Don't SMS me while I'm drinking

Just wanted to share some fun from a recent St. Paddy's day meeting of the JTC Board with our readers. Two of the three board members were present at the meeting, which was enough to maintain sweet, delicious quorum, not to mention our typically high levels of jokiness. One invited guests received what appeared to be an errant text message to their cellphone:

SMS Message from 416.726.####:
"Thanks 4 the necklace Barb, it's really cute, i have nothing like it! And thanks again 4 making it out tonight even with a midterm! Good Luck!"

Delighted by the opportunity to flex our hilarity muscle real time, the board came up with the following response:

Reply:
"Necklace is stolen. Do not attempt to remove. Trust no one."

Why Am I The Only One To Notice The Obvious?

Now, I don't want this blog to become all about the Toronto Transit Commission (TTC), but fuck it - here's another post about the TTC.

Last week, the TTC unveiled a bold and daring new vision for transit here in the city of Toronto, involving extensive building of a light rail transit system. You can tell it's going to be awesome, because if you stare at the map for long enough, and unfocus your eyes, it totally turns into a sailboat. Check it out:

This plan is going to cost $6 Billion, and take 15 years to build. Yeah - that's right - "Billion"...with a "B".

Anyhoo, there's been much hand-wringing over where the hell the money is going to come from. Hey - let me tell you something I've learned about money: if you just go ahead and spend it, you'll find it from somewhere. That type of shit just usually manages to take care of itself. I mean, you should still be responsible - for example, I wouldn't recommend putting a big chunk of that $6 Billion on a credit card (unless you can pay it back quick - think of all the points / Aeroplan miles you could get!).

So - we've ascertained that the money isn't going to be a big deal. No, my friends, the real problem is this - as previously noted, the TTC is full of assholes. If you're going to build 120 kms of new track, that's a lot of trains, and hence a lot of assholes. Where are all the assholes going to come from? I mean sure - right now at rush hour, it seems like there's an endless supply of assholes. But can we take these assholes for granted?

Starting tomorrow morning, I'm going to talk to all the assholes I see on the TTC, to see if they have any asshole friends who live in Toronto, but currently aren't riding the TTC, or who would consider moving to Toronto specifically to be an asshole on the TTC. If I put my mind to it, I know I can solve this looming asshole-shortage.

Asshole,

Johnny M

Questions I would like answered

1. What is up with Fillipino Nannies? Are Filipinos culturally pre-disposed to taking care of children? Why do no other countries, south-east asian or otherwise, manage to raise a comparable army of child care providers? I mean, I’ve never been to the Philippines, but from what I understand, it’s a developing country made up of several thousand lush tropical islands inhabited by a largely agrarian society. I don’t recall seeing a lot of pictures of women there wearing jogging pants and pushing six-up baby-factory strollers full of upper-middle-class white kids down the street.

2. What the hell is up with this style where girls wear dresses over their jeans? I mean, in terms of covering bare legs and crotches, I think jeans do a hell of a job – much better than a dress, particularly on a windy day, or when walking on mirrored floors. Next time I see one of these ladies, I’m going to walk over wearing a baseball hat over my toque, and ask just what the fuck is going on.

3. Why do I have to speak Italian when ordering a coffee at a Starbucks in Toronto? I want a fucking large coffee, but I have to ask for a ‘Grande’. And when the hell did someone schlepping coffee for minimum wage at a chain coffee shop become a ‘Barista’? Doesn’t that translate to ‘Barkeeper’? Can I get a beer there? Is it a bar? No? But you have a barkeeper, and you all speak Italian? Che il fotte.

It's the people I hate...

I had a discussion this past weekend with my co-habitational partner (CHP) about the subway system here in Toronto, run by the Toronto Transit Commission (or TTC). We both agreed that we love the TTC system (wildcat strikes aside), and any frustration or anger we feel when using said system is caused by the stupid fuckers who are on the buses, subways and streetcars, and not by the system itself. (Asshole streetcar operators, not withstanding.)

Why do we hate the people? Well, there are a myriad of reasons that I won't go into right now, but this morning I was witness to one of the most irritating things I see on the subway during rush hour. That's right - those assholes who insist on taking a good chunk of their belongings to work in a fucking suitcase that they wheel along behind them.

