Hot Shots

I decided to finally learn how to use my computer, mainly because everything looks better on it than things probably do on your computer.
So how about a screenshot?


Like Magnum P.I.

(except not a private eye and less Republican and less gay-in-the-closet)
I have the kind of chest hair that peeks out of the neck of any shirt that doesn't have a fully-buttoned collar or a medium-to-tight crewneck.
But you know what? I'm alright with that.


The 1000 Clicks club

Don't worry - most of them are probably me (and Becker).

Update: I pulled a muscle doing nothing but walking on the dock in the dark at the lake. So the streak of hurting myself continues. Heidi thinks that it's my body trying to tell me something and I think that's right. I had some sort of revelation about it yesterday and then forgot what I had figured out right away. I think it was something about needing to master my surroundings more though working to gain control over my own self. I'll keep you posted next time I hurt myself (probably later today at the Hall & Oates concert - I'm betting knife fight with the band over the lack of mustaches because no thick lip hair = not my Hall & Oates).


I'm getting worse

It's true. I am basically getting worse at everything.

Lately I've been a walking calamity. For a while it was just whilst drinking, such as the damaged fingernail shown a couple weeks ago, or the swollen knuckle (still hurts a bit to make a fist) shown here:
and scraped shoulder from crashing a shopping cart. Oh, and the giant shin bruise, since faded, from jumping over a fence after Becker smashed a bottle.

But there has also been the double-palm-puncturing fall during basketball (playground pebbles on the asphalt), shown here after a couple days of scabbing:
and the general, intense stiffness after playing baseball (hit every time, never was out!) and soccer (ball to the face from own goalie 5 feet away - glasses knocked off and frames bent a little, bridge of the nose a little tender) with Joanne's family.

I'm probably getting dumber too, but thankfully am dumb enough to not be able to actually measure it and present any proof.

Well, I think I'll go get a drink and toast, by myself, to settling in to mediocrity, with this quote from Virginia Woolf:
"The middlebrow is the man, or woman, of middlebred intelligence who ambles and saunters now on this side of the hedge, now on that, in pursuit of no single object, neither art itself nor life itself, but both mixed indistinguishably, and rather nastily, with money, fame, power, or prestige."



What happened was this basically: