According to Men’s Fitness Magazine, Houston is the most overweight city in the United States and Seattle is the healthiest. Colorado has two cities listed in the top five for the most fit: Colorado Springs (3) and Denver (5). We represent from a mile-high, America. On the other end of the spectrum is Texas, which has three cities ranking in the top ten for the most fat: Houston (1), Dallas (6) and San Antonio (10). It is called proper diet and exercise, you fucking whales. Stop eating so much Carl’s Jr., get off your cousins and take a run around the neighborhood or something.
My Thanksgiving holiday was pleasant, fattening and free of stabbings. My lady and I ran the Turkey Trot in the morning and then spent the rest of the day being gluttonous hogs. Big comedy was delivered via the grandmothers as we kept vigil over the basted fowl:
Grandma #1: (describing her recent cataract surgery) It was like a psychedelic nightmare.
Grandma #2: I do not like anybody who takes drugs when they do not need them.
I am tired as hell. My sort of lady woke me at five o’clock this morning to go running. My sort of lady is a morning person. I am not. We ran around the lake. It was dark and the stars were still out. It was cold. The only other person on the path was an old Asian woman wearing a Muumuu and walking her cat. My sort of lady talked through the entire run and in a sleepy haze I only comprehended half of the words that came out of her mouth. After the run I felt great, ate a bowl of oatmeal and watched the end of Mobsters on the digital cable before I showered and got ready for work. The point of this rant: exercise is good for you.
I just returned home from a visually exquisite, physically exhausting backpacking trip in the Sangre De Cristo Wilderness. I tagged along with Nels, his wife and their two dogs. I have pictures but I am too wiped out to retrieve my digital camera from the bag and plug it into the computer to share them with you. You will see me, with my mountain man beard and all my backpacking glory later this week. Many humorous anecdotes and witticisms were exchanged as we toiled along remote mountain trails, but in my opinion, the best came from me (of course) when discussing anal sex: “It is a game of inches.”
An interesting footnote: On the way home we took a minor detour to see Bishop Castle. In case you are unfamiliar with Colorado lore, for the past 30 years eccentric Jim Bishop has been building a castle, all by himself. We had to see it to believe it. As I bore witness to over 30 years of one man’s work (and enjoying the anti-government mantras written on sandwich-board signs dotting the castle landscape) I could say only one thing: “Interesting. Hey, are you guys ready to go?”
I have a deep hatred for PETA. It is shit like this that fuels the fire. Lettuce Ladies. Are you kidding me? Even more ridiculous is the list of the famous Lettuce Ladies. When I think about a spokes model, I think about a strong, intelligent woman with opinions I value. I remember how smart Elizabeth Berkley looked in a thong sliding down a greased pole in Showgirls. Or how Traci Bingham’s social conscience has dazzled me ever since her work on Baywatch. I have always treasured health tips from Pam Anderson, especially those on how to avoid contracting Hepatitis from a rock drummer.