Your cocktail sir,





2006-05-16 - 7:03 a.m.

This morning I started what I hope is to become a tradition of walking my dog in the morning. We didn't get very far, and not because of Bandit's tiny legs. No, he needed to smell EVERYTHING and then comment via urine on the dog blog that is the block's trees, bushes, and decorative urns.

I had no idea that my parents neighborhood had so many overweight white men joggers. Of course, I was the overweight white man walking his dog, so I fit in, a little bit. It was a far cry from my old neighborhood, where I was the white overweight jogger and the people that I met where not my own, but instead meth addicts, prostitutes, and homeless people going to ground for the day.

It was nice though, me waiting for the dog to finish up his flame war with [email protected] while the chuf chuf off nylon and labored breathing trundled past. Just a nod for greeting. I was glad that it wasn't me, though we are certainly a type, bringing to mind President Clinton during his Presidential health kick, all of us looking bad in shorts, out of breath, and dreaming of Sausage McMuffins.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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