Being A Racist

I love to run.  I am not very good at it, but I enjoy it so fuck it. I have participated in over 20 races in the last 2 years.  Any race that occurs in the southeast area I typically will run.  I stick with the 5K because let’s face it, I like to eat ice cream and it shows.

Below, I have outlined several types of runners that you will see at any given race.  Since I have not (and will not) participate in a marathon or half-marathon, these profiles do not apply to those psychos.

The Elitist: These are the biggest assholes at the race.  They are in it to win it, even if there is no cash involved, they want to prove to everyone that they are better than you. Normally, since I am slow as shit, they pass me while I am at the turn typically finishing the race in under 18 minutes.  They wear hyper-wicking shirts in bright colors with reflective strips, racing shoes and short, tight shorts because running is apparently similar to competitive swimming, which they probably do too furthering their asshole status. Every elite running that passes me makes me want to stick my finger down my throat to toss up every piece of cheese I have ever eaten. They normally hold power-positions in work and drive sports cars.

The Daily Runner: Behind The Elitist, there is the larger group of Daily Runners.  These are guys who are in loose shorts and t-shirts, the women are normally in Nike gear that isnt skin-tight but has wicking capabilities.  They wear high-end running shoes and can finish the race in under 24 minutes.  This class of runner usually finishes the race and comes back to “cheer on” the slower runners.  This normally makes me want to cry because I am finishing the race and I don’t need a fucking cheerleader.  Go eat a banana.

The Weekend Warrior: This is the largest class of runners at most races.  They normally wear shirts from past races and regular shorts.  They can finish the race in right around 30 minutes.  They normally are so exhausted they hit the provision tent and nom on the free pizza and beer.

The Once Per Year Crowd: These are the people that if you get stuck behind them you should just hang up your running shoes and walk off the course. They wear the shirt for that days race, they ate pasta the night before for dinner and they have gimmick shoes like the shoes with the zig-zags on the bottom to promote whatever they say that is so far fetched its funny.  This crowd usually travels in packs of family members so look out for grandma and her oxygen tank bringing up the rear.

The Conversationalist: These are typically women who sign up in pairs who are just in it to say they did it.  If there are more than one they walk side-by-side making it impossible to get past them. Sometimes they run, normally they start out jogging but about a mile into it they resign to power walking and then slow to a normal walking pace.  What’s great is they spend the entire race chatting so loudly you have to deafen yourself with your iPod to drown out Cindy chatting to Linda about what brand of floor cleaner gets dried jam out off of tile.

The Running Stroller: A lot of times strollers aren’t permitted in races because they are used as battering rams. These women are the worst. They have to start in the back but they are normally in high-tech running gear while their children are bundled up in the stroller.  They run with one arm pushing and the other swinging stopping every 30 seconds to pick up a stray goldfish that was launched from the interior of the stroller or a pacifier that is then taken away so their child wails for the remainder of the race. It’s worse if they have two children that require strollers at they are a husband and wife duo.

The Walkers: The walkers don’t bother anybody.  They normally have smaller children they they carry on their shoulders because they realize that their children are too small to run 3.1 miles without pissing off everyone in their path. Most of the time they are in jeans because they wont bring their heart rate over resting throughout the entire race.

Lets cover a little etiquette: 

  • If you’re slow, start in the back.  Know your limits, unless you love having your ankles stepped on.
  • If you are running and choose to slow to a walk, get the fuck out of the way so they people that are still running don’t trip over you
  • If you decide your children should participate in the race teach them to run in a straight line and run in a forward motion at all times.  They need to be told not to run in circles around other participants and they need to stay with their designated parent at all times before somebody like me tries out my new taxidermy skills on them.
  • If you know your nose runs, bring a tissue and put it in your pocket. A farmers blow is nothing but disgusting.
  • When you get water and you are done with it, move to the side to toss your cup because nobody behind you wants to get their crotch wet with your old water cup.
  • yay! you finished, now get out of the way so that everyone behind you can finish in a timely manner and have their time recorded.
  • We get it, you love free pizza, pick up after yourself, don’t leave napkins and plates on the tables that are out, there are garbage cans everywhere.

So, dear readers, where do you fit in? Or are you still in bed at 8:00 am on a saturday when races occur in your city?

Somebody other than Jared needs a job in this house.

The email I sent to http://www.hollywoodpaws.com/contact.htm trying to get Charlie a job.

Hi,

I googled pet agents for my dog, Charlie and you were the first result so I thought I would reach out.

My dog is awesome as I am sure you hear a lot. He has no special talents other than always having to pee and pooping on the floor after a walk. His favorite word is “missy” and his hobbies include composting, sleeping and starting conversations with strangers.

Since he has no regard for authority he would be better suited for still photography. Charlie is a 2 year old dachshund. He has a sister but she’s more “community college material”.

So that’s all I have. I have no headshots or anything of that nature because they’re dogs and I have a life but if you would like to see some shots I took with my iPhone I would be happy to send them along.

Thanks!

