Hitchhiking was slow to catch on in South Korea, but local innovators eventually realized the correct translation for “thumb”.
Stop Looking At Me, Swan.
I can see the pond in the public gardens and the swan boats seem to be taunting me today. They’re having a cool dip, with exotic women from countries all over the world sitting in their laps, and I’m stapled to a desk writing emails about search engine optimization. Here comes another. See how he grins in my direction, rubbing in the fact that I have to remain indoors for another 3 hours, while he bobs around in duck doody and medical waste.
Here comes another one. Happy bird, I envy you. Even with a dirty bandaid stuck to your rudder, you’re still floating free while I read emails like a veal. Come to me soon, July 4th weekend, so I can escape to the great Northern woods, if only for a moment.
I’m Not Your Donner.
The only thing that’s worse than oppressive heat is oppressive heat in the middle of a rainstorm. And the only thing worse than that is having nothing better to talk about than the frigging weather. At least in this scenario no one can accuse me of having a degenerative sweat duct disorder. I have to traverse the city twice tonight for meetings and will undoubtedly stumble through my apartment door around 9pm like one of the Donner Party.
The Oilers lost last night, and although I was bummed it was one of the greatest and most exciting series of hockey, or any other sport, that I’ve ever watched. Now what am I supposed to do? Glad you asked. Luckily Big Brother (the UK version – I’m not that sad) is in full swing, and my router at home is smoking from all the downloading. Year after year I am absolutely transfixed by this show, and I’m not proud of it. Good watchin’.
I have to wrap it up and start the evening’s journey. I’ll leave you all with this insane Lego site, where someone with even more spare time than me has made “dream playsets” of all his favorite pop-culture icons – including Trailer Park Boys. And yes, Julian has a little lego Bacardi and Coke.
Blood, Sweat and Sweat.
My AC unit is a doozy. I would turn my kitchen floor into a rink right now if I mopped it. Good thing that only ever happens after a fork stabbing. Couple the temperature with the historic game 7 of the Stanley Cup that’s in full swing right now, and I’m a happy little penguin.
It’s been hot the last few days in Boston. the new phrase I keep hearing is “Africa” hot. But I think it’s more akin to “trip drunkenly over a trailer hitch into a campfire” hot. Exceedingly warm weather is not my favorite, and I’m going to be putting the dry cleaner’s kids through prep school if this continues.
I walk to work every day as I’ve discussed, and it works out to about 22 miles a week. Lately I’ve been getting to work after these 2 mile jaunts looking like Andy escaping from Shawshank. My favorite joke from last night’s Entourage comes to mind: “I haven’t seen anyone sweat like that since Patrick Ewing retired”. Frig – Carolina just scored. I have to pay attention to the game now and rub my rabbit’s foot. Only I don’t have one, so I’m bound to make the cat really uncomfortable.
Monday’s Quotelet: Meet The Soccers.
Switzerland’s shocking 2-0 upset against Togo was disputed when a crate of methamphetamine-laced Toblerone was discovered in their locker room.