Confusion

Can someone explain to me Tila Tequila's success? I mean, she doesn't even have a sex tape does she?

I'm a puss

Sunday was my last really long run before I do the Philadelphia Marathon in less than 3 weeks. I ran 21 miles. The second most I've ever done. It was my first run of 16 or more miles where my knees and toes both didn't bother me. Unfortunately the bottom of my feet did. It felt like I was running on just bones. Today I came up with the idea that it's the old punch-in-the-arm to take away the pain theory. My normal pains weren't there, so something else had to hurt. I bet my feet always hurt but the other things hurt more so I didn't feel it.

The theory goes like this. When I was little and someone fell and hurt their leg, the best way to make them forget about their leg pain was to punch them in the arm. Then their leg wouldn't hurt anymore, their arm would. So, I've decided to make a t-shirt to wear when I run the marathon. It will say "Punch me in the face". So, instead of my knees, toes and feet hurting, my face will hurt every time some punches me in the face. Genius!

Hauntless House at Daycare

Go see Kenslee Mouse

Master of Karate.. and Friendship

Last night was a sad day in my household. I finished watching my It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia DVDs. If you're not watching it you're a loser. Plain and Simple. Granted Philly's an entire city of ugly losers, so you'd fit right in here. It's the best show since Arrested Development. Except when I watched the last AD I knew it was over for good. This amazing show is still on the air. Special thanks to Jacob for showing me the light of day. Jacob is my Day Man.




I don't know what I like most about this clip, the paint all over Charlies face from huffing, Dennis' outfit, the amazing song, the dance at the end, or Charlie's awesome long johns.

It's been 3 years since you looked at me.

Three years ago today I wrote my first blog post. I look back at that young and innocent, unmarried, childless person who decided to write something on the internets and I smile. Little did I know that before long I would be posting pictures of starbursts having sex and toenails being ripped off. I didn't know back then I had such high quality blogging within me. Many have come and gone, but amazingly the first two people who started reading this are still blogging. So, to you two, and the 15 others of you that read, I thank you from the bottom of my selfish, shallow, black heart.

WORST. POST. EVER.

As I've mentioned on here before I've been doing a lot of running lately. On Saturday night I officially signed up to run the Philadelphia Marathon which is a month from tomorrow. The past three weekends I've had long runs of 18 miles, 20 miles, and 16 miles. Four years ago I ran it on 12 weeks training and now that I look back at it, I can't live with the time I ran. I did 4 hours 6 minutes. I know I can do under 3 and a half hours now that I've been running all year.

Anyway, after that 18 miler my big toenail turned black and basically came off the base. The 20 miler didn't help and the 16 miler sealed the deal. It was a goner. I had to pull my toenail off.

This is where this post is going to take a horrible turn for the worse*. I advise the squeamish to just stop reading.



Don't say I didn't warn you.


From left to right - ok nail, black nail, ok nail, black nail, about to be goner, gonna be black nail and gonna be goner eventually, ok nail, gonna be black nail, black nail, ok nail



The nail could easily lift away from the base.


VERY easily.



So I pulled and trimed around the edges.



I did this, but this really makes me ill looking at it.


Goodbye nail! Hope you grow back again sometime!


* Please note that no pain was felt during the making of this blog post.

I'm tired, Mon

I'm burnt out. Last night I was looking through my old posts and realized I used to try to be a witty and happy person, but that's just not happening lately. I'm happy at home, but I always write from work and I'm no longer happy at work. And I wouldn't necessarily say I'm unhappy with my job, it's just that my job no longer allows me the time to think of funny things to write. I need a vacation.

So we booked one. We're going to Jamaica. But it's not until January. Kym had airline miles that needed to be used, so we're going away for 4 nights, without the baby. It's a Catch 22 because basically as soon as we started dating we started going on vacations together and that stopped when we got pregnant. We haven't been away since our honeymoon, so we're very excited. But, can I handle 5 days without seeing my daughter? I'm scared I'll hate it the minute we get there. I feel like bad parents, but to have several days in a row where I get to sleep and relax will really rejuvenate me. But, for the next three months I'll probably just continue to write tired shitty posts.

Today was a Good Day.

Tomorrow morning a project that my group has been working on for about 5 months goes live. It's supposed to eventually save the company something around $500 million. It's crazy. Today was like Christmas Eve. Everybody doing last minute things and basically just anticipating tomorrow. We'll all have coal in our stockings if things go bad, or we'll all have the best GI Joe's and Atari games on the market. (Because that's what was awesome when I used to be like this on Christmas Eve.)

But the best part about today was how much more I fell in love with my daughter. Everyday is more and more, but she was in such a happy mood today that when I dropped her off at daycare I just wanted to go back in and bring her home with me. As I was getting her ready for daycare I was like Chris Rock without the profanity. Every word I said was hilarious to her. She listened to everything I said and just oozed love. It was a great morning. Then after work it was much of the same. Lots of reading books together and just a lot of her being awesome and laughing at my hilarity. She knows a funny dude when she sees him.

Tomorrow at this time I'll probably be on my 14th straight hour of work and hating the world, but today... today was a good day.

7 childhood memories

1. Mad Magazine was my favorite when I was little. My brother kept years and years of them. When he stopped buying them I went into the oldest one he had and tore out the order form and got a year subscription. It was so old that instead of the $5 or whatever for a full year it was something like 50 cents. I thought I was going to get arrested for trying to use an old form, but they accepted it. Suckas!

2. In freshman year of high school my friends and I became obsessed with dunking a basketball. We played everyday and worked on it everyday. By Junior year on a good day I could dunk even though I was only about 5 foot 9 at the time. I wasn't good enough to make the high school team, but that's probably a good thing because I ended up with Swimming scholarships in college.

3. But my crowning achievement in sports was a playoff game walkoff homerun in 8th grade. Earlier in the game I had my first strikeout of the year. It was a tie game in extra innings and my coach agreed to call the game because of darkness if we didn't score after my at-bat. I cranked probably my farthest hit ever at the time over the left fielders head. In a hopefully unrelated tragedy, that kid died a few years later from an asthma attack.

4. My main hangout growing up was a church parking lot up the street from my house. We creatively called it "The Parking Lot." We played every sport imaginable there and in the Pee Hole (a walk down basement entrance where we used to pee rather than walk home) the neighborhood floosy showed me her privates. I was probably 7 and don't think I even looked.

5. When I was 12 and just finished 7th grade I got my first girlfriend. She was 15 and going into junior year. When hanging out watching tv she used to put my hand up her shirt. We "dated" for about a month, but we never even kissed. She dumped me for my older brother, then dumped him for his best friend.

6. In about 5th grade a friend of mine was sleeping over. I slept over his house almost every weekend and he finally agreed to sleep at mine. He was a mommas boy. Me and my older brother got in a fight that night and he ended up smashing my head into the concrete basement floor. My friend cried and went home. Me and my brother bonded by laughing about him being a wimp later that night. A little over two year later after my girlfriend dumped me for my brother we got into another big fight which we were blaming on a whiffleball game or something. I was getting bigger than him and it was the first time I actually beat him in a wrestling/fist fight. That was also the last time we got into a fist fight.

7. One thing that really sticks in my head about my parent's relationship from when I was growing up was that my dad used to smack my mom's butt all the time when she was cooking dinner or whatever. Not in a sexual way, just in a casual way. Which is probably why I do that all the time now too.

The Time has Come!?

It's been a long time in the coming. Longer than it should have been. It should have happened last year, it probably should have happened the year before too. But, finally it has been decided. 3pm est on Wednesday afternoon. Why 3pm est? I don't know. The time sucks, but at least it's finally going to happen. Literally hundreds of Philadelphians will rejoice. Thousands across America have been praying for this day to come. Through the laughter and the tears, we've seen some come, we've seen some go. Higher payrolls than most have ever seen, certainly more than deserved. We've had high hopes, we've held our breath through countless comebacks, but the comebacks didn't always deliver. But Wednesday all is forgiven. We will all be redeemed this Wednesday at 3pm est, 12pm pst, as Brintey hands the kids over to K-Fed.

It's always sunny in Philadelphia

Friday afternoon my dad went on a frenzy to get Phillies tickets for Friday night. He got some off stubhub for him, me, and my two brothers. It was a 7:05 start and the stadium is 28 miles from my work. I left at 5pm and got inside the stadium at the start of the second inning at 7:20. an hour and 45 minute drive and a half hour waiting in line to pick up the tickets. The Phillies dominated, it was awesome and the drive hom took me another hour and 45 minutes. So, I spent 3 and a half hours in the car to watch under 3 hours of baseball. But it was worth every second.

Saturday morning I went for an 18 mile run. My knees, legs, joints and muscles are amazingly not sore. But my big toe nail is about to fall off. It kills and I can barely walk. Why do I do it to myself.

Sunday afternoon 75 year old pitcher Jamie Moyer comes through big and the Phillies make it to the playoffs for the first time in 14 years. For the first time in 14 years I think I might like baseball better than football.... because..

We're not going to talk about the Eagles.

Take 3

For the third year in a row the Phillies are right on the cusp of making the playoffs with one week to go in the year. For the third year in a row I will be spending the last week of September throwing shit at the tv in my basement.

I can't wait

In a few more years I'll love having these same conversations that I heard walking out of the Eagles game today with 5 minutes remaining...

Boy (about 6): Why would they take McNabb out? He's awesome?
Dad: To rest him.
Boy: Why do they want to arrest him?
Girl (about 8): They're going to arrest Donovan Mcnabb?!?!
boy: Why would he get arrested?
Dad: Because he's so good they have to throw him him jail.
boy: Whoa.

I wrote this the other day but didn't post it because it's boring, but I have nothing better to write so I'm posting it now.

The half marathon started at 7:45am in front of the Art Museum. The Rocky Steps. We live about 30 minutes from Philly, so we left our house at 6:15am. It was definitely the earliest I've woken up since... about 2 days before when Kens woke up early. So, rather than drive the ways I know, I decided to follow the directions provided on the website. As did about 10,000 of the 12,000 people that ran it. After sitting in traffic forever we parked and started the mini marathon to the start line. It was 7:41 when I got to my corral with a full bladder and an extreme need for my pre-race shit. Lines to the port-a-potties were ridiculous so I decided to try to hold it. So, I crowded into the starting area and the iMayor started us off. It was so crowded for the first mile I just decided to go at the pace of the crowd rather than expend the energy required to pass people. At mile one my watch told me 7 minutes and 52 seconds. About 7 seconds slower than my low end goal. I picked up my pace slightly and the second mile was 7:29. A bit faster than planned, so I backed off. A 7:42, then 7:38. I settled into that pace when we looped back around the Art Museum, and Kens and Kym! Hi! back to back 7:39's and I feel like I'm expending no energy and need to plan on when I'll start pushing my pace. Only 6 miles in now, so I decide I'll keep the same pace and start pushing around mile 10. After 9 miles I hear someone else express exactly what I was feeling "I can't believe we're almost done already." He's right. I need to start pushing now. So, I quicken my pace, 7:30, 7:20, 7:07, 7:02. In the last 3 miles I was able to pick up my pace so much that I dropped my full race pace from a 7:42 average to a 7:32 average to finish in 1:38.45. I finished not all that tired knowing I could have gone a few minutes faster and pretty confident I can take about 40 minutes off my previous marathon time if I decide to do it...

ENOUGH ALREADY!!!

Yes, Cecily Tynan had her baby (and it was born on my birthday). Can we stop with the searches now!!!

And I won't disappoint the fans... Here's the happy couple:




And here's a pic of the baby:

For Melissa

It was suggested I draw a diagram of my incident the other day, but I thought I'd rather animate it..

I almost got in a fight on my run this morning. I was doing 5 miles with 3 at pace.

(Brad Pitt will be playing the part of Me..)





My pace started at a mile marker right before you cross a road in a townhouse development. As I was approaching the street a cheesy Monte Carlo painted like a wannabe Nascar was coming to a rolling stop. I had a full head of steam, so I kept going. (and as a side note I have 25 runs this year on the same trail and about 22 of them crossed that street and I've never once stopped.)




When I was about 10 yards past the road I hear "HEY ASSHOLE! HOW ABOUT STOPPING?" I turn and Monte had rolled down his window and was yelling at me.


(Corey Feldman circa 1989 will be playing the part of Monte)



I yelled back "You're the one with the stop sign!", He yelled back "Yeah, and I stopped, you didn't!"




I yelled "That's because I don't have a stop sign, you have to stop for me ASSHOLE!"



Then I ran like the wind. Scared at every crossroad for the rest of my run that he would be waiting for me to kick my ass.

Handled just like Rocky would have

I almost got in a fight on my run this morning. I was doing 5 miles with 3 at pace. My pace started at a mile marker right beofore you cross a road in a townhouse development. As I was approaching the street a cheesy Monte Carlo painted like a wannabe Nascar was coming to a rolling stop. I had a full head of steam, so I kept going. (and as a side note I have 25 runs this year on the same trail and about 22 of them crossed that street and I've never once stopped.) When I was about 10 yards past the road I hear "HEY ASSHOLE! HOW ABOUT STOPPING?" I turn and Monte had rolled down his window and was yelling at me. I yellled back "You're the one with the stop sign!", He yelled back "Yeah, and I stopped, you didn't!" I yelled "That's because I don't have a stop sign, you have to stop for me ASSHOLE!" Then I ran like the wind. Scared at every crossroad for the rest of my run that he would be waiting for me to kick my ass.

And I Would Run...

It was a lot less dramatic than I imagined. No parade, no fireworks, no marching bands. No firetrucks, no champagne, not even a high five. I had just finished my 3rd mile of a 12 mile run this morning and nothing happened. I had just finished my 500th mile of the year and nothing happened. No strippers, no cash prizes, no hugs or kisses. I though at least a checkered flag was waved after 500 miles, but I saw nothing. What a bunch of shit.

Try not to be distracted by my amazing technologies

The stands in Atlanta were pretty empty tonight when Ryan Howard hit a home run. This girl didn't even have to stand up to get the ball.



But what do we have here...


I think I see panties!!!

Running Rambling

On June 11th I printed out a 14 week plan to train for the Philadelphia Distance Run (1/2 marathon). I wasn't exactly dedicated, but I completed all of my weekend long runs. 7 miles turned to 8, which turned to 9. The first week of August I decided to switch to a 16 week marathon plan to match up with the Philadelphia marathon in November. The daily run dedication still struggles, but the weekend runs have also kept up. Those 9 milers turned into 10, which turned into 12, which turned into 14, which turned into 16 miles that I ran on Sunday morning. On tap for this weekend is an 18 miler, follwed by the half marathon the weekend after that. I

Which brings me to where I'm torn. Do I really want to run a marathon? Runnign 18 miles the weekend before a half marathon is probably a killer. Spending three hours cleaning out my garage after my run probably didn't help the cause, but I was really hurting getting out of bed the past two mornings. The 16 mile run itself ws great. Ran quicker than planned, didn't truly start feeling pain until the last mile or two. I'm in waaay better shape than I was when I actually ran a marathon 4 years ago. But my next 11 weekends would look like this:

18 miles
Half Marathon
7 miles
16 miles
20 miles
16 miles
7 miles
20 miles
12 miles
8 miles
marathon

That's somewhere in the neighborhood of 163 miles and 22 hours of running. And that doesn't include all the weekday miles. Am I crazy? Probably. But damn it felt good to finish that marathon 4 years ago. And to be able to do it about a half hour faster this time would be pretty cool.