A Moment of Silence

Hey there, 'Redheads... Welcome back from the weekend. I was going to have my usual blog full of blather and bluster. I was ready to give you a recap of the Oscars and Charlie Sheen's latest ranting. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. I got kicked in the gut this morning by the news that my friend, high school classmate, and my first college roommate, Adam Lilling, died suddenly yesterday. I'm dumbfounded and devastated. Today was spent corresponding with friends about funeral arrangements and reminiscing about the last time we talked to Adam. It's tough to come to terms with someone passing in his 30's, especially when you're also in your 30's. No word on a cause of death, but no cause I can think of would make sense anyway.

Adam wrote the closing poem in our high school yearbook for our senior year. I'd like to share that with you...

Eternal Now and Again

Walls crumbling

dictators fallen under their tide

desolate soil nourishes feeble limbs,

yet the leaves turn yellow in autumn

and the sea breeze still stings our face.

Wide-eyed twilight moon, gazing into our tomorrow

sun glares in our eyes as it has for infinite yesterdays

and the trees will grow from the ground.

A world turning steadily ahead in circles

but to us it's different, not the same reality

always higher or lower - incessantly in flux

Tomorrow beckons.

We'll miss you, Adam.

Friday Round Up

Hey there, 'Redheads... For all of you who were working for the weekend, congratulations, you've arrived. I just got back from a show at my alma mater, the University of Maryland, to judge a preliminary round of the District's Funniest College competition and tell jokes to the disaffected youth. Not only was the audience packed, but all of the fifteen contestants acquitted themselves nicely. Go Terps. Afterwards, I got to talking to a couple current members of the sketch comedy group I helped found, Sketchup. They'll be having their 15th anniversary show in April. I feel proud and old at the same time.

Apparently, Charlie Sheen has gone Busey on us. If you haven't heard his radio rant from yesterday, he referred to himself as a "Vatican assassin warlock." If that's not the next movie on SyFy Channel, I'll be sorely disappointed. He can fight Sharktopus. He rambled for about twenty minutes about how he's healed himself with his mind and how he's unappreciated for polishing turds into comedy gold. Do yourself a favor and give it a listen. It makes Mel Gibson sound like Frasier Crane. Now CBS has halted production on Two and a Half Men and everyone is worried what will become of one of the highest rated sitcoms on TV. I have a simple solution for them. Something that has worked for shows like Happy Days and Married with Children. Two words: Ted McGinley. He's plug and play. Give him a call. I bet his schedule is wide open.

The Oscars are Sunday and the only thing I'm really looking forward to is the In Memoriam segment. I've only seen two of the flicks that are up for Best Picture, Inception and The Fighter. All I know is, Inception was one of the most satisfying movie going experiences I've had in about five years. It was original and well made. Right now, my opinion of the movie industry isn't great. So many remakes and reboots and regurgitated crap in 3-D. There are plans in the works to remake Fletch, Highlander, and to reboot Spider-man and Superman. Hollywood, reboot thyself. Just re-release the original movies. You're just trying to mine the nostalgia anyway. Howabout you leave our memories alone and go make some new ones, huh? By the way, if you pay money to see Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son, we can't be friends anymore. Just putting that out there.

See you Monday.

A Little Chili

Hey there, 'Redheads... Happy National Chili Day to you and yours. I just got back from the Hard Times Cafe, where I did my patriotic duty and enjoyed a free bowl of meat. That's right, at the Hard Times Cafe, you got a free bowl of chili with any purchase. So, I washed down my glass of sweet tea with a heaping bowl of Texas chili. As I was wiping away the last crumbs of cornbread, the waitress said something that I found odd. She was a bit frazzled by the uptick in business on this glorious day and she told me that people can be mean when they get free food. They were getting indignant and angry upon finding out they had to pay extra for toppings, like sour cream and jalapenos. You ungrateful bastards. Free food is one of the most joyous things in this world, and you have to sully it with your pettiness. When a nice lady, working for tips, is good enough to bring free food to your table, you greet her with a smile. Don't make her job harder by being petulant. When our forefathers declared today National Chili Day, they wanted to reward the people with a warm hearty bowl of goodness and allow us to share in the spirit of togetherness that free chili brings. Don't get greedy. Enjoy your free chili and don't look at the bowl as half empty.

