Gluttonous Bastards

I was feeling generous today, so I brought my Holiday Cheesecake to work with me to share with my co-workers.

I put it in the fridge with my initials on the top. 3 hours later, this is what I found.

What the hell?

What kind of glutton goes into the fridge and steals other peoples' food? A better question may be to ask what kind of glutton would eat that much cheesecake before lunch?

I HOPE YOU GET FAT, ASSHOLE!

Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia

I saw a Chia Pet at Wal-Mart a locally owned knick-knack shop today. I didn't know they still made those.

When I was in 4th grade, I was always in trouble (along with my friend Mikey). My teacher told us that if we could behave ourselves for 2 weeks, we could care for the class Chia Pet. Miraculously, this had an impact on my behavior. Mikey fucked up and got banned from Chia duty, but I stayed the course.

I still remember the rush of adrenaline as I spread that gooey seed shit all over the little ceramic sheep. Pure magic.

More Bling

HED Aerolab. Full carbon shell.

Taint of steel.

Wednesday's Workout - In MS Paint

My bike is an asshole.

Intervals suck.

Oooh...Shiny

It looks even better in person!

The color ended up being sort of a gun-metal gray...very cool. The components will be filtering in over the next week or two, so it'll soon be a real live bike.

Perspective

I'm an asshole driver. I admit it. I tailgate, speed, swerve, and generally just want everyone to get the fuck out my way.

This morning, some lady pulled out of her driveway, cutting me off. She then proceeded to drive 10 mph under the speed limit for a couple miles. I was pissed. Then she slowed down and took a left into a cemetery. As I went passed her, I could see tears streaming down her cheeks.

I feel like a huge dick. Sometimes, it's not all about me.

Everyone Who Looks Like Me Is My Friend

Ugh. I'm not an expert on apparel licensing, but I do have a pretty solid knowledge of the history and culture of grunge music. I can't imagine Kurt Cobain would be excited about Nirvana shirts being sold at Wal-Mart.

Bonus points to anyone who can identify where the title to this post came from.

Piece of Shit

Guess why I'm pissed off?

I hate these fucking things.

Breaking Tradition

I just got some excellent news. My Holiday Vasectomy will not happen this year. We had a good run, but it's time to kill that tradition.

One of my coworkers asked how they know that the procedure was successful. How do you think, dipshit?

Why I Don't Ride Carbon - Reason #83

Catastrophic failure.

Memories

I'm always interested to find out from people the very first thing they remember in their lives. Many people have few, if any, childhood memories. Some remember vivid details from their infancy.

My very first memory is of sitting with my mom in a recliner, reading a story. When the book was done, I realized that I wasn't wearing any pants. I thought this was the funniest shit ever. I was probably about 4. I have no idea what makes that particular moment stick in my mind.

My father-in-law remembers laying in his crib as an infant, waiting for his parents to come get him.

What's your first memory?

Hollywood Nicknames

In the tradition of J-Lo, K-Fed, and LiLo, I'm giving myself a Hollywood-style nickname.

Tenacious T is now...(you ready for this?)...

TenT.

Damn, I'm clever. Aw, who am I kidding?

See, people? This is why no one is allowed to give themselves a nickname. It just doesn't work.

Friday's Workout. In Video Form.

Note: crank the sound up for maximum awesomeness.

Deadlifts, powercleans, and roller sprints. These aren't maximal efforts, but you get the idea.

Inspired yet?

I Win!

Post-meal Thanksgiving festivities at my in-laws consists of a traditional game of Holiday BINGO (what, you don't play BINGO on Thanksgiving?).

Everyone brings some cheapo prizes, usually geared towards the kids. Every year I make it my goal to win one of the cheesecakes that my niece brings. I've had to resort to some dirty tactics and merciless BINGO playing, but I've now been successful for 3 consecutive years.

My off-season eating program starts, um, tomorrow.

ATTACK!

We have a lot of deer come through our backyard, and my ferocious little terrier loves to chase them. This morning was a bit different, though, when the deer came after Bandit!

Bandit tore through the yard, yipping and growling. The deer didn't budge. In fact, it started trotting towards him. Once the deer got close enough and Bandit saw that he was outweighed about about 150lbs, he began to retreat. The deer took a few steps after him, then high-tailed it into the woods.

It was the highlight of my Thanksgiving to see my little bad-ass get put in his place by a herbivore.

I tried to get some action shots, but they were moving around too much. The only pictures I got were as they both returned to their respective corners.

How Hot Is This?

Arrival date is next Wednesday. I s'pose I should probably get my components ordered.

Franz's looks the same, but much, much smaller.

HUGE thanks to David Tiemeyer.

Pets

Growning up on a farm, we always had lot of animals around. Unfortunately, many of them lived a short life.

• Bear (Aerdale Terrier): Resented my birth. Ripped the pants of any other kids trying to play with me. Died of old age.
  
• Goldie (Numerous goldfish with the same name): Died, as fish often do. My mom kept them in the freezer, which seems weird now.
  
• Feathers (parakeet): Birds make cool pets. Pooped in my grandma's hair one time. Died because I was an irresponsible pet owner.
  
• Katie (Lab/German Shepherd cross): Very sweet and understanding. Died of heat stroke.
  
• Cassie (Basset Hound): Once had a litter of 15 puppies when she got knocked up by a German Shepherd. Those were ugly puppies. Died of internal bleeding after getting spayed.
  
• Wheezy (cat): Sickly feline that lived in the garage. Wheezed and sneezed constantly (hence the name). Died under the wheel of our mini-van.
  
