Entry #804

I went running through my usual route of downtown and back. Nothing really eventful on that note.

Entry #803

George called me up to go hiking. Now, last year at this time we went up to Castle Rock and to our complete surprise it was snowing there, which made for an awesome trek - one of the best I've been on. We stayed overtime and got issued a ticket by the ranger for staying past dark, which is the mark of real men since we could have died according to the officer.

None of that this Christmas. It was as sunny as a Pixar movie and the place was CROWDED. What the hell. Where did all these godless heathens who don't celebrate Christmas come from? George and I even ran into a girl we knew from high school among the horde. When asked about what I'm doing these days I told her I'm a mercenary for hire. She just stared at me. After that George told me, "Uh, next time we talk to a girl you probably shouldn't tell her you're a mercenary, or you'll weird her out." Fine by me. But we ended up leaving early because all the people were ruining the hike. Instead we hung out at my place and played Einhander on Playstation, which kicked ass. I count that as mental training.

Did I mention I hate Christmas?

Entry #802

I hate Christmas.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YLSFeygx3A

Went out to the track at night and did TFS instead.

Entry 801

I ordered a foam roller off Amazon for $20.

20. Fucking. Dollars. For a piece of FOAM. Apparently, though, it's specially molded with ExervoTM Nimbus Foam polyurethane microbeads compressed under heavy pressure and expertly crafted with a hot wire cutter. If all of this extra bullshit translates into anything less than being able to use it as a rocket launcher then I'm already disappointed. Seriously, though, those things do work for those of us not inclined to get sports massages and need something similar for home use (so are rocket launchers).

To sum things up, yesterday I floor pressed 315x3 and 325x2 (after a work-up). Pathetic. And tonight, I went for a run.

Entry 800

Went drinking tonight. I didn't get drunk; drinking gets me'd. George and I were simply out about town and he insisted on buying me a beer after I wasted my money on the Playstation Network download-renting a shitty, shitty movie (Big Man Japan). I said why not, so we walked over to Boulevard Tavern, some biker place. It sucked, hard. Beer is vile, vile shit. I didn't make a scene about it or anything - really, it didn't taste any different from what I expected it to. It was just A. distasteful, and B. fucking boring. Seriously, I thought bikers were supposed to be badass, not fat old men trying desperately to hit on the bartender. Anyways, last time I ever do that, that's for sure. I felt no change coming out of the bar than I did going in, by the way, but I didn't drink a great deal.

I was a bit stunned that George even asked me to begin with. Actually, there are a lot of changes about him that surprise the hell out of me, but I don't feel right talking about them behind his back here.