I mean - what are you taking to work that you need a goddamn piece of LUGGAGE? Imagine if everyone decided to throw out their back-packs and shoulder bags and use these monstrosities - it would be chaos! Idiots who purchase these things seem to have the same sort of self-importance and lack of courtesy as stroller-pushing parents. (Although, there's (hopefully) not a child inside their luggage.)

Blocking doorways with your carry-on? Stopping dead at the top of escalators to pull out your luggage handle? It's of no concern!

I wish I had something constructive to say at the end of this, but I don't. I just hate these fuckers.

Hate,

JohnnyM

Pulse 24/7 Watch: Death by CN Tower - Everywhere!

So when I arrived home this eve, my co-habitational partner was flipping the dial on the television and ran into good old Channel 7, Moses Znaimer's City TV. I'm not sure if newscasts can possibly be more shitty than what they churn out (as we've previously seen - that 'Strikewatch' graphic was theirs - sans wildcat of course). They are like a canadian cross between Fox News and Access Hollywood. Each night, their top stories are Crime! Traffic Accidents! Death! and it's all done really sensibly, so you finish watching the broadcast and are scared to leave your house.

Well, on tonight's "episode" of the 6pm news broadcast, they included what seemed to the be the 2515th installment of their 1,000,000 installment series titled 'Pulse 24/7 Watch: Death by CN Tower - Everywhere!'. For anyone reading our blog outside of Toronto, lately there's been a lot of ice falling from buildings in Toronto, including the CN Tower, which has recently closed highw... Who the fuck am I kidding, there's no one reading this.

Anyways, ShittyTV replayed about 5 minutes of ice-fall slow motion capture, and then cranked up the Bam! Pow! where the cameraman tracked ice colliding with other buildings. At the end of the inane broadcast, they asked for Torontonians to share their ideas about how to deal with the ice on the CN Tower. Really? I can only imagine what the morons who watch City would comment. Oh no, wait, it's all on their website.

A few of my faves from the top end of the IQ distribution:

"Shoot at the ice with police rubber bullets. Police shoot criminals with them. Why not try that?"
"Contact the GTAA [Greater Toronto Airports Authority], tell them to get some choppers and shoot some de-icing liquid at the ice. Maybe not today with the wind but when it settles."
"Have they considered using laser or magnification of light to targeted problem areas? You know like a magnifying glass reflecting the sun or using mirrors to deflect halogen or high powered lights?"
"After storms, the corporation sends workers out to look at the damage (last year, pieces of the white fabric covering the top of the tower were blown loose). Equip them with golf cleats or the like and as they rappel down the side of the tower, swinging into it, the cleats break off the ice into small chunks ... If it doesn't work, sniper rifles from condos would also dislodge it."

This shit writes itself.

Band Names

Band names seem to be getting more creative every year that passes, although there are some bland anomalies (such as the two thousand bands out there named “The insert any word here”).

In addition to our other insanely profitable ventures, JTC has entered the band naming market. During the discourse of JTC board meetings and/or emails, a phrase is sometimes used that would qualify and someone comments “Hey, that would make a great band name!”

If for purposes of record only, please find the following catalogue of band names to date (more are being created every day):

Case of the Mondays
The Reverse Danforth
Similar to Ruffles
Extreme Binge Drinking
Male Bovine Feces
Fun and Drinking
Coffee and Bran Muffins (We imagine they would be on stage saying "Hi! I'm Coffee, and these are the Bran Muffins (pointing to the rest of the band). We're going to be taking a break every 20 minutes....you know why.")
Soup to nuts
Nothing but Chaps (This could be used for a country band just as easily as an English boy’s choir)
29 Emails
Predominantly White
Champagne and Hookers
Delighter Dashboard
The REAL Lederhosen
Unprotected Swashbuckling
Huge in Denmark
Nexus of the Universe
Game of Tee
Fucking Wedding Errands
Reservations Under "John"
Securing With Jackets
Buns and/or Thighs
Convenience Charge
Interfere with Rogering
Vegetable Lasagna

Everything is starting to look like a good band name to me,
The Coco

Interesting things I've learned listening to the radio

As I'm sure many readers of this blog would agree, things just don't quite make perfect sense to you when you are a) just waking up OR b) drunk. I've had a problem with the former in the last couple weeks when listening to my radio while waking up at 5:30 am. The commercials on one of the local radio stations have been particularly unusual, so I thought I'd learn a little bit more by visting their commercial's websites:

1) Florida11 - the commercial calls on people to visit a website http://www.florida11.com/florida11/petition.php to fill in a petition to change Florida to the 11th Canadian province. Sounds perfectly reasonable, no? I believe Jeb and George W would have a small problem with that and, after reading the fine print, it is just another gimmick by those marketing geniuses at the Florida Tourism Board, who are trying to whore the state by creating a fake petition to attract a few more Canadian snowbirds. Well, it's working. According to the website 7683 people have signed - including these interesting petitioners: Castro, Fidel; Il, Kim Jong and Ahmadinejad, Mahmoud.