• Duke (lab): We somehow inherited this dog from some city residents who said he was too wild. He loved to chase cars. He died doing what he loved.
  
• Bud (lab): Best dog ever. Died of old age.
  
• Smokey (cat): Found her and thought she was pregnant. Nope, just fat. Died of old age.
  
• Lazer (springer): Fun hunting dog, great pet. Disappeared.
  
• Cassie (Husky/Lab cross): Nice dog, stand-offish personality. Disappeared. Suspected to have been shot by our neighbor.
  
• Random wild cats: I came home from church camp one summer to find that all our wild cats (about 30 of them) had died of distemper. I was given a pitchfork, and tasked with loading them up in a wheelbarrow and burning them. That's not very much fun for for a 12-year-old.
  
• Tiny (cat): One of the few survivors of distemper. Disappeared.
  
• Scout (Chesapeak): Horrible, horrible dog belonging to my step-brother. Had to be kennelled constantly. Too rough with kids. Gave away.
  
• Sunny (Cockatiel): Loving, but tempramental. Living a life of luxury with my mom.
  
• Caiden(lab/? cross): Very sweet dog, but kind of on the dopey side. Hit by car.
  
• Kiwe PeeWee (Quaker Parrot): Had some sort of neurosis. Returned to pet store.
  
• Skittles (Sun Conure): Cuddliest bird I've ever seen. Found out this was due to the Giardia. Pet store requested him to be returned.
  
• Chicken (parakeet): Retarded. Literally. It's a wonder this bird could find its food. Died of a heart attack at the vet's office while getting his beak trimmed. He just wasn't made for this world.
  
• Bandit (Jack Russell Terrier): Phenominal dog. Good with kids, excellent watch dog, even good at pheasant hunting! He's probably sleeping in my bed as we speak.
  

Current Stats

As of this morning, I was 202.4 lbs. I figure I'll be back around 210 by the end of winter, and my in-season weight will be right around 205.

My max deadlift came last week when I pulled 445# off the the floor.

Franz and I PR'd on single-leg presses last night, repping 340x5.

Squatting just started in earnest a couple weeks ago, so I'm only up to 335x5, but the weights will go up quickly.

Sadly, it seems I'm getting too big for my britches. Literally. I need to buy new pants. Again. (sigh)

Needs Work

My son has decided that he wants to be a comedian. Generally, he's a funny kid...except for when he's actually trying to be funny.

Most of his jokes go something like this:

"Why did the elephant go to the farm?"
"To poop on the corn"

or

"Why did the chicken walk up to the house?"
"To get his head chopped off. Isn't that weird?"

No. It's disturbing, and it makes me think I should lock my bedroom door at night.

Breaking the Habit

I've decided it's time to stop biting my fingernails, which I've done since I was 5. It's a nasty habit that has probably led to most of the illnesses I've had in my life. So far, it's proved to be harder than quitting smoking.

I've tried nail polish, and it didn't even slow me down.

Any tips?

I Work With Morons

This should not need to be said.

Why

OK, I'll admit it, I did read a few blogs during my hiatus.

The one thing that kept jumping out at me is the fact that everyone rolls their tubular tires in cyclocross races. Everyone. Why the hell would you use them? Are they marginally faster? Maybe, but they do you no good if they don't stay on the rim.

I've also seen many bloggers posting about starting their 2008 training programs. Most of these posts sounded something like this: "I didn't reach my goals in 2007. Now I'm going to start training for 2008". Ya might want to consider changing your training regimen. Just a thought.

Off-Season Injury

Franz wasted no time in hurting himself during the off-season. He fell off his rollers this morning, landing on his hip-sled, and may have broken a couple fingers.

I Didn't Know...

I didn't realize until today how much blog-land needed me. Christ, you people are boring!

It's a sad state of affairs when I can't even bring myself to open up Google Reader in the morning because it's more exciting to actually work.

How many times do I have to see the same GD story about the guy fucking his bike? Honestly, I think someone posted it once a week. It was published in Bicycling magazine for fuck's sake. It doesn't need to be on 50 blogs. See here, here, here, here, and here. And these are just the recent ones! I would have looked for more, but I'm sick of reading about it.

Also, what's the deal with people who only allow partial RSS feeds? (I'm looking at you and you in particular). I don't want to have to go to your page to see what you wrote, I want to see it in my RSS reader. I've stopped reading your posts because it's a pain in the ass.

And don't get me started on the fake drama that some bloggers are trying to drum up. That is the empitome of lame. If there's real drama, let it happen, but don't make shit up. You are adults. Act like it. Attempting to inject some sort of "burn" into everything you write makes you seem petty and childish.

Dammit, now I'm all worked up. I need a drink.

Aw, Fuck It

OK, I couldn't do it.

It turns out I really do enjoy blogging. It gives me an outlet to share the random shit I experience in my life. It helps distant friends and family stay up-to-date on me and my family (sorry about all the swearing). It forces me to think more deeply about my experiences.

I've had a lot of people ask why I quit. Well, I hadn't been sleeping well, and I'd been drinking (slightly) more than usual, which combined to put me in a foul mood. I woke up in the middle of the night on a Friday because I thought of something I wanted to blog. That really really pissed me off, so I went downstairs and killed the blog. Admittedly, I may have overreacted. Such is life. It had nothing to do with anyone or anything besides myself.

Blogging had become a chore, something I felt obligated to do, rather than something I had fun doing. That's not cool. I guess I just needed to gain some perspective.

I think the RSS feed double-posted a few things, and I lost the comments for the last 10-15 posts, but all 450+ posts were preserved.

So there ya have it. I'm back, bitches!