My wife and daughter are playing Battleship in the bedroom, and I've got my eye on a nice cinnamon bun with cream cheese icing on it (no actual cheeses were hurt for the frosting). I've been pretty good this week at attempting to preserve my reasonably athletic figure, so I'm gonna let loose this evening, before getting up tomorrow and strapping on my new favorite product...
...the Therma-Care heat wrap! God Bless them. I'm going to write a nice letter to them and get some free ones, just like I did with Shower Soothers, but not as nice because I still have another 8 months worth of Shower Soothers left in my closet.
I'm really feeling 46 in the past week, what with the stress of the job hunting, driving long distances, eating tons with no exercise, auditioning on the radio, more driving, and then pitching 3 innings on my men's little league team. It really knocked me out. I was sore until yesterday. My masseuse almost separated her shoulder trying to knock out the knots in my shoulder and neck.
She also revealed to me that she does it with her eyes closed because she can focus on the muscle problem better, which is a nice way of saying that my back and body are too old and gross for her 25 year old senses, and have an ipecac effect on her, so she has to close her eyes and pretend she's massaging the dude on Smallville.
"No, really. There's this blind guy who does massage around here, and some of my clients say he's good because he's blind, and I kind of borrowed the technique."
A blind masseur? I don't know how I'd feel about patronizing this mythical beast. Yeah, he's blind so you could easily gyp him out of payment, but he's still a guy. Even if it moves and he can't see it, it still moved. No one disputes the fact that if a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it....it still fell! Well, if a tree trunk rises and no one can see it, it still rose. But, a blind masseuse... Now that is an innovation I welcome.
For Sunday's ballgame at Chamblee HS at 4:30pm (good seats still available), I will be wearing the Thermacare patches in select places under my uniform so my muscles don't tighten up on me. It's a great plan. I bought about a two weeks supply worth of Thermacares and will apply them before all games on my shoulder, lower back, and elbow for long lasting warmth through all 9 innings. You would think in a 38+ men's league, they would make the games 7 innings like in kid's leagues, but it probably follows too close to the diaper arc of a man's life. When you start appeasing your body with child's portions, it's close to the end. Next season, I'm thinking of wearing adult diapers on the mound so I can drink more rejuvenating Capri Sun juice boxes between innings.
God bless anyone in the pain relief business and anyone that can keep an aging population physically motivated, be they the ICY HOT people, or the neighborhood pill and dope merchant at the corner pizza shop. We need as many able people in this country as we can muster. And you young'uns better start getting married earlier and get to work on your breeding. This country faces huge challenges, and we need more people, period. We're currently outnumbered by jealous maniacs from other lands, all of whom wish to drink our blood in celebration of our conquer.
Our 300,000,000 doesn't seem like such a big number vs. their 2 billion, and probably as many as 40% of our 300,000,000 is actively rooting for the other team. I gotta be honest, I've become as uninterested in the party politics going on than I ever have, but when over half of our Congress votes to quit a war, it's an eye opener. They've just voted for the certain sacrifice of someone you may be standing next to right now, in order to hold office and enrich themselves for a few more years.
Anyone still a Falcon fan? How did you feel when, in 1999, Eugene Robinson was busted for picking up hookers the night before the Super Bowl? I was at that Super Bowl and, amongst the press, most wanted to go home, seeing a Broncos victory as a formality at that point. Everyone from Atlanta felt sick. It was over. That's what this is. It doesn't matter that the President is going to veto it. The damage has been done. The play book has been given to the other team at halftime, and everyone knows what's likely to happen now.
The United States will ultimately not lose this war. After the next attack on our soil, there are quite a few people around who will dust themselves off and make an immediate appointment with the local Islamic center to have a sincere and very personal discussion about what the future holds. Despite the seeming millions of people who vote with their guilt instead of any coherent moral code, I think they are outnumbered by people who truly do not take for granted the value of living in the US and the system that allows it to fix it's many flaws. Oh, and I do believe that the US military is working on some time travel technology that will enable us to spy on the future and stop our enemies. We will win, but this kinda business just makes it longer and bloodier.
The Democrat Party makes it's living off of people who really feel bad about having more happiness and comfort than others and have giant egos that drive them to dream up all sorts of superhuman plans to assuage their guilt, through attempts to control the weather to cover up their vain and wanton hairspray use over the years, or control people's appetites to hide their own cinnamon roll addictions.
"I drove a car today. Tax me before I kill again."
That's why American Idol just can't accept it's fate as a simple entertainment icon and has to go and ruin it with that awful African beg-a-thon last week. As long as the $50 million they raised was not intended to go down the toilet, that's all that matters.
Truth is, only Africans can really help Africans to get out of their messy situation over there. However, if an outside party is truly interested in clearing a path for them, here's a household hint. Guns and bombs do a lot better job of making the world a safer place than all the money and John Lennon-inspired candy wishes and hot-buttered popcorn dreams that that spiky-haired dimwit was singing about on American Idol last week.
Imagine there's no heaven? Dude, what do you think helps keep motherfuckers in line? Imagine how many more young boys would have been porked by priests had there been no heaven. Hey, imagine no one putting on pious TV shows because there is no God to impress. Maybe the song isn't the worst ever after all.
It doesn't really matter what your philosophy or your politics are when you're dead--unless your philosophy is that death is preferable to life on this unfair planet. Still, you are dead, and the birds and trees and catastrophes will continue their party without you. I'll give you that dead people don't feel much pain or guilt, but wouldn't it be a selfless act to move to Mecca or just swallow a bottle of pills and leave the rest of us out of it?
To all the people who think the war was a bad idea and Bush is a craven liar who just wants to make a lot of oil money so he won't have to live the pauper's life of a president anymore, I say, Otay!. Let's stipulate the war is wrong and Bush is a murderer of innocent, humble people and simple farmers. But he's still the coach of the team you are on. We still have to play the game, because the other team is committed. Putting Coach Clinton or Coach Obama in won't change the fact that when you don't show up to play, you will lose. Even the special needs T-Ball leagues operate on this principle.
Anyway, God bless anyone who makes products that keeps an aging population moving. One day, we'll stop sitting there with birth control balloons hanging off our wicks, devising new ways to couple up non-breeders, and get to patching the people filter, AKA, our borderline.
See you in the duct tape line, amigos.