2) Laser Concept Therapy - Initially, I thought this one was just another hair removal offices promising women they'll never cut their legs in the shower again. Well, they've found yet another use for lasers! Apparently, blowing up intercontinental ballistic missiles wasn't the final frontier for lasers as previously thought. This commercial advertises that lasers can now help you quit smoking or lose weight with a few simple treatments - according to the website (http://laserconcepts.ca/quit.html#1). When you read into the details, the 'therapy' combines the ancient Chinese art of acupuncture with 20th century light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation technology - the perfect combination! This looks another happy client with a red glow from the side of his head:

I suppose I'm doing just what they want me to do by talking/writing about them, but I'm pretty confident nobody will be booking florida vacations or exposing themselves to cancer-causing lasers as a result of this commercial review.

Blog of the day

That's right, your favorite blog (yes, this one) has won the much coveted blog of the day award for Tuesday, February 20, 2007. According to the site, a panel of judges grants up to four awards each day "in recognition of oustanding nominees". Obviously we are honored to be part of this select pool of thousands of honorees, and I maintain that the fact that we nominated ourselves does not take away from this honor and distinction.

It goes on to say that "Being named a Blog of the Day Awards Winner can be the crowning achievement of a lifetime of work, or it can be the beginning of a new chapter in the life of a blogger". Crowning achievement? Check. New chapter in my life? Check.

Looking forward to the upcoming Miss Blog Universe pageant. Johnny M has been working to slip into that two piece for a while now.

Fuck we're good.
Coco

An open letter to all TTC streetcar riders

Lately I’ve heard and read a lot of complaints about the disposition of the Toronto Transit Commission’s streetcar drivers. My fellow riders, please offer these drivers due consideration for the high levels of stress and complexity that must deal with on a daily basis.

Sure, they may scream at riders, yell and bang their cabin to get people to move to the back, and absolutely freak out when people are surprised that the streetcar is taking a short turn (I mean, can’t they fucking see the sign on the front of the streetcar that says “SHORT TURN”?)

Put yourself in their shoes. Imagine you had to deal with their worries on a daily basis. For instance, consider the incredible complexity of the machine itself:

1. There is no steering wheel.
2. There are two pedals – one to make the streetcar move forward, and one to stop it from moving forward.
3. The streetcar travels at about 20 km/hr along a fixed track, and the doors open and close with the push of a button.

And consider the complexity of the job:

1. Sometimes people will be taking two vehicles during their commute, and will then ask you for a transfer. This requires you to rip a piece of paper off a pad and shove it in their hand.
2. You have to stop every time someone rings the bell.
3. People may ask for directions, or the final destination of the streetcar (this is especially aggravating, given that the driver has been doing this route daily for eight years, so obviously the rider should know where the car is going).
4. Payment can come in a variety of forms: Either people show you a transit pass, or put tokens/change into a box. The box sometimes has to be emptied by hitting a lever.

I know, I know – when you put it all together, it’s amazing NASA isn’t at the TTC train yard recruiting for astronauts. So the next time a driver yells at you for any reason, you’ll know exactly what they are dealing with, and you’ll be happy that your day wasn’t nearly as stressful as these gifted pilots.

Coco T. Monkey

Tuesday's Random Thoughts

Just a few things I felt like sharing today:

1) I was at CostCo last night. Anyone familiar with this establishment knows that anything you purchase must be bought in ridiculously high quantities. As I was picking up a giant bottle of multi-vitamins, I cast my gaze over the "club-packs" of condoms. Anyone who feels the urge to buy their condoms in bulk is either: a) enjoying a great deal of sex; or b) completely delusional. Either way - bravo, I say.