Sc

Good habits formed at youth make all the difference. – Aristotle

As you probably know, I hate children. They are wet, sticky little creatures that are better left unfertilized and those who make it past the “pull out method” should be left at home with a nanny until they are old enough to vote and even then, they should have a curfew.

@jaredwsmith and I spent a lovely late-morning/early-afternoon at Panera working.  We couldnt enjoy the ambience of Mark announcing every smoothie that was made on the premises over the loud speaker and the weather channel music because everybody who has ever had a child in the last 4 years in Herndon, Virginia wanted to eat at Panera today between the hours of 10:30am and 3:00pm.

After Panera, we left to go to Target to get toilet paper and paper towels. Since it is the saturday before Thanksgiving, everybody wanted to shop at Target to get things to stuff their offspring with so they can enjoy their real friends and family over the age of 22. @jaredwsmith, the kind southerner that he is, offered his cart to a woman getting a hot dog, popcorn, and a coke from the place nobody eats from in Target.  She promptly says thank you and is then swarmed by her children shrieking “mommy” and “i want to sit in the cart” because mommy always lets you sit in the cart and if you thought of something other than power rangers and gummy worms you would remember that.

Shopping at Target at any time on the weekends is better than an IUD.  You see the full spectrum of children.  You have the toddlers who are gumming the shopping cart because mom took away their crayons, you have 7 year olds laying on the floor over some legos, 12 year olds being ungrateful for the Target clothes that mom works 50 hours a week to put on their backs and 16 year olds who are shoplifting iPod accessories.

I think if I ever decide I want a younger person indebted to me I am going to adopt one of those homeless kids in Nebraska. The ones who were abandoned because of the Safe Haven law. But I would want one thats [REDACTED] and is old enough to drive.

An open letter to my neighbor from across the hall

Dear Dickwad,

I love it when you have loud, angry sex in the middle of the day.

I am truly impressed with your hat collection.

I love it when you park your range rover just on the line, it makes you look like a man who knows how to command such a vehicle.

Your West Virginia door mat reminds me of your humble beginnings.

Your cheap suit collection lets me know that you are important in your day job while your endless carosel of matching cheap women who patronize your apartment nightly tells me you know how to party like a frat boy.

But please, dear neighbor stop slamming your FUCKING DOOR.

It makes my dogs bark and it makes me hate you.

eat your vegetables, you fucking prick,

Sincerely,

Your loving neighbors from across the hall at Springwood

Playing hardball at PetSmart

For the last two years, @jaredwsmith has said no to me being a proud owner of a fish.  In the time that he has said no I could of had 3 fish.

Today he gave in. 

We went to PetSmart to get some stuff for the dogs and to get our new fish. Our initial thought was a beta fish.  We walked around and decided to get our new friend his gear before we picked him out which in hindsight that doesn’t work because what if he doesnt like it?

We approached the 16 year old girl who is manning the reptile and fish area.  Prior to her helping us i saw her dip her little hand into a container of bugs without flinching. She is the type of girl everyone in high school avoids.  She digs biology, slimy things and books about wizards. She will probably grow up, go to an expensive college, get contacts and cure things that kill goldfish but today she works at PetSmart.

We walk up to her with our hands full of all our new stuff for our fish and were debating, black or orange? black? or orange? The black ones with the big eyes weird me out but the little orange ones are too common.  She approached us.

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “Hey can I help you with anything?”

Me: “Yeah, i think we want to get a fish today”

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “sure, you can’t get a goldfish to put in that bowl.”

Me: “I have had fish since I was 4, i can roll with a goldfish, relax”

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “I am sorry, but I cannot sell you a goldfish if youre going to put it in that bowl”

me: “what?”

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “how about a beta fish?”

me: “maybe, but i really want a goldfish”

Turns out they only had the female beta fish.  Female beta fish look like they’re dead male beta fish.  they have no color and their fins are small.

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “Well, I CAN sell you one but I cannot guarantee it like I can all the other fish. Goldfish can grow to be 6 inches and if you dont have enough room for it to grow like a fucking ninja turtle the lungs will under develop and it will die”

Me: “we need to have a little husband-wife internal conversation.  We will come find you”

From here, we stood by the fish and talked for about 15 minutes weighing the options.

@jaredwsmith, who has apparently never owned a fish decided to freak out and think that this fish is going to outgrow a one gallon bowl in 3 weeks and we would have to release it into the wild because it will overpower our entire house and drink all of our wine.

We left PetSmart and came home where I promptly acted like a 4 year old.

15 minutes later we were back in the car to go get a fish.

We marched right in and Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg wasnt working so we asked her replacement, Punky Brewster, if she would be available to get us a fish. She said “certainly” then asked us what size our tank was.  I confidently told her 1 gallon.

She then proceeded to try and read me the riot act.

I calmly put my hand up and stated “we got this, just give me the fish”.

She got Sparkles out of the tank away from his brothers and sisters and into a little bag.

We then went through all the fish asiles and found the awesomist stuff that we could for a fish named Sparkles. We got hot pink rocks, a bowl that looks like a big wine glass, and an “im crabby” sign.