See you Friday.

Picture Page

Hey there, 'Redheads... They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, then this blog will contain roughly five thousand words. I was going through my camera after telling you about my trip to Calvert Cliffs, and I realized that I had a bunch of random shots on here that I've never shared. Mostly things I found odd or amusing during my comedy road trips. So, in the interest of padding the blog like a 14 year old girl's bra on her first date, here we go...A typo? At a Hooters? I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here. Either it was a typo or there was a Mothers Against Drunk Driving event going on. Everybody else seemed all for it, however.

I call this one, "Sweet Victory, Sweet Tea."

Here's a creepy wall of puppets I found at J*R Discount Outlet that should adequately haunt your nightmares.

No comment.

Here's a receipt I got at a Donato's in Lake Norman, NC. Check out how the girl behind the counter chose to spell my name. JARADD. I don't mind that she mixed up the vowels, but what's up with the double D? I've never seen anyone stutter at the end of someone's name before. It looks like I'm a henchman in a skateboard gang. I've seen many misspellings of my name, but I've never seen it turned into a Picasso like that before.

And, finally, here's a prize that was available at the North Carolina State Fair. A stuffed Michael Jackson. Let's get beyond the irony of winning a stuffed MJ for your child to cuddle with. I've never seen a stuffed version of an ACTUAL PERSON. Characters, sure, but last time I checked, Michael Jackson wasn't fictional. Happy Black History Month, by the way. Stay classy, North Carolina. Sheesh.

See you Thursday...

Alone Time

Hey there, 'Redheads... This installment of the blog may be more of a rambling mess than usual. My girlfriend is gone on a business trip to sunny San Diego and I've been left to my own devices. One device in particular, my Sega Dreamcast, has been occupying the bulk of my time since I got home from work. And I wasn't even playing a game from when Dreamcast was new. I was frying my eyeballs playing Shining Force, which originally came out when I graduated high school. Still holds up. Since I don't have to divide my attention between it and her, I decided to plug in and make up for a couple days of neglect. She gets flowers, it gets its buttons mashed. Games like that eat time and in that time, you forget to eat. Want a great diet plan? Get invested in a turn based RPG. Your eyes will be a little sunken, and your complexion might get a little pallid, but the rapid eye movement really burns the calories. In the blink of a bloodshot eye, three hours were gone. It was only because I set an alarm that I realized that I needed to get typing to make my arbitrary deadline. Anywho, I'm done interacting with the imaginary forces of good and evil and I'm ready to interact with you, my imaginary readers.

Happy 93rd Birthday to legendary television voice, Don Pardo. He's been the voice behind countless TV programs and gameshows, including Saturday Night Live, which he continues to do even in his 90's. Here's a fun trivia question for you. Don Pardo is one of only two people to have a lifetime contract with NBC. Can you name the other person? If you answer it correctly, Mr Pardo would tell you that you've won a twenty volume set of the Encyclopedia International, a case of Turtle Wax, and a year's supply of Rice-A-Roni, the San Francisco Treat. But that's not all!

The State Department has issued a travel warning for Libya. Great, now Spring Break is ruined. Do you really have to tell people not to go to Libya? Maybe there is some hidden exotic destination somewhere over there, but even if you get a great rate from Travelocity, I'm pretty sure most people will be able to pass on the deal. If you have your bags packed and have your Southwest boarding pass tucked in your jacket pocket and it takes a State Department travel advisory to tell you it might be a bad idea to check out Six Flags Over Tripoli, they should just stamp your passport with a big red DUMBASS. Just sayin' is all.

See you Wednesday...

Prez Dispenser

Hey there, 'Redheads... Happy President's Day to you and yours. The day when we celebrate the presidents of the past, like George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, and the presidents of the modern day, like David Palmer and Bill Pullman from Independence Day. It's because of them that we're able to get such great deals on mattresses and cars. While some presidents are well known to us, there are some that remain a mystery...

So, here's my gym update thus far. I've been going and sticking to the regimen that the trainer showed me. I tried to kick it up a notch and take a cardio kickboxing class today. Here's a sure sign that such a class is not for you: your field of vision starts to narrow five minutes in. Holy crap, am I out of shape. My girlfriend tells me that the burning in my lungs was normal, but that was red flag for me. I gave it what I could before stumbling out of the class to try to catch my breath, which left a couple minutes before.

