Byron In Exile
Frederick Fucking Chopin
- Joined
- May 3, 2002
- Posts
- 66,591
What does it involve?I hate my job.
I might do it.
But I'd expect half your paycheck.
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What does it involve?I hate my job.
I'm off to Lithgow tomorrow morning. It's a couple of hours away, but it's a nice drive. And there's a great hamburger place to stop at on the way back.![]()
I forgot that my tits were going to shrink. Sonofa...
boo!!!
I dreamt last night that I denied someone an orgasm for two weeks.
Serves her right.
You still got yours, correct?
I could cry but then I flexed my biceps and I was happy again.
That's hawt.
And to be fair, it's easier to beat someone up with your biceps than with your boobs. I would think so, anyhow.
Well now I'm contemplating it.
I think you're right but the visuals that gives me makes me wonder if my sparring partner would let me try to knock him out with my chest.
If I'm not a newbie, am I an oldbie?
That sounds god-awful.
You will always be a newbie to me![]()
Seems a strange time of year for that, unless your year end is June 30?
I've been training for a race (as well as attempting to restore my pre-winter weight and condition).
The fact that I've developed a plantar wart on the sole of my foot isn't making running any easier. The fucking thing hurts when I run. The damn podiatrist can't see me 'til May 15.
My last two runs haven't felt good. I had a sense of being torpid and slow. I suppose the first one was understandable. It was supposed to be an hour-long out-and-back proposition in a group of people 20-30 years younger. Instead, since I don't have a running watch, I just ran out to a mark I knew was 3.05 miles away and used that as my turnaround point. Thus, my total run was 6.1 miles. The folk who organized this stated that they were going to set us running at 0730. I don't know whether they did that or not. In any event, when I finished I asked the time and was told that it was 0815. Thus, in theory, I'd spent an hour and fifteen minutes covering the 6.1 miles. That would represent a horrible time. It was disappointing and I felt like a damn slug.
Yesterday, I ran 3.85 miles on uneven ground following a path through the woods. I run there frequently and keep a record of my times using a digital stopwatch I hide at the start. Once again, I felt like molasses. I just didn't feel like I was running at a normal pace. To make matters worse, half a mile from the finish, I tripped on something (a rock or a tree root) and fell flat on my goddamn face. I was so embarrassed and pissed off (not that anyone saw me as I was completely alone), that I immediately bounced right up without checking to see if I was bleeding or not. To my utter surprise, when I completed the run by sprinting to the hidden stopwatch I discovered that I'd completed the distance in 32 minutes, 35 seconds. That's the best time I've recorded over that course since 2011. Color me amazed and partially gratified— with a minor abrasion.
When I finish the damn race, I intend to gorge on copious amounts of bad and forbidden food.