Olympic Fallout

Three weeks of Olympics just doesn't cut it. Despite my skepticism and cynicism about drug-use in all sports, it's still a joy to watch most every event at the Olympics.

I also must note that, when I was bitching about Snowboarding being in the Winter Olympics and the Summer Olympics not having things like BMX (which I don't think it should), I turned on the TV to see BMX racing. Shows how much I know.

Inevitably some dopers are caught, and some are not, and some come up with the most fantastic excuses. Just a little EPO splashing up in the rainwater! There are plenty of rather hilarious excuses that athletes have been used over the years, and you can find several lists of these. One of my favorites was another distance runner, the German Dieter Baumann who claimed someone spiked his toothpaste. 

The thing is, I am sure there are some cases of sophisticated sabotage, but when they come at the same time as significant boosts in performance? Also, I don't exactly treat my body as a temple (depending on your definition of worship), but I'm pretty aware of what goes in there. Yeah, sure, maybe I don't know quite what Chicken McNuggets are made of, but close enough...Ignorance is diabetes and obesity...

Then there is the case of a certain Judo athlete testing positive for marijuana and being kicked out of the games. I guess Phelps never tested positive though there were shots of an enormous bong rip. Seems like some uneven jud[o]iciousness if you ask me. Such is life.

Before I roll on out of here, a quick shout out to my local post office. It's always pretty slow and interesting, not to mention aggravating, in there, but at least it's a shared misery. There's plenty more I could say, but I'd these Yelp reviews get it down pretty good. 

Au revoir.

Sweet Tooth

If there's one thing about me, it's that i've got a hell of a sweet tooth. Actually, that probably isn't at the top of the list for "one thing about me," but I do have a hell of a sweet tooth. If there's one thing about me it's that, for whatever reason, I've been saying, "If there's one thing..." a Hell of a lot lately, with potentially no end in sight. Back on sweets, I've frightened obese people at casino buffets (and standard buffets) with my consumption and I've gotten some looks at the grocery store when I check out with four tubs of Edy's, a couple boxes of cereal and a two-liter of Dr. Pepper. My whole family is really down with sweets as well, and we've got some good bakers, so I often leave the holiday season like many other people: having overdone it. All of a sudden, a few months back, around March, and lasting until well into June (and perhaps beyond — could I qualify this sentence anymore?), my sweet tooth disappeared. I still consumed the periodic sweet but not with the voracity of days past.

I'm happy to say – because I know people were worried – that my sweet tooth is back. When Edy's is on sale for $2.49 it doesn't hurt either. But what I've really been fiending for lately, is cookies. There is probably a strong correlation with the fact that, while running Sunday afternoon, the scent of freshly baked cookies inexplicably wafted through downtown, even way over by the lake shore path. Also, post heavy boozing I think my body tends to crave more sweets due to the exposure to all of the sugars associated with alcohol. Oh, and then there's the 50 miles a week I've been running, which tends to send my body in search of those simple calories and simple joys. So strong was this compulsion that I ordered six cookies and two ice cream cones from McDonald's last night. "Could I get two McChickens..." The cashier looked at me and said "That's it?" Wanting to give into American overconsumption I said, "Oh, and two ice cream cones and six cookies — chocolate chip." She didn't ask if I needed anything else after that. I enjoyed dipping my cookies into my cones, but I confess I wish there were a Mrs. Field's storefront in close proximity.

When I woke up this morning, I was still craving cookies. I checked my email and immediately googled "cookies." Thanks to those featured links, Cheryl and Co popped up. Overpriced and fancily packaged, I was still thinking, "I should order myself a few dozen," and was reminded of how the Home Shopping Network and as-seen-on-TV products must clean up.

On a way more Jersey note, because I always like to stay in touch with the homeland, I read this article about Millburn High School's slut list. Millburn is a ritzy suburban Jersey town (we've got a lot of those) known for having the top-ranked public high school in the state and alumnus Anne Hathaway. Hathaway always struck me as a turd, but I've never met her and I try to be nicer these days. Hell, I'm sure plenty of people that see me as a stranger think I'm a turd. They might not be wrong.

In the interest of one of my other interests, namely booze, a friend recently linked over this 1990 GQ article on the drinking exploits of the late Ted Kennedy (among other things). While GQ is generally about 900 million pages of high-gloss ads, I'm periodically (oh the unintentional puns, sorry Maddox) alerted to some really solid interviews/biopics contained within. This goes on that list.

Finally, amidst a pretty excellent weekend of football viewing, there were these sideline gems that, of course, I was able to find just now with a quick youtubing. First, billionaire oilman and Cowboys' owner Jerry Jones picking his nose on national TV. Not much of a digger, but I'll take it! Far more amusing in my estimation was Bears' QB Jay Cutler having his helmet knocked off by a referee (skip ahead to ~20 seconds to catch it).

I am off to buy some produce and, let's be honest, probably some cookies as well...

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.