On Sunday, my gal and I embarked on a road trip. We flipped a series of coins to figure out which direction to go, and south won. We ended up at Calvert Cliffs State Park...It was pretty scenic. It was a picturesque (because I took pictures) two mile hike out to the cliffs, which were essentially carved out of years of erosion. They were made of sand and clay. People are encouraged to dig through the layers to try and find fossilized shark teeth and such. I had been spoiled for nature after my visit to the Grand Canyon last year, but enough time had past that I wasn't so jaded that this wasn't cool to look at. Nature is fun, when it's not trying to kill you. Here are some other shots from our hike...I'm a regular Ansel Adams. Anyway, it's a fun way to spend a Sunday if you've got nothing to do. It was about an hour and a half drive and Solomon's Island is right near by, if you dig seafood.

See you Tuesday.

Friday Night Videos

Hey there, 'Redheads... Another gorgeous day in DC-land. Ice cream men and women got themselves a bonus day to peddle popscicles if they were able to wake from their hibernation, wipe the sleep out of their eyes, and jump start the truck. Everyone was out and about today, test driving frisbees and letting children off their leashes to frolic. I hope you got your lazy butts outside and cleansed your insides with some fresh spring-like air. If you did, cherish it because in a matter of moments that fresh air is going to whip up 50+ mile per hour winds and try to forcibly take that breath back. I'd like to go a week without the weather forecast including something out of a biblical wrath story. Topper Shutt might as when grow a beard like Evan Almighty at this point. You've enjoyed the good, so now it's time to hunker down and outlast the oncoming bad. To that end, for your viewing pleasure, and so I don't have to type as much, I offer some shiny moving pictures to gawk at rather than twist in the wind...

I give you action...

I give you sarcasm...

And I give you kids saying the darndest things...

Are you not entertained? Then go fly a kite. Except tonight, the kite flies you. I don't know what I'm talking about either. See you Monday.

Hot Hot Hot

Hey there, 'Redheads... Urp. Excuse me. I am stuffed. I just got done having hipster fish n' chips: sushi and tater tots. Do yourself a favor, if you ever get to Sticky Rice on H St, order the Bucket of Tots. Food is always better when served in a bucket. That's sage advice from the Colonel to me to you. I hope everyone is enjoying this sudden onset of beautiful weather in the DC area. Savor it. Drink it in. It'll probably snow next week. Remember, if you don't like the weather in DC, wait a minute. There's a scientific reason why we're heating up. No, not global warming, silly. The sun is trying to kill us...

A magnitude X2.2 solar flare that occurred on Monday will reach Earth during the late hours of February 17th, with the potential for geomagnetic storms and spectacular views of the aurora borealis, or the northern lights. This latest solar flare happens to be the strongest unleashed by the sun in nearly four years.

Yeah, so enjoy the sixty degree weather, because apparently we're being preheated. Somebody call Michael Bay, Bruce Willis, and Steven Tyler. They're the only ones that can save us. The flare could potentially wreak havoc with GPS satellites and electronic devices. Thanks for not letting that havoc keep you from reading the blog, by the way. You guys are real troopers. One thing I'm sure of, somebody's getting superpowers out of this.

Speaking of things trying to kill us, Watson, IBM's gameshow murderbot, took the first step toward overthrowing humanity and crushed two of our biggest nerds on Jeopardy. The last three days was just so IBM could show off their vast improvement on the Magic 8-ball. All that was missing was someone putting a top hat on it and having it sing "Puttin' on the Ritz." With defeat imminent, Ken Jennings took it all in stride...I think Ken then challenged Watson to a foot race. Or thumb wrestling. We're doomed.

But, at least tomorrow is Friday. 'Til then.

Take a Look, It's in a Book...

Hey there 'Redheads... Happy Hump Day to you and yours. Since I started writing this blog on a weekdaily basis, you might have noticed that, on some days, the content can be a little thin. There've been some days where flies have been buzzing around the blog's eyes. So, I'm a big fan when the news drops a turnip in my lap from which I can squeeze some blood...

