I realize that I can be a bit of a stubborn ass. No debate from yours truly on that point but this little event is not due to a normal obstinate over-correction. We (I use the term we as if anyone else in my house gave a crap about the television service) have officially become cord cutters. There were a butt-ton of reasons that all boiled down to us paying for something we barely used and were not happy with. So I was all prepared to purchase and install an over the air antenna (known in the community as OTA) when I stumbled across a deal that got one tuned and installed for just a little more money. (This would probably be frowned upon by my fellow frugal cable cutters but tough shit, it’s my cash) This nice gentleman is mid assembly.


Something that undoubtedly would have cause me angst he finished in record time.


The wife is going to have to get used to the aerial on the roof but the ugly dish will go away tomorrow so its more of a substitution when you think about iit. Plus, as you can see by my expert photography, it lines up perfectly with my neighbors lightning catchers making us a cohesive unit at least by outward appearance. I’ll write more on this later but its football season and I need to make sure the deck is completely clear before heading to the game.


I thought I had more

First up I had a disturbing conversation at dinner this evening about a subject never before discussed by yours truly. I was eating alone at the bar and there were a couple other business types doing the same. I got pretty locked in to reading on my phone so I wasn’t paying full attention to my surroundings but somehow I got the feeling that I had been asked a question. Thinking it was the bartender checking in I looked up and the dude to my right asked what I thought. About what? I asked and his answer err question threw me for a loop. So confused was I that I didn’t really comprehend. He said something about grooming and male plastic surgery.

Since this was no one I knew I tried to punch out of the conversation gracefully by offering no opinion. He pressed and it turned out that the dude to his right was the other participant. I said I really had no opinion on male grooming much like the wild grizzly bear I don’t spend much time contemplating my exterior but if I did I would probably punch myself in the face. And as for dude cosmetic surgery I think it should be reserved for birth defects, car accidents, and gender do-overs. Most fellas that go under he knife develop a bit of a Lady Face from my experience.

He countered by asking about my beard and pointing out that I groomed my face. Good point, I grow this thing to avoid the twin blue shadows on either side of my mouth by early afternoon. He was right, I’ve had facial hair since college because I’m not a huge fan of shaving so a touchup in the afternoon is out of the question. It’s worse now because I read that the hipster beard is going away only to be replaced by short cropped styles like the one I usually wear. This annoyed me as I am on the cutting edge of little if I can help it so I’m growing mine out. It is currently in a stage I like to call early homeless. I’ll post a picture once it gets good and funny looking.

I had to punch out of the conversation by saying the ever polite “I’m through talking to you now.”

I am a tired individual. These week long trainings kick the life out of me and I will be happy to head home tomorrow night. I’m a little over an hour from the lake house and have to drive right past on my way home. I wonder how creeped out the renter’s would be if I stopped by and swam for a little bit before driving the rest of the way home. Something to consider.



I had what some would describe as “one of those days.” Nothing specific or severe just some hours of existence to be endured. When I got back to this half polished turd of a hotel I decided to head on down to the fitness center. The single treadmill with a TV on top was indeed in the dead nuts center of the mirrored room so false advertising it was not. I walked at a brisk pace for a while to clear my head if clearing you head means unleashing a stampede in your skull.

I entered the elevator with a gentleman who seemed to have ants in his pants if I might quote something often said about me in my youth. Once the painfully slow door closed on us I discovered that my diagnosis was incorrect. This man was in fact attempting to hold back the birth of hot trouble. I must have missed the audible warning due to the hooves in my head and my more rapid and deeper than normal breathing. Due to the afore mentioned air intake I had a lung full of the weaponized oxygen before I smelled or more accurately tasted it.

A choking spasm was cut short as I fought my natural urge to strike this obvious Nazi as hard as I could. When he tried a smirk of contrition I warned him that by the rules of the Geneva Convention I could technically punch him in the head or gut. his choice. I went on to say I would settle for a single shoulder shot where I would attempt to permanently disable his arm. He scurried off of the elechamber with hid ass clenched tight in a decent penguin impersonation.

I am typing to you now fresh from a required shower where I waterboarded myself to get enough cleansing h2o into my sinus cavity. I will need to leave a note for the maid tomorrow attempting to explain the broken ironing board in the tub but extreme measures were called for and I answered. I might be asleep by seven.