garbanzo a gogo

^^^^^^^ I believe that is a dare. Or a challenge.

I think I read this somewhere once: "Don't think about that anymore now. Think about something nicer. Think about cookies."

and ok, mostly i stopped by because i wanted to smack some light bulbs before the season is over ...

{this reply has been removed by Loop moderators due to its extreme mushiness, per rule 23.7 "no extreme mushiness allowed.}

jeez louise. I recommend fast-forwarding to the part where you're healthy and kicking butt again. I have been assigned a DO (doctor of osteopathic medicine) as my primary physician because my last doctor quit (I was not explicitly named as the reason, but it was clearly implicated.) My sham medical system doesn't allow one to choose one's doctor. Just one less thing to worry about, Forrest said. I hope you get an answer. And that all the other stuff settles down. I prefer "went for blazing long run and then caulked the entire house for no particular reason" dave. I hope he comes back soon.

you say this like you expect me to 'fess up about the rear-view mirror I may or may not have accidentally bumped into. Mostly I'm baffled by the Nemo theme. Although you kids clean up real nice, as the old people say. And over the weekend I discovered Badly Drawn LInes, the greatest comic strip ever drawn except for Calvin and maybe Pearls, although I'm negating that one because of the pending Pastis lawsuit.

and some are even nicer in real life.

in the “some people are nicer on the loop than in real life” department, i got a text from gumbo today and she was flipping me off.

bob is in oregon. wrote me when i was there last month in an effort to meet up, apparently still under the illusion i’m an actual person. gonzo recently reacted to a photo of me with a questionable beard when i was younger in which i wondered if it made me look psychotic. he posted photo of himself in similar psychotic beard, which only seemed to reinforce my point. so at least those two are still ok. worst part about facebook was discovering that some of the people here were actual humans and not just more aliases i hade made up in late-night drunken stupors.

i would say something snarky here, but I'm still on probation.

A few incarnations ago, I lived in a little town in the hill country of Tejas. I would meet up every weekend in San Gabriel Park with a couple of other guys to go for the weekly long run. We called ourselves the San Gabriel River Runners, a club that ebbed and flowed, but was basically the three of us. I was an environmentalist left wing zealot journalist save the world vegetarian ultraliberal. One of my companions was an average older working guy. The other owned a rock quarry next to the highway, constantly digging an ever-growing gash in the beautiful countryside. He flew his own plane, drove a Mercedes, was crazy rich. Pretty much everything I hated. But here's the weird thing. On Sunday mornings, he was just another runner. Old shoes, goofy shorts and shirts, enthusiasm for suffering. We would run in the heat and snow and rain, and then go to the little town's only McDonald's for pancakes. He was a genuinely nice guy. We disagreed on some things, but we had that common ground -- the love of running. I never saw him outside of those Sunday morning outings, so to me he was always just a runner. I think that's why runners make the best friends. You start out with something you both believe in and passionately love. It's the perfect common ground to build a relationship on, to find out people can have different beliefs than you without hating them. In a world that has become so divisive and full of hate, running allows a sense of community and love to sneak in through the road less traveled. I think the world would be a better place if we looked a little harder to see what we have in common, and less to see what drives us apart. But then wine seems like a good option also ...

i am thankful there is a kettlebell to the side of the trail on the papago loop that is far enough away from the trail that i don't trip over it while avoiding it.

basics is never a bad place to be. Unless you walk into a gym with a duck on your head.

it's just up the street from me. I can pick it up for you this afternoon. I owe you for breaking me out of jail.

and those would be gone before you hit the missississippppi river. you need a car with a nook.

23 year later, Mo still grabs puts a death grip on the handle on the passenger door whenever I drive in a questionable manner, which is most of the time given that I'm left-handed. So good luck. I wonder how many bagels would fit in a minnie cooper, and if they would get lost in transit due to a questionable trunk.

i LOVE that color!!!!! low key, allowing you to commit driving offenses without memorable identification for witnesses. Assuming everyone in NYC has fuzzy dice, and I assume they do. Puzzled by the white stuff on car though ...

masks are for suckers. Safety cones are mandatory. .

we should just hang out in this post. Need photo of Minnie Cooper.

Muskrat Marathons is only a 2,438 mile road trip away!!! Enter soon for reduced rate.

hmmm. still seems to be taken.

i, of course, was hello kitty's magical motor oil, one in a series of hello kitty names when The Evil Remy was hellbent on banning me from the loop forever. sadly, spanky pancakes is already taken on instagram. " ... hurtling past each other, traveling back and forth in time, ricocheting off one another like pinballs, sending sparks flying; creating new tangents and fragments; sending reason running for cover." -- fun times, those days. although the protagonist in the book is now insane and undergoing shock therapy. always somethin ...

. weird. my dress shoes fit exactly the same. maybe the problem is with your dresses.

You embrace the treadmill while shunning the trail race. harumph.