Phone it in Friday
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Just giving you guys a look at how the sausage is made around here.
Where my head is at
You ever seen in like the Matrix or Eagle Eye when they get the call from a random number and it turns out to be some omniscient voice that tells them what to do? I would just never answer the call cause it’s a random number. Movie would end right there because I’d refuse to engage the catalyst of the subsequent events.
How does Barbicide work? My barber will use a straight edge razor to trim my neck and then just drop the thing into the chemical solution. Shouldn’t you wipe it off first or something? I get it’s sterile now, but like you could still be putting my skin and hair particles onto someone else.
I’m usually pretty bull-like when moving, meaning I run into shit a lot. But when I’m in a stadium trying to get to my seats, I swear I move through the crowd like a ballerina. It’s like that special walk the Fremen have to do in Dune to avoid detection from those worms they both worship and use as uber drivers. Fairly confident I could have been an elite running back in light of this.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m a vocal opponent of the T. I get we need public transit, but having nothing is better than having the MBTA. Marathon Monday, I go for a little ride to Fenway Park. I’m going to the game, it’s Patriots Day, I’m excited. The station is packed. But hey, it’s Marathon Monday I get it. One train passes by. Too full. Can’t get on. Second train. Too full. Third train. Too full. Finally, the fourth train comes and a couple big boys cleared enough space for me to get standing room on the stairs. Now I have to go about 5 stops to get to Kenmore where most of the passengers on this train were going. Should take maybe 15 minutes. We were on the train for 50 minutes. 5 stops. 50 minutes. And look, I don’t mind the standing or the waiting, or the fact that we were packed in so tight that I was essentially spooning the guy in front of me. The problem was the heat. It was at least 90 degrees in there and I was wearing a jacket, which I couldn’t take off because I couldn’t lift my arm more than a few inches without hitting someone. So I’m sweating literally as much as when I do a 45-minute boxing workout and unable to do anything to get cooler. Then, when we finally pull into Kenmore, and I shit you not this is true… the air conditioner in the train turns on. Literally as the station is in sight. That fucking train could replace waterboarding.
Sad life snippets (lot of these so I scratched a section)
I officially need to lose weight. I been sweating while just eating lately.
It took Tax Day for me to realize that I’ve been unknowingly throwing away W2’s, 1099’s, and possibly checks because the mail didn’t look important enough to me.
Like half the shirts in my laundry this week had stains on them from hasty eating habits. Gotta be better.
I’ve been choking on nothing a lot lately. Like I won’t be eating or drinking, I’m just chilling in bed then inhale air the wrong way and suddenly need the Heimlich.
They were handing out free t-shirts at Fenway as a “sorry we suck balls” gift and as I approached the lady distributing them she said, “These are all mediums. XL’s are over there.” Accurate directions, but really hurt my feelings.
I get athlete’s foot a lot for someone who rarely does anything athletic and my current case simply will not heal. Been dousing my feet in anti-fungal powder and it just keeps itching and not healing. I’m gonna be patient zero when The Last of Us happens in real life.
Bad week for your boy in terms of fitting into stuff. Went to an oral surgeon about getting my wisdoms out, a task I’m executing 8 years after I was told to, and the blood pressure band wasn’t big enough for my unit arm. Then I went to the Bruins and tried to stand up briefly on a breakaway and was rejected by my legs going into either arm rest. Need to reduce my general circumference.
I’m gonna put more weird powder on my feet until they stop being gross. Have a great weekend — go B’s and C’s and to a lesser extent, the Sox.