2) I really hate shitty music. I think that one of the crappiest bands that has risen to prominence over the past few years is Maroon 5. Seriously - they're shit. Sometimes I feel like I'd rather be undergoing dental work than listen to them. Well, today I got to compare and contrast these situations. I was at the dentist, being worked on by the hygienist (aka "The Butcher"). Imagine my surprise - as she dug that metal pointy thing into my gums for the 15th time - when "She Will Be Loved" came on the radio. My eyes were watering with the pain, but I'm not sure if the source was my mouth or my ears. Excruciating.

3) I really love good music. The best CD I've bought this year is by a band called The Kooks. You should check out a couple of their songs on their myspace site here. Their show in Toronto on May 8th has recently been moved to a larger venue (The Guvernment), so it's no longer sold out. I highly recommend you (both?) all go.

That is all.

Valentine's Day Cards

There are some that say that Valentine's Day is a "made-up", "manufactured", or "Hallmark" holiday, like "Flag Day", "Columbus Day", or "Easter". You know what I say? "That's bullshit."


Valentine's Day is probably one of the most important days on the JohnnyM personal calendar. Why? Because it's one of the days we can plan a JTC product launch around.


Here at JTC headquarters, we have literally been inundated with requests for Valentine's Day cards. Never being ones to disappoint our reader(s), please find attached our latest hit product line:

Coming to a head

In my particular work environment, a soul-crushing cube farm where several dozen male employees share the same bathroom, certain unspoken etiquette within those facilities is called for. This topic has been widely written about, so I won’t venture into the details of this silent code except to say that if you are unfamiliar with it, you’re likely one of the abnormal specimens the policy was written for.

The code should be part of mandatory employee testing. As I said, I don’t want to get into it, but I’ve witnessed countless infractions in the past few months (such as a complete lack of attempt to cover up errant noises by flushing/coughing, attempting conversation mid-urination, and unnecessary delay time while those in stalls wait for a private moment).

Just now, I witnessed an outlandish violation of the code that has left me a little disgusted, and my bathroom experience that much creepier. As I walked in, some dude took a giant wad of paper towel, soaked it, turned to face me with a blank stare, and then proceeded to a stall, locking himself in. There were noises.

It’s not supposed to be like this. Not like this.

JTC Movie Reviews

Seen any good movies lately? Me neither. It really does seem like there's a lot of crap out there these days. What we all need is someone to tell us whether movies are any good, and if they're worth the $20 it will cost you to sit in a theatre, "enjoying" the company of your fellow movie-goers, as you marvel at the apparent shallowness of the gene pool.

As always, JTC has jumped in, and decided to fill this gaping void. Now, I don't want you to think that I'm actually going to movies, evaluating them, and then writing a well thought out review. Who has time for that shit? Rather, I'm going to look at movie posters, make what will likely be wildly accurate assumptions about the plot and characters, and then pass judgement.

Let's begin.

Music and Lyrics

Finally! Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore have decided to leave those lame-ass romantic comedies behind, and make something a bit more edgy. Ripped from the headlines (from 10 years ago), this gritty movie focuses on the seemy underbelly of prostitution in the USA, as Hugh's character attempts to convince Drew's character to become a hooker by inviting her over to his place, and then proceeding to receive a blow job from a prostitute he just picked up (not pictured). Truly gripping - and the ironic opening date of Valentine's Day? Unprecendented.

9/10.

Norbit

A tender tale of love and misunderstanding, cast against the backdrop of racial tension in the deep south. Eddie Murphy gives a tour de force performance both as a guy who looks and acts just like him, but also as a really, really fat chick. Mr Murphy - do not be surprised if a little gold gentleman I like to call "Oscar" comes a-calling. You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll leave the theatre, and call all of your black friends just to say, "hey".

8/10.

Hannibal Rising

A historical documentary, detailing the incredible journey of the Carthaginian general Hannibal, as he attempted to destroy the Roman Empire by leading his army over the Alps (hence, the "Rising") and into Italy. Did you know that Hannibal took elephants with him? Everyone knows that Italians are terrified of elephants, so that was pretty damn smart. This movie loses some points though - I totally would have put a couple elephants on the poster for marketing purposes (elephants - they're this year's penguin), and what's up with the mask on the dude's face? I'm assuming that if you're about to start one of the Punic Wars, you want to be able to breathe freely.

6/10.

Hate is a Strong Word

Hate is a strong word. And it takes a strong man to use a strong word. Fortunately, I'm fucking ripped.

