Blogging takes time, who knew?! It's something I don't seem to have much of but I'm going to give it another shot.
Here's a shot from Race #2, my coworked Steve and I crossing the finish line. We look really unimpressed but that's about right. This kid keeps me from going batshit at work because he sit in a soundproof room all day that I can use to complain about the office. I love this guy.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/fohrp/5114727495/in/set-72157625115575821/
We don't even look tired. I probably could have kept going but I was overheating in that fancy running jacket, which know that it's colder was well worth every penny of the 80 bucks I spent on it.The tech shirt I wear underneath kind of traps your sweat you so get this weird cold/clammy thing going on after a while. Gross.
This morning the old legs felt good, strong and fast. Realized it was foolish to ignore strength training over the last month and my new goal is to get stonger and faster, rather than going farther (although I may incrementally increase time, but I don't think I'll do long runs over 60 minutes). After the race I went out and ran 2 more miles because that was what the trainin plan called for and I totally bonked and felt sick. Wasted my whole weekend when I should have been being productive. Although I managed ot get myself to the Met and sketch some Renaissance paintings without barfing. An El Greco gave me the spins.
Ok, need coffee and an hour long bus ride to school.
The Punch Line
Light beer, bad photography, running, only child ramblings.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
MOAR
I feel like I went to a million shows this past weekend - but they were all awesome! Keelhaul x2 (!!!), Dysrthmia (thanks Vanessa and Colin <3), Defeatist, Magrudergrind and Fuck the Facts (who I hadn't seen in a few years but were solid and entertaining and as always). I somehow managed to train diligently all weekend in spite of my slightly excessive drinking and late nights. I did almost throw up while doing deadlifts on Saturday, but there was no way I was putting down that barbell to run to the bathroom and blow chunks in front of all those burly dudes. Went on a 6 mile run on Sunday morning by accident because I was kinda hungover and putting one foot in from of the other and all of a sudden I was way the fuck out in Greenpoint. Happy accident I suppose - this race at the end of the month with a giant fucking hill as a third of the course is hanging over my heard and is also the day before I start school again. Urg.
Of course my camera died on Thursday evening, so I only have pics of the great Keelhaul at Santos Party House (aka the House that reeks of vodka and redbull).

Joel shot some video of the Defeatist/Magrudergrind/Fuck the Facts sets on Saturday, will post later.
I'm listening to Blessed Are the Sick (I know you are all shocked that I would be listening to Morbid Angel) and there is this line in the lyrics of "Abominations" -"Come and carry my curse" that I always think of as "come and carry my purse" because it cracks me the fuck up to think of David Vincent calling up some beast from the depths of hell just to carry his knock off designer hand bag in the mall while he looks at black vinyl adult fucking jumpers. He's a douche now (Genitorturer's anyone?) but I forgive him I guess.
With the amount of talking about lifting weights and Morbid Angel that is going to go on around here, those who don't know me personally are going to think I'm some kind of angry basement-dwelling neanderthal.
Uh... well. Sometimes we all have to embrace the basement-swelling neanderthal side of our personalities.
You guys have one too right?
Of course my camera died on Thursday evening, so I only have pics of the great Keelhaul at Santos Party House (aka the House that reeks of vodka and redbull).
| I don't think I could ever get tired of watching this man play guitar. Or Chris, for that matter. |
I'm listening to Blessed Are the Sick (I know you are all shocked that I would be listening to Morbid Angel) and there is this line in the lyrics of "Abominations" -"Come and carry my curse" that I always think of as "come and carry my purse" because it cracks me the fuck up to think of David Vincent calling up some beast from the depths of hell just to carry his knock off designer hand bag in the mall while he looks at black vinyl adult fucking jumpers. He's a douche now (Genitorturer's anyone?) but I forgive him I guess.
With the amount of talking about lifting weights and Morbid Angel that is going to go on around here, those who don't know me personally are going to think I'm some kind of angry basement-dwelling neanderthal.
Uh... well. Sometimes we all have to embrace the basement-swelling neanderthal side of our personalities.
You guys have one too right?
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
First Time for Everything
I suppose today is as good a day as any for a first blog post. At the risk of scaring away any potential followers I'll keep the words to a minimum and instead dive right into the bad photography.
Tonight's other activities included making kombucha. Slowly but surely pretty much all the mass-produced brands like GT have been taken off the shelf, but I was lucky enough to have snagged a "mother" at a fermentation workshop back in June. So far one back was successful but way too sweet, while another was sacrificed to pure laziness and turned into some sort of vile liquid which is likely very alcoholic but definitely smells revolting. Kombucha mothers look like pancreas:
Some other highlights from tonight include blurry photos of some house flies doin' it in my bathroom. Lately for some reason J has taken to asking me questions about flies because they are constantly buzzing around in the kitchen due to the heat. I don't know much about house flies, but he has decided that I am an entomologist and that it's more fun to ask me instead of Google if flies "do it". The answer is unequivocally yes.
I really like this view from my apartment, no thanks to the person who spilled brown paint on the glass:
I was trying to take a photograph of this sad little plant that has had precious more than old cigarette butts as food for almost 2 years, but the next picture yielded a neat cloud formation:
Tonight's other activities included making kombucha. Slowly but surely pretty much all the mass-produced brands like GT have been taken off the shelf, but I was lucky enough to have snagged a "mother" at a fermentation workshop back in June. So far one back was successful but way too sweet, while another was sacrificed to pure laziness and turned into some sort of vile liquid which is likely very alcoholic but definitely smells revolting. Kombucha mothers look like pancreas:
| Blurry Bug Porn - Marty Stouffer's Wild America, this is not.... |
Random shots from this weekend:
| To think someone spent good money on this and then discarded it on top of an old boxspring! sdgjdfksdfj! |
| BRAAAAIIINNNSSSS |
| Pigs flew on White Street |
| The sky was beautiful, impossible to capture, at least with my lack of skills. |
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