 until I was about 21. I got out of shape and didn't take very good care of myself.

One day, I decided to get my shit together. I quite smoking and started running. Every day. At first, I couldn't even make it a mile. After a few weeks, though, I could run for about 20 minutes, though it was hard as fuck.

Somehow, a friend convinced me to do the Get-In-Gear run with him. I knew I couldn't complete the standard 10km (6.2 miles), so I opted for the 2km "Fun Run". No one told me that "fun" = "kids". Sure, there were other adults there...the moms and dads of the kids in the race. Needless to say, I felt a little out of place.

The worst part was that I didn't even win! Not even close. I was probably somewhere around 50th. Or 100th. Some of those little fuckers are fast! I even got beat by a chubby kid in jean shorts.

After the race I went to the booth where everyone who registered for the 2km Fun Run was to receive a medal. I walked up to the guy working and informed him that I was there to pick up my medal. He informed me that the medals were only for the kids who ran the Fun Run. I sheepishly displayed my registration form and told him that I had, in fact, completed the Fun Run. He seemed very impressed (I could tell by the way he chuckled) and produced a medal for me, which I proudly wore for the rest of the day.

Max Is Getting Awesomer

I Am Iron Man!

Fuck!

The First Time I Got Kicked In The Nuts

The year was 1992, and I was in 6th grade. We were the oldest kids in the middle school and thought we were super cool.

If you remember 1992, it was a time when most kids could safely ride their bikes to school. Except for me, because we lived way the fuck out in the country. Since my bus always got to school really early, I would wait by the bike rack for my friends to show up.

This particular day was "field trip day", one of the greatest days in all of grade school. Needless to say, I was pretty excited and was acting up a bit. OK, let's be honest, I was being a belligerent little prick. I was showing off by taking some of the younger kids' bikes out of the rack (no one used locks back then) and riding them around, jumping the steps, trying to grind the pedals, and just generally being a jackass.

After one particularly sweet move, I triumphantly flung the wee bike back into the rack. It hit pretty hard and broke the front reflector off of another bike.

"Oh shit," one of my friend said, "that's Edwin's bike". Remember how I said we were the oldest kids in the school? Well, that's not entirely true. Edwin was 3 years older than the rest of us (don't ask), and therefor quite a bit bigger.

I figured it wasn't a big deal. I mean, it's a fucking reflector, right? Most kids removed them the day they got their bikes. But of course, one of my asshole friends has to make it a big deal. He ran off, shouting "I'm telling Edwin!"

I chuckled a bit, knowing he wouldn't care. I mean, who would? Its a fucking reflector. Just then, the bell rang and we all headed to our lockers.

I put my backpack in my locker, and just as I was closing it, I turned around to see a furious Edwin running down the hall toward me. I braced for impact, but he stopped short. I started to say, "Hey, sorry abou-" when he hauled off and kicked me right in the nuts.

Who does that!??!?!

Anyway, I dropped like a sack of potatoes. I writhed in pain while a semi-circle of curious onlookers gathered around. It took about 15 minutes for me to get off the ground, and I ended up having to go to the doctor because ol' lefty swelled up like a plumb. To make things worse, the nurse there was a good friend of our family and I had to show her my sack. She seemed unimpressed.

Intense nut pain forced me to stay home the following day, fueling in-school rumors that my nuts had exploded (or my "eggs had been scrambled") and I'd been forced to have an emergency sex change. Middle school is funny like that.

To add insult to injury, the principal saw kicking me in the nuts as a perfectly acceptable retaliation for a broken reflector, and forced me to pay Edwin $1.19 to replace it. Then he gave me detention.

Success!

I now have 2 tubeless tires that have held air for over 48 hours.

Once I had the proper equipment, it was a very simple process.   Time will tell if they're worth the hassle.