NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
I woke up Friday morning to a light dusting of snow on the ground (Welcome to Michiganderburgh). Thankfully that would soon melt off, but the temps would never get above 40˚, and the wind was coming right from the Witch’s nip tip. In other words, it was a good day to head out for a woodsy walk with my camera.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
Friday night, I did Friday night things, and some of those things were done in close proximity to Wifey. And if I had to guess, I’d say those things were done well within a 6′ radius of her. I also sat my ass on the back porch by myself and enjoyed the sunny, warm (60˚!) spring evening with a tasty beverage or three. All of that was a great way to end a day of running (or riding) away from problems via exercise and high ABVs.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
Hello Wednesday. If that’s who you really are. You seem a lot like Tuesday, you’re acting a bit like Monday, and you’re trying to get me to do Friday things. OK, I’m all in on Friday things, I really don’t care.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____
I remember going to church when I was younger; I can still remember the smells of musty old men in sad suits that had been farted in a million times, granny perfumes, and wafting incense as the congregation robotically recited prayers that were beaten into brains since birth with the use of fear and guilt.
Winter is not over. That much I’m sure of; this is Michigan after all, land of May snow flurries, and June sweater wearing. However, on Sunday, we got a nice reprieve from the grey skies and the sort of snow, sort of ice, frozen ejaculate that a modern-day mid-Michigan winter spews, with some blue skies, sunshine, and improved temps.
“Mary, Mary, why you buggin’?”
“Proud Mary keep on burnin’.”
“Hail Mary, etc., etc…”
I promise this has something to do with something, but I’m not there yet.
OK, I’ve sat, drank coffee, and poked around the societal and moral train wrecks that are NSFW Reddit pages long enough; it’s time to get to the gym before the students wake up, and the lunch break, New Year’s resolution hordes descend upon my go-to machines.
I would love to post some year-end 2019 love fest, and how I’m looking forward to 2020. Since I lack any ambition to do that, I will just say that I am glad to see the ass-end of 2019.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I have returned. It’s probably more like an unwanted erection rising briefly before returning to a life of shrunken flaccidity betweenst a fatty pubis, but I think you know what I’m getting at.
Lately, I’ve been a bit too lax in my updates on doing stuff. Mostly because I realize now—more than ever—that no one wants to read about a chubby, fair-weather cycling slacker who spends most of his time wandering around the woods with his camera and lifting heavy things for no reason in the gym. But hey, there are pictures!