From the Washington Post: Yet another analog bookseller has taken a step closer to a digital demise. Borders filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy this morning, hoping to restructure its finances and reboot its operations.

That's right, folks, Borders has filed for Chapter 11. Why don't they just wait for the movie to come out? I'm guessing that's not Chapter 11 of "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People." Don't spoil it for me. I haven't gotten past Chapter 3 yet. Gee, I wonder where Borders could find information about navigating a bankruptcy? If you go to a Borders and there's a copy of "Bankruptcy For Dummies" left on the shelf, then they're just not trying. I bet there's at least one guy in Arizona who woke up this morning, saw the story about Borders closing and said, "'Bout time." What sucks is, most people probably read this story online. Everything is online now. I'm not writing this with a quill and ink. It's only a matter of time before books are quaint relics. It stinks, but it's true. Our culture is lazy, and books are heavy. You can put an entire library on an iPad now. This is bad news for a large segment of our economy. Makers of bookshelves and sassy bookmarks will have to find a new skill set. The loss of Borders is a mixed blessing, if you think about it. That's one less place where people can buy Snooki's book.

Speaking of light reading, I passed a sign on the beltway that said "DUI Enforcement Area". That seems to imply that in every other area, they'll just let it slide.

See you Thursday.

R.I.P. Inspector Kemp

Hey there, 'Redheads... Today, we lost another cast member from one of my favorite movies, Young Frankenstein. Actor, Kenneth Mars died today at the age of 75, from pancreatic cancer. Some of you may not recognize the name, but you'd recognize the face. He's probably best known for his role in the original The Producers...

If you've never seen it, and you've been brainwashed by the remake that was spawned from the musical, do yourself a favor and shove it to the front of your Netflix queue. Bar none, one of the funniest movies ever made. As I mentioned before, he also had a prominent role in another movie that easily ranks in my top five, if no the top five, Young Frankenstein...

Come to think of it, that movie was turned into a musical too. Kenny, we hardly knew ye...

See you Wednesday...

Love is a Many Splendored Blog

Hey there, 'Redheads... Love is in the air, everywhere you look around. Happy Valentine's Day to all of my readers. I hope you all took advantage of the first bona fide beautiful day of 2011 and shared some time with your respective sweeties. And an extra special Valentine's Day wish for the special gal who puts up with my daily shenanigans. She finds my crass mannerisms cute and adorable, and if this blog was the highest rooftop, I'd be happy to loudly proclaim that I love her. We just got done eating heart shaped ravioli. I'll give you a moment to grab your insulin. We should celebrate love, while we still have semi-exclusive rights to it. Pretty soon, IBM will find a way to hard wire it into a computer and show it off on The Newlywed Game. I don't know if you watched Watson, the IBM computer, compete on Jeopardy tonight, but humanity is holding its own so far. Part two of the show airs tomorrow night, and you owe it to the species to root against this infant version of Skynet. When it gets to Final Jeopardy, I'm guessing it's final wager will be us. Until that day, when our laptops recharge their batteries with our blood, celebrate love.

Love comes in many forms. As I rediscovered over the weekend, love is a Thin Mint. I turned the corner at Eastern Market, and I heard a chorus of angels as the folding table with its crunchy sweet boxes of happiness appeared before me. Sure, the Girl Scouts have jacked up the price another fifty cents, but would you let fifty cents keep you from bliss? I think not. And ignore the serving size they put on there. Four cookies? Pshaw. One sleeve is the recommended serving.

There is also love between a man and his dog, and I've never seen that love expressed so purely as it is in this video...

I smell a cross over between Dancing With The Stars and Animal Planet. Just don't ask me where I smell it.

Today is not only Valentine's Day, of course. Another big event happened today. The release of Marvel vs. Capcom 3...

I've been waiting a long time to mainline this game into my eyeballs. I welcome whatever seizures may come with it. Maybe I was wrong about Watson. Maybe the machines will just use games like this to turn our brains into tapioca pudding. Whatever, I like pudding.

See you Tuesday...

Filler, Buster...