Sparkles is getting settled in on the bookcase we got for the bedroom that has nothing on it except a lamp we got for our wedding.

Shit @jaredwsmith says: “good thing Sparkles lives in the bedroom, now all 5 of us can sleep in the same room. every. night.”

Be Thankful

Today in the Washington DC metro area is a rainy and cold one.  Being that I am 4 years old and insist on wearing unseasonable clothing in the cold I was dreading getting gas. Typically @jaredwsmith is kind enough to get it for me but since he has been exceptionally cranky for the last 48 hours I elected not to ask.

I loaded up my 2010 red VW beetle with my mega bag and myself in running shorts, flip flops and a hoodie and off I went.  In the spirit of being a pansy I neglected to stop at the first 3 gas stations I saw.  The 4th one I saw I decided I would rather be cold for 5 minutes then cold and get yelled at when my car ran out of gas on the road and @jaredwsmith would have to come help me push.

I pulled in and saw a guy standing by a table with cans of something on it.  Since I am not an atypical “car person” (read: really girly, afraid of things with 4 wheels and barely passed the drivers exam – the written one) I thought I wouldn’t be a target.

I roll out of the car and off the heated seats into the cold, wet air.  I did my card, selected the grade and installed the pump in my car safely without being accosted.  Then he hit me:

Kid: “I know you want to check this out”

Me: “Not really”

Kid: “oh, ok”

Never one to pass up a teachable moment I decided to momentarily take this kid under my “mama salesman” wing.

Then I got back in my car after giving him a flimsy “it’s cold and im getting back in my car”.

My gas pumped successfully (YES!) and I got back out.  I saw him hustling some other guy in a Malibu and felt a tinge of nostalgia.

I started in sales (not commission based THANK GOD) at 22 and I was awful at it.  I would come home from work and cry because of one reason or another.  But my dad, a lifelong salesman, told me to “suck it up” and “get over it”.  I did and I have gotten a little tougher and a little better since.

I waited for the kid to finish up being told no and he came back, head held in shame.

Me: “Hey, lemme get one of those”

Kid: “yeah?!”

Me: “yeah, how much are they?”

Kid: “$25 for two”

Me: “WTF $25? what is it?”

Kid: “Let me show you, it basically details your car for you”

Me: “I pay Jose for that”

Kid: “Well this works better”

Me: “fine, well give me two”

Kid: “I’ll tell ya what, $20 and I will give you this restaurant.com coupon”

Me: “Great”

Kid: “Are you doing this because you feel bad for me?”

Me: “Pretty much, have a good one”

And I got back in my car.

I did feel bad for him.  It was cold and raining but he was wearing an Under Armor jacket so not that bad.

It also made me so thankful for every one of our clients. Without them I wouldnt have the opportunity to wear shorts and flip flops everyday, or even write this blog post.

November is a time to be thankful and I think that it is important to be thankful all year.  Its like people who go to church on Easter and Christmas and think their conscience is clear. Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way.

So next time you see some kid trying to sell you some car wax, buy it.  Its $20 and it will get him home to his mothers basement where he belongs until he graduates college and can write a blog about when he had to sell car wax at a gas station all day.

Xanax: an informative analysis

So I guess this is the time that I need to talk about the wedding or the honeymoon.  But I am not going to talk about any of those topics.  My topic this evening is Xanax.

If you are looking for any of these topics I have done a google search for you and have provided some interesting and light reading.  the links are below:

http://bit.ly/sCMGHn

http://bit.ly/uiMVTg

http://bit.ly/sqnaht

A brief history of Xanax: Xanax or Alprazolam if you’re cheap like me and get the generic is a small and delicious baby blue pill about the size of a pea but not round like a pea because that would be a choking hazard but it is uncoated so it can get lodged in the back of your throat causing you to projectile vomit in your mouth.  Xanax is in a class of drugs called benzodiazepine’s which is a fantastic mixture of Klonopin, ativan, and the like.  they have been rumored to be addictive which is awesome because they fucking rock. Xanax is best washed down with chilled white wine.  It pairs nicely with marijuana, red meat and rice with velveeta in it. Xanax, while often perscribed to relieve the following things that may cause excessive anxiety in ones life including but not limited to:

  • loss of your keys for any amount of time
  • dog poop on the floor
  • spilled milk when you’re really stoned
  • accidentally eating a black jelly bean
  • your dad getting mom accidentally pregnant proving that they still have sex
  • missing the last pig in the level in angry birds and having to start over
  • going to the dentist for a cleaning
Xanax affects take about 30 minutes to kick in.  In that 30 minutes you have to get all your productivity that you may of may not of had scheduled for that day because you will be watching PBS for the next two hours.
Xanax often feels like you have had 3 glasses of wine or if you’re like me and a raging alcoholic it feels like two bottles of cheap white wine.  It has often been described as feeling like a sweater on the inside.

I invite you to contact your favorite local phychatrist for a prescriton for one and then rush to your local walgreens or cvs to fill it. Often a fairly inexpensive drug which is great because most of the people on it are unemployed.

Good luck and I hope that this has been an informative post.