I hate Ticketmaster (henceforth referred to as "Ticketbastard".) One of the things I hate about Ticketbastard is their bizarre math. For example, let's pretend I want to go see the three-headed bizarro dinosaur mentioned in my previous post play the LA Clippers tomorrow afternoon. I find 2 upper bowl seats at the ACC, at the price of $56.60 each. How much should I have to pay for these seats? If you answered $113.20 you're:

a) pretty good at math; and
b) incredibly naive.

In fact, purchasing the aforementioned pair of tickets would cost you $133.45. You see, you need to include the convenience charge, the order processing charge, and the TicketFast deliver charge. For some concerts, there's even a "Facility Fee", which caused one JTC Executive member to comment, "If I'm paying to keep the place clean, I'm planning on urinating in the corner."

A further recent innovation by Ticketbastard, designed to prevent scalpers from mass-purchasing tickets, is the requirement to type in a series of letters and numbers that appear on the screen prior to searching for the tickets. Unfortunately, this process also unfairly discriminates against the able-sighted, as the series of letters and numbers that appear on the screen frequently don't resemble anything on my keyboard. For example:

WTF? Let's just start with that "letter" that's right in the middle. Is that a "D"? An "O"? A "0"? There's nothing more enjoyable than realizing that a concert or sporting event that you desperately want to attend is in the process of selling out, as you head-butt your keyboard, hoping that the random series of characters your forehead produces somehow matches what these (ticket) bastards are looking for.

To avoid the keyboard head-butting, sometimes I call the baboons at the Ticketbastard call centre. On one occasion, I called the US Ticketbastard phone number, as I was planning on attending an event in Buffalo. During the call, I "enjoyed" this exchange:

Baboon: "You're from Canada?"

JohnnyM: "Yes."

Baboon: "I really like Canada Dry ginger ale."

JohnnyM: "That's terrific."

Bottom line: I think I can safely state that I truly hate Ticketbastard. And you should too.

Let's pretend....

Let's pretend that you run the Toronto Raptors. Over the last few years, you have been the laughing stock of the Eastern Conference, which happens to be the laughing stock of the NBA. Suddenly, something incredible starts to happen, and your team begins to play well (relatively speaking). You're playing .500 ball, lead your division, and are right in the playoff race. Things are going great, right? Well they're going to get better.

Today, the league announced quite the trifecta - for the Eastern Conference, Sam Mitchell was named Coach of the Month, Andrea Bargnani was named Rookie of the Month, and Chris Bosh was named Player of the Month. Truly impressive. You're proud of your team, your players and your coach, and you decide to run a story on your website. The only thing left to determine is what graphic will you post with the story.

Here's what they came up with:

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Really?!?

I have a couple of things I'd like to bring up:

- Not to sound needy (which obviously means I'm about to sound needy), but WTF is up with zero comments on my last post? In my not very humble opinion, that is comedic gold, and it gets nothing? Really? REALLY?!?

- Speaking of which, Co-Co and I were out last night shooting the shit, and playing the 'Tee (mental note - "Shooting the shit and playing the 'Tee" would be a great t-shirt and/or album name), and were discussing a little segment that appeared on SNL - here's a link: Really? We both agreed it was hilarious, and couldn't stop saying "Really?" to each other the rest of the night, so I figured I should forewarn people that it's likely to come up in conversation. BTW, my favourite part? "You hid your weed - which is not allowed on a plane - in another thing that is not allowed on a plane."

- Seriously - we're trying to get a gauge in terms of how many people actually read this blog. Co-Co seems to think it's approximately 3 (including the JTC executive), while I have a "sky's the limit" take on things, and feel it could literally be in the tens. So here's what we're going to do. Every single person that reads this is going to click on that little "comments" link below, and leave a comment. You don't have to log-in - you can do it anonymously - and it doesn't have to be funny...just leave something. Really.

"Bathing" "the" "cat"

I don’t understand women. Never have – never will. I actually have an all-encompassing theory that “all chicks are nuts”, but this seems to cause more tension when I bring it up with the ladies (thus leading to further craziness), so I tend to keep it to myself these days.

One of the things that I really don’t understand about women is their excitement over marriage. As we all know – marriage is a man-made prison. You’re doing time! Anyway, a girl who I work with is getting married shortly, and for some reason, the females in our department thought it would be a good idea to have a “marriage countdown”.


