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.

Monday, May 16, 2011


Not to be confused with condomints of course, the minty-fresh safe-sex option product I never released. One day, that along with complimints—the mints that say nice things about you in the wrapper—shall continue to not exist. Condiments are on my brain though (no not literally you sillies, old mustard-brain Solomon) but, like, I'm thinking about them because they were the savior of a sandwich I was afraid to eat. Rare are those occasions on which I consume canned tuna but given a far too long stretch of fishlessness, I decided I could settle for the canned variety. As it stands, I made grave error my last excursion to purchase canned tuna, opting for chunk white. While not as vile as chunk light, as I opened the can, worry creased my face. But waste not want not and the best way to learn a lesson is to eat it. So I dropped in some olive oil (mayonnaise is my nemesis) and chili powder and adobo, because those were in my spice cabinet. It's difficult to determine whether these had great effect on increasing the palatability of the primary constituent part of my sandwich, but Grey Poupon really saved the day. The conclusion is that condomints can keep a _______ smelling minty fresh, and condiments can keep flavor fresh. Both can mask something otherwise gross.

Another of the primary things on my brain is the death of reigning Olympic and Chicago marathon champ Samuel Wanjiru. The circumstances are exceedingly strange. That immediately one of the police investigators was shouting to the media that it was a suicide speaks to one of many cultural differences between The United States and Kenya. When I have such little grasp of circumstances, I like to keep any judgment in check so I'll just say that I loved to watch the man run and was impressed by the way he competed. As a distance runner myself, the desire to run long distances may or may not be indicative of a mind somewhat less stable than what is alleged to be the mental standard. If further proof was needed of how insane things can be over in Kenya, I'll forgo some of the stories told me secondhand from visitors and cite this tale of random assault of former (and would-be otherwise current) Division III star Peter Kosgei.

Well, at this juncture I really must be making some ambulatory motion from my current sedentary perch. Chicago, I shall bid you adieu temporarily in some 40 hours. If you could find it within your weather to warm in the days of my absence, I am sure the other residents might be just as appreciative as I.

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