Sorry for the delay in the posting. I've been in the process of moving to Portland, Oregon. Great town. And I haven't been in an internet zone for the last few days. Which is a good thing I think, because I was getting all sad and weepy about the move, and I feel like I would have taken it out here. So yeah...
As I flew from Dallas to Portland I casually glanced over at the businessman seated next to me as he sent a text message to his wife. It read: "Dear Wife, the hippies are getting restless, I feel like I'm the only one on this plane without tattoos or piercings." Ok, I made up the "Dear Wife" bit, but I looked around and only saw one person with tattoos.
Order of Business Two:
I went to see the Boston Marathon last week.
At least if you're going to do it, be PRO about it and really chuck those babies up and over everyone else. And then, since I know you entered those co-ordinates into your Ga*min (why are we boycotting typing that?) drive the fifty miles back to get them. And now we're talking about bike racing again.
The event looked as though it went off without a hitch though. Well, ok, maybe there were a few hitches...
-bloody and bleeding nipples -couples holding hands while they ran
-people speaking in tongues -a man in a hotdog outfit
-foot sized blisters -bloddy and bleeding nipples again (use some Vaseline, or Embrocation.)
-costumed avengers
just to name a few...but most people looked like they were having a grand time. Except for the guy in the emergency blanket in the photo below. He wasn't having a grand time at all. Although if he would have casually looked at the sign on the building to his right, I think he could have at least found the humor in that. Right?