Hey there, 'Redheads... I'll level with you, I've got nothin'. This is just being written to fill space, so I may keep the streak alive. So, let's see how long my stream of consciousness can go 'til it runs dry. Speaking of the streak, it will be coming to an end. March 4th is going to be my last planned consecutive entry. Pending a few details to be worked out, I'll be on a plane to New Orleans for a double shot of debauchery, a buddy's bachelor party and Mardi Gras, the next day. I don't see much blogging getting done up through Fat Tuesday. Rest assured, you'll get a big fat hungover entry of all of my fuzzy memories and thought out alibis from the trip.

I'm not sure what to expect. I'm excited, but I'm also filled with dread. Sure, this crosses Mardi Gras off my bucket list, but I don't want to be puking into that bucket. I'm looking to have a good time, not a sequel to The Hangover. I'm an old 35, and most of the people down there will be hammered twenty-somethings. My heavy drinking days are behind me and I hate being caught in loud teeming mobs of drunk people, I don't care how many boobs are involved. I may try to treat the trip like a safari. New Orleans is the natural habitat of the drunk tramp. It's fitting that so many guys will attempt to track their mating habits. So, this will either be an amazing time, or my own personal hell. Many consider New Orleans to be the devil's waiting room anyway. So, we'll see. Nothing's official just yet. Like I said, I'm just trying to fill space.

Before I sign off, Happy Birthday to Thomas Edison. Somehow it seems wrong to put candles in the cake.

Have a good weekend. See you Valentine's Day.

Thursday Random Crap

Hey there 'Redheads... Today is a day of rest for me. I've had a couple late nights in a row, combined with teetering on the edge of illness, so my batteries are in need of a recharge. To that end, this space will be sprinkled with a couple quick observations you may have already seen on Facebook. But, if you didn't catch them there, then they'll be new to you.

I saw this on a license plate yesterday...
I was able to figure out that the owner of the car meant to say "Winnie the Pooh" (WIN-E-D-POO). At least, I hope that's what they meant. At first glance, the message they send is "classy drunk incontinence". If I ever got a vanity plate, this is what I'd get...
Guys, if you're stuck on what to get your special someone for Valentine's Day, fear not. Papa John's has your back. You can order a heart shaped pizza. Aww, isn't that cute? What better way to say, "Honey, you are the garlic butter sauce of my life." Tell her that your love for her is so big that it clogs your arteries.

I'm pissed about the new Harry Houdini action figure that I saw at the store. If it was really Houdini, the package would be empty.

And finally, here's a piece of eye candy for you to suck on...

See you Friday. I'm going to bed.

No NFL Make Fans Something Something

Hey there, 'Redheads... I'm a solutions oriented guy. I hate hearing that two sides of a major issue are at an impasse. The impending NFL lockout looms over the sports world as fans brace themselves for potential missed games next season. Sure, the big sticking point for the players is the 18 game season that the owners are trying to push through at the expense of player health. All big issues. You know what the fans care about? Having to watch bowling because football isn't on. Having to spend time doing chores and shopping with significant others. Having to actually do work because our fantasy football teams are playing golf. Having to resort to gambling on the WNBA (take the under, btw). Productivity will skyrocket. Fresh air consumption will go through the roof. Couch cushions will retain their original shape. The collateral damage will be tremendous. In order to avert this potential catastrophe, I offer a simple solution that will offer a suitable alternative to the fans in the NFL's absence. Something to keep us locked in during the lockout. Two words: Televised Madden. Why not? The graphics already look damn near real life...

Get a player representative from each team, or a lucky fan, to take the controller from week to week and play out the season. You could even turn off the commentary (but it's Gus Johnson, so why would you?) and have the respective network broadcast teams call the games. Don't act like you wouldn't watch. It'd be a better quality product than the UFL. Or they could always televise the Puppy Regular Season. I'm just spitballing here. Let's just hope it doesn't come to this. Get your poop in a group, NFL. The Redskins have horrible decisions to make and I have a fantasy football crown to defend.

See you Thursday.

Sick Day

Hey there, 'Redheads... I'm still sick. I wanted to expound on the ad nausea of the Super Bowl, but my head is in too much of a haze to cobble together anything resembling coherent or funny. Yeah, I know, what's been my excuse up until now? Touche. Anywho, in order to keep the streak going, I'll use the preferred method of hungover teachers. Put on a filmstrip and put my head down in the back of the room. So, enjoy this pretty awesome short film, Lazy Teenage Superheroes. It's got cool characters, great special effects, an original presentation, and it was all made for roughly $3000. It beats the crap out of alot of big studio stuff out there...