This countdown consisted of cards on a corkboard, that the bride to be would turn over each day. On the other side of the card would be some sort of whimsical phrase, reminding her of the joys she has to look forward to now that her relationship has entirely changed and been validated thanks to a piece of paper.

If at any point while reading the last paragraph, you rolled your eyes, congrats – you’re my kind of person.

Anyway, I was walking by the board today, and this is what was written on the latest card:

“You’ll have someone to bathe ‘the cat’”

Now, this caused me to do a slight double take. Why was ‘the cat’ in quotes? All of the previous cards had been like, “You’ll always have someone to cuddle”, and similar such shit. Was it possible that we had now ventured into the realm of thinly veiled sexual references? I quickly sought out PChrist to get his opinion. He informed me that apparently this girl actually has a cat (we’re talking a feline pet here, just to be clear) that sheds a lot, and needs to be bathed frequently (keep your mind out of the gutter – it’s a house pet, people!)

I thought back to some previous conversations I had enjoyed with the bride to be, and I recalled her mentioning her cat, and its furriness. WAIT! Could it be she was talking about her…no, no. It can’t be. Can it?

I am damn confused.

I'm Not a Man. More Like a Child.

As per my previous post, I occasionally consider myself somewhat of an athlete. Unfortuntely, I also occasionally consider myself somewhat of an alcoholic. Now, "alcoholic-athlete" doesn't quite have the same ring to it as "student-athlete", so I decided something had to be done. My solution? I signed up for a Running Clinic that meets weekly at 8am on Saturday mornings. Hard to get hammered when you know you have to be up at 7am the next day to run 15km, no? I know, I know - it's brilliant.

Anyway, last night (a Friday) I went out for dinner with an old roommate and some friends. Despite the fact that I was quite clear about my low-drinking status, my dinner companions insisted on attempting to feed me as much alcohol as possible. This included some of the most insistent peer pressure I've ever seen this side of an after school special. ("You can run anytime!", "Just have one more beer...", "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" were just some of the ridiculous things they said.) Towards the end of the evening, the following conversation occurred:

Ex Roommate (clearly intoxicated): "You may be able to run 15k, but I could tackle you inside the first 100 metres."
JohnnyM: "Really? I'm not so sure about that."
Friend #1: "Yeah - I'd agree. My money's on John on this one."

Which is how I found myself, half an hour later, on Yonge Street getting ready for a footrace between the Rose and Crown and The Duke of Kent. As we stood there, waiting for some of the pedestrian traffic to clear up and the race to start, I pondered exactly how I managed to find myself in this situation, and came to the realization that maybe it was time to make some serious changes in my life. As the race started, and I took off - yes, sprinting from one bar to another down the busiest street in Toronto - I realized that I'm really not a man in any true sense of the word. More like a child.

BTW, I kicked his ass. And in reality, I fully expect my juvenile behaviour to continue. I just want to make it clear that I'm very much aware of it.

I Am An Idiot, Volume 1

As some of you know, I like to consider myself a triathlete. The evidence of this is that I occasionally like to swim, bike and run. In reality, I’m fat an out of shape…but that’s a different blog entry. Anyhoo, as part of my workouts, in the winter it’s hard to bike outdoors, on account of the snow, ice, darkness, etc. To get around this, cyclists have invented one of the singularly most boring activities known to man – riding on a bike trainer. For those of you who are unfamiliar with bike trainers, basically they’re a stand that you attach the back wheel of your bike to, with a fly wheel that provides resistance. You then peddle to your heart’s content, trying to watch TV to take your mind off the fact that your ass and crotch are completely numb.

Here’s a picture I found on the web of what a bike trainer set-up typically looks like:















I’d like to point out the fact that when I use my trainer, I usually like to wear a shirt. That’s not to say that I’m some sort of shirt-nazi…no way. For no real reason, here’s a list of things I like to do with no shirt on:
- swimming
- sunbathing
- flexing
- grocery shopping
- babysitting

For some reason, every year when I set up my bike trainer, I’m concerned about damaging the frame of my bike by tightening the clamp too much. So I don’t tighten it enough. Then I start riding. And my bike comes loose from the trainer, so I go sprawling across the floor of my basement. This happened to me again last week. I think I might start wearing my helmet when using my trainer. Why?


Because I am an idiot.

My New Year's Eve Party Was Better Than Yours...

...because mine involved breakdancing. Check out the video.

Seriously - was your party that fun? I'd wager not.