Tag Archives | i’m a fucking idiot

Un-Celebratory

Anybody that has hung around this blog for more than a few seconds knows that I don’t have the sort of personality that celebrates a New Year. Or anything else for that matter, at least not without one eye looking at the half-empty glass about to fall onto the floor and break. And this year was my best year yet of non-celebrating: a few beers, some TV watchin’, food eatin’, and in bed by nine while Wifey fumed and mentally cursed me and my worsening attitude in the living room below.

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Noise-Bursts & Freight Trains

Today is hopefully the last in a shit show series of posts that went on way too long dedicated to me being ill in one form or another. — Management

Saturday brought Day 7 of Crud 2021 to me and Day 5 to Wifey. I would include B, but he’s 17, and his immune system got rid of his Crud roughly two days after he got it; if he had it at all, he still maintains that he was never actually sick, and it was an allergic reaction to a friend’s cat. Discrepancies on who was Cruded first and for how long aside, it’s been a long week/few months, and I’m happy to see the end of it. 

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What Direction?

For better or worse, I was on a bit of a roll with posting. Then I didn’t for a few days; now I don’t know where to begin. Shit.

From what I can remember, I’ve been balls deep into watching my food intake and working out every single blessed goddamn day like I’m an Olympian as I try to lose the weight that so cleverly attached itself to me via years of being on the antidepressant hamster wheel. 

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Random Present & Futures

Someday this will all be over. Eventually, I will wake up in the morning and know what day it is, and care what day it is. Someday the country won’t be a polarized and divided dumpster fire, and the name of the orange fuck face in the White House will just be a despicable footnote in the pretty darn, not bad history of our country.

Until that day comes, I will keep doin’ what I do to make life fun: ride bikes, take photos, hike trails, love my wife and kid, watch the footy, drink beer, and make food.

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Hydroxychloroquine Might Be My Jam

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.

NOTE: This post has been updated at the request of Soiled Chamois, Inc.’s legal department. See footnote 2.

After two solid days of pandemic inspired “meh,” I fully expected to wake up dick whipped in the face with another dose. Thankfully that didn’t happen.

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One Ain’t Bad

Last week started with about six or seven inches of snow and icy roads that forced schools to cancel. Somewhere in the middle of the week the temps warmed up towards 50˚ and the aforementioned snow all but melted. Then come to the end of the week the temps dropped again and froze the roads solid which aided me in finally getting out for a ride.

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Broke Like The Wind

When I rode last Saturday I returned home mentally broken like expelled wind forced betweenst the ass cheeks of a 300-pound hobo who just finished off a can of ice-cold pork ‘n’ beans. With that brokenness, I puttered and muttered through the week logging several miles of sprint intervals on the dreadmill, a session or two of pedaling nowhere fast on the trainer, perfecting my return to pescatarian eating (80% of the time), and many a night doing 12-ounce curls undoing all the work put into those workouts and diet changes.

Thankfully for all concerned that ended on Saturday when the temps warmed up and I forced myself out onto the slirty1 and snirty2 dirt roads.

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A Need To Refocus

After a week that was filled with doing a lot of stuff that I really didn’t want to do, I was looking forward to the weekend and getting out on my bike. I was, of course, prepared to ride in the snow, ice, and cold temps… it’s winter in Michigan, that shit happens.

Proper clothing, ice-gripping studs, fat tires, and a “Fuck it” (in a good way) attitude help one to make the best out of what winter throws your way, and I have nearly all of those things, yet I still came away from yesterday’s short ride mentally broken.

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Still Looking For a Cure

After three days off the bike due to soccer travel with B, weather, and “stuff,” I was finally able to get out for a ride on a dank fall morning. The ride started off bad, got worse, then got mildly tolerable. There’s no one to blame but myself, for as you all know very well, I. AM. AN. IDIOT.

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