Hopefully, I'll be done with my mucous fueled dream quest by tomorrow. 'Til then...

The Bloginning

Hey there, 'Redheads... I'm just coming to after a combination of a humdinger of a Super Bowl and a wicked head cold. Benadryl is a hell of a drug. Yes, my nasal passages were rooting for Green Bay as they leaked green and gold all night. The rest of me was firmly behind them as well, mostly because I had $20 riding on them, but also because I picked 'em on this blog and I didn't want to muck up my playoff prognostication streak. Congrats to the Packers and a special shout out to Kenyan Steeler fans, who are thrilled their team was finally able to win a second championship.

But the Super Bowl isn't just about the game, it's all of the pomp and circumstance that go along with it. Like Christina Aguilera, who looked suspiciously like Snooki in a blond wig, singing the national anthem, kinda. I wasn't paying attention to her performance enough to catch it, but it lit up the internet like a Christmas tree, so I feel like I can expertly comment on it. I have a helpful performance hint that would've avoided this embarrassing flub. Rehearsal? Heavens, no. Civics class? No. Howabout you tattoo the lyrics on the inside of your eyelids, so when you're soulfully closing your eyes to hit those unnecessary notes, you can make sure what gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. It's not only one of the shortest, but one of the most ubiquitous songs in our culture. It goes "Happy Birthday", then "The Star Spangled Banner", then "Baby" by Justin Bieber. Luckily for Christina, she wasn't the most horrendous performance of the night. That honor goes to Fergie from The Black-Eyed Peas. I'm not exactly sure, but I think when she started singing is when I started showing symptoms. I was excited for the halftime show, too, because I read an interview with Will.He.Is, and he said they were going to take it "to the next level." Little did I know, he meant literally, as they were lowered from the top of the stadium to the...next level. What a shit show that was. The Peas are a great studio group, but as a live show, they make The Spice Girls looks like Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. Good thing they bought out the Lite-Brite aisle of Sam's Club to help distract from the autotuned awfulness. The only real singer in the group is Fergie, who trained with the prestigious Kids Incorporated. Maybe she was just overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, or maybe her dress gave her a momentary epileptic fit, but all I know is it takes a pretty wretched performance to make me miss Axl Rose. It took some real restraint by Slash to not go upside her head with his guitar. Then, after the glowing cube heads finished prancing around the stage, Will.U.Ain't asked the question, "Where is the love?" then "The Beginning" flashed on the jumbotron. My immediate reaction was, "Dear God, don't let them start over again."

The commercials, on the whole, were forgettable. It was nice to see that the pooches from The Puppy Bowl were able to score endorsement deals. Was it just me, or did every other ad have dogs in it? Could've been reparations from the whole Michael Vick incident. Maybe I'm just jaded, or maybe my head was too full of mucous, but nothing really stuck with me.

See you Tuesday.

Shellfish Shocked

Hey there, 'Redheads... It's damn near midnight on Friday, so the streak remains unbroken. I just got home from a a fun night out with some pals, dismembering, dipping, and devouring crustaceans over at Hot n' Juicy Crawfish over in Woodley Park. If that sounds familiar, it's because the Las Vegas location was featured on Man vs. Food. It was primally delicious. There's nothing quite like taking apart an animal with your bare hands, then slurping it down your gullet, leaving behind nothing but a pile of empty husks.We went through about six bags of mollusks, ranging from crawfish, to crab legs, to shrimp. And those that were not eaten, were made to dance for our amusement.

S'alright? S'alright.

Speaking of devouring, I'd like to share an awesome picture with my fellow dorks out there...Yeah, I'd say that's a fair fight.

Before I sign off, here's my pick for the Super Bowl. I take the cheese to stand alone. And for the Puppy Bowl, take the under.

See you Monday.

