Pissiness and the Long-Distance Runner

Two of my ideas for my blog entry occurred to me during my 7-mile training run this afternoon. First, as I ran by a quaint eatery, I noticed a sandwich board by the sidewalk advertising their "Chicken Leg's Dinner." I spent the next several minutes wondering what a chicken leg would have for dinner, if indeed it were possible for a chicken leg to eat. I am no expert in chicken anatomy, but I don't think chicken legs have mouths or digestive systems. Seriously, folks, you don't need an apostrophe when you make something plural.

Next, I was passing by a bar within a few blocks of Wrigley Field in the midst of the Cubs' game against the Twins today, and two guys were standing outside the bar smoking. One of them comments (I'm not sure if this was actually meant for me to hear or if he was trying to joke to his friend): "You're not really running with Gatorade, are you?" I had already passed him when he managed to slur this gem out, so I turned my head to yell that I was running 7 miles, so yes, I was running with Gatorade. Stupid drunk asshole. I may not look like I run really far (I am not perfectly stick thin), but even though I am pretty slow I get the miles in. At least I am trying to take care of myself, not smoking and getting drunk at 1PM on a Saturday. So shut up. Ugh.

So there's my rant for the day.

Haiku News

Six Flags is bankrupt,

but claims guests won't notice it.

Let's hope they are right.

Ahmadinejad

claims to have won in Iran.

Opponents: he's wrong.

Bye-bye analog:

Somehow 300k called

because unprepared?!