There are so many intelligent and articulate people covering the hard-hitting
issues in our country these days, that I felt it was my duty to cover the
rather inconsequential bullshit that tends to make up the vast majority of
our lives. Actually, I'll just be griping a lot which, if you weren't aware,
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Indian Takeaway

Not sure whether the recently arrived humidity is to blame for my bizarre nightmares and restless sleep last night, but it's certainly to blame for my appearance of having gone swimming after my run yesterday afternoon. This is the Jersey summer we all know and...loathe. But as much as it saps energy both physical and mental, there is a familiarity to it from which I can still derive some comfort, at least more comfort than dreaming I am a failed waiter who cannot remember his customers orders or how to write them down even. There needs to be a some form of moderate version of a nightmare to define dreams such as this where one really has no call to be frightened and yet finding yourself oddly gripped by panic. For now let's call them slightmares (©Jeb, 7/17/09 12:01pm).

I want to take a moment to finally link to this photo of Jenny Barringer and Gelete Burka at the Prefontaine Classic 1500m. I'd have just uploaded it but the pros who took the photo seemed to not want me to download or hotlink it, so rather than dinking around, I put up that link, which I promise is worth a quick view even if you don't give a shit about running.

In silly sports news from a week or two ago (I'm really on top of my blogging game), Lebron James was dunked on by a high schooler at some camp he hosted. Apparently Lebron did not want anyone to have footage of this and all video evidence has been confiscated. Sports bloggers are pronouncing the sauce weak, citing as well Lebron's reaction to losing to the Orlando Magic, but all I'm saying is "slow news week." As much as this scrutiny and analysis is known to come with the territory of being a well-compensated celebrity, it still sucks a bit of ass in my estimation. But then, I don't have to read about it...

I'd much rather stumble upon goofy paparazzi (paparazzo?) photos of what you might call interesting celebrity fashion choices. Somehow I don't think I'd live it down if my friends saw me wearing either of the following get-ups...

Cristiano Ronaldo

Ed "Chuck Bass" Westwick

Doesn't mean I still might not show up somewhere looking like that. And even though this isn't really that long, for the sake of short attention spans I will wait until my next entry to cover one of my new favorite things: PDA.

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