Good Pain

Hey there, 'Redheads... Happy Chinese New Year...in bed. Wow, is it the Year of the Rabbit already? The time does fly. So, remember, a couple blogs ago, when I told you that I was going to the gym? Rockin' the treadmill, breaking sweat like plates at a Greek wedding. Yeah, well, y'know what I wasn't doing? Any actual exercise. When we redeemed the Groupon over at Results Gym last week, I signed up for a one time consult with a trainer, so I could make sure I wasn't doing anything incorrectly. Well, that consult was today. The initial result? OUCH. I'm more lactic acid now than man; twisted and evil. I wince when I walk, I whimper when I sit, and I whine when I stand up. Then my girlfriend reminds me that I am a giant baby. She's tough, but fair. I have muscle groups that have woken up out of a three year coma. My biceps are pissed because I didn't maintain their haircut and my glutes can't believe the president is black. This is what I wanted, though. The pain lets me know that I actually did something and begs me to never do it again. We went through a pretty basic regimen that included lunges, push-ups, dips, and curls. The lunges came first and after the second set, my legs turned to pudding. I was about as sure footed as Bambi on a frozen pond. And most of these exercises were done in front of a mirror so I could see my face contort with each exasperated rep. All of this will hopefully get my cardio up to a level of non-embarrassment. The goal I've set for myself is to run in Survive DC when it comes around again this year without wheezing after the first all out sprint. I'll, of course, keep you posted. I'll have a bag of frozen peas on my ass in the meantime.

See you Friday.

The Shadow Knows...

Hey there, 'Redheads... Good news from the immortal Pennsylvanian prognosticator, Punxutawney Phil. He did not see his shadow this year, so it's nothing but sunshine and lollipops because Spring is just around the corner. Unless you live in the 75% of the country that is currently being flash frozen by yet another brutal cold snap. It's snowing in Dallas. It's so cold down there, the Green Bay Packers decided to practice indoors. I think either Phil is going blind or maybe he was just being sarcastic. Y'know who else didn't see their shadow today? This guy... I've been to Punxutawney and I know the inner workings of the groundhog illuminati. Read all about it.

In other news, the Terps take on the current incarnation of evil in the NCAA, the Cobra Kai of college basketball, Duke tonight in College Park. Duke is the only good team in the ACC right now and the Terps are young and inconsistent. Duke is coming off having their asses handed to them by St. John's, so they're going to be angry but the Terps always play them hard, including a close loss against the Dukies in their house. If we win, look for the plume of smoke from the celebratory couch burning. If we lose, look for the plume of smoke from the despondent couch burning. Either way, the Terps express themselves through charred upholstery. I just want them to play well and give a couple hard fouls to that sweaty orc, Kyle Singler...He hasn't seen his shadow either because it ran away.

See you Thursday...

Tuesday News Day

Hey there, 'Redheads... After I got done with yesterday's blog, I realized that I had neglected worldwide goings on in favor of a comedian's hair. So, let's broaden our scope and take a look at the news of the day. Like the ruckus in Egypt...Wait a minute. FOX News might need to fire a staff cartographer. To be fair, at least the map doesn't have "BAD PEOPLE" scrawled on it in red crayon. Isn't Egypt part of Africa? I have to admit that I don't know where Egypt is either, but I'm not a major news organization. Ah, here it is...Good thing Egypt can't be offended by the mix up, because the government TURNED OFF THE INTERNET. I'm not sure what effect that would have on us. We'd either take to the streets with a pitchfork app or we'd somehow adapt by learning to spell "LOL" with smoke signals. Two things regarding the decision to shut down the internet. First, where is the giant OFF switch located, and do Mark Zuckerburg and Al Gore have turn a key simultaneously? Second, I think shutting it down would have the same effect that Mr. Burns taking away beer and TV had in that parody of The Shining on The Simpsons. No porn and no email make Egypt something something. Apparently, this uprising was organized through Facebook. I'd like to see that event invitation. I can't get five people to show up to a free comedy show. Now that I'm taking a closer look at the map, you'd think the people in Karnak would've seen this coming (anyone?). And they should've thought something was fishy in Tuna El Gabai (c'mon, people). There's been widespread looting and they even ransacked the tomb of King Tut. Steve Martin will be releasing a statement shortly. If there's one thing that will quell a revolution, I've got to believe it'll be a mummy curse. Now, the big concern is whether this will affect our gas prices. That's what I love about this country. A nation is in complete political upheaval, and we find a way to make it all about us.

See you Wednesday...