Killing January

January, every January, is a slog of a month, and this January is proving to be even sloggier than usual. And by slog, I mean that it’s cold, wet, dark, gray, dreary, snowy, icy, slushy, and mother fucking relentless. 

Seriously, If I thought I could kill January and get away with it, I would do it in a heartbeat! Wait, what? 

I have done next to nothing other than some Dreadmill lumbers, a few rides on the Zwift™ machine, and reintroducing some homemade strength training to my weekly activities in a foolhardy attempt to get my pecks out of my socks and back to where there were last March when FUCKINGCOVID forced me to abort my daily trips to the gym. Sigh, Operation Peck Lift v2.0 just became v3.0, and it hurts. 

Keeping in line with my daily routine since March of 2020, I have also drank a lot of beer, partaken in tomfoolery of various kinds, played a lot of FIFA 21, and made a shit ton of homemade food type things, including my nearly world-famous 250 Calorie Soiled MaMuffin breakfast sandwich. 

Can I get a 250 calorie goddamn?? 

Hell yeah! GODDAMN! 


I just realized the MaMuffin has eyes. (crap iPhone pic)

I also made a collage out of beer, bean, and food remains that littered the kitchen counter recently. Then I felt the need to take a photo of it. I dig collage stuff, but I don’t think this one will get me into any art shows. I did get wasted and gassy, though.

I’m not dead (yet). It’s just January/winter/life in Michigan during a never-ending global pandemic. If ‘Rona don’t get me, my mafia-beaten organs will. Fuck it, want a beer and a Soiled MaMuffin?


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