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Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.



Tuesday, October 23, 2007

You Know How to Tell You’ve Worked Out too Hard?

It’s when your wife calls the paramedics.

See, we recently picked up an elliptical machine on Craigslist. This was to replace the recumbent stationary bike I’d been using, which had been handed down to us by Michelle’s sister; the flywheel had cracked shortly after we got it and it was noisy as Hell to ride. Anyway, I was used to just kicking back with the latest Newsweek, jamming to my iPod Shuffle and maintaining my customary 16 or 17 mph. Michelle was starting an exercise routine, though, and hated the racket; plus, she doesn’t read while working out, opting to watch TV, which would be impossible to hear.

Anyway, I’d just finished my second session on it—a standard 25-minute “no-program” program. Right at the end, during my (very short) “cool down,” I started to feel queasy. Not light-headed, just a little nauseous. I sat down on the back of the machine and was trying to slow my breathing down. And keep from throwing up as the nausea got to a more FULL-ON state. Michelle happened to be in the same room, on the computer. She kept asking if I was okay, and I was responding. Until I apparently got up, started shaking, and collapsed.

I remember thinking, briefly, that it’d be better the lie down (on the floor) as I was sitting, trying to slow my breathing/heart rate. So when I heard her calling 911, I was, all, “WTF? I’m fine . . . just had to lie down.” Apparently, I was missing the part where I slumped over into the lamp next to our bedroom doorway and Michelle tried to catch me.

The culprit was seemingly low blood sugar, which worries me as I’d eaten breakfast. But I’d also been going at it pretty hard for those 25 minutes, so I must’ve burned up all THAT sugar and any reserves stored in my lard-body. Luckily, the “instant glucose” I was given helped me narrowly escape the dreaded IV “in the truck.”


In other news, I’ll be working out and socializing and drinking and interacting with my family/Humanity much less as I’m becoming addicted to Eve Online. Did you watch Firefly/Serenity and think, “Man, how cool would that be if I could pilot my own ship and do some smuggling and blow up some space pirates?” Well, you can. I’d been obsessively surfing the official messageboards for two weeks before finally ponying up for the trial subscription and downloading the game. I spent my first hours mostly flying around one solar system feeling lost, especially considering there are, what, THOUSANDS of other systems to be explore. The graphics are top-notch, BTW.

I won’t post my character’s name because, otherwise, someone will find and destroy my n00b ass. Seriously, don’t PWN me, PvPers. ‘Cuz I’m a total fucking carebear.

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 10/23 at 12:12 PM
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Thursday, January 18, 2007

Hollywood (9999 Turns)

I followed through with my Civ III / “American Idol” combo plan, but actually got bored playing Civ III and had to turn it off for a bit.* I stretched out on the couch to watch the rest of “AI” and nearly laughed myself off it at one point. And taking it to the next level, as usual, is Brian Byrne. He’s got “American Idol” screen-shots on Flickr**, along with his Grade-A commentary. I’m really starting to believe that reality television should be 100% focused on humiliation, and blogging should be 100% focused on making fun of celebrities and/or television shows.

On a semi-related note, I think it was Patricia’s Vox site that included the link to this, a MySpace page set up for Robin Sparkles (of the famed Canadian music video in “How I Met Your Mother").

There's more to drink (click for it) »

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 01/18 at 05:08 PM
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Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Now Not Knowing When to Quit on Multiple Fronts and Levels

Despite C-dub’s warning, I’ll probably watch “American Idol” with Michelle, looking over the top of my laptop screen periodically while playing Civ III. Like I did last night. Really, it’s embarrassing to watch the audition rounds, so I mute my game and just listen to the tone-deaf vocalists and stinging commentary while hordes of Chinese and Babylonian and Zulu and Persian and Roman forces totally beat the living Christ out of my doodz. I got into the 1400s playing Japan, rather peacefully, which it turns out is a waste. I should’ve been kicking ass from the get-go. Anyway, I got saddened and deleted the game. Actually, ALL of the games I had saved. Then I started over as the Germans. On a bigger “world.” I’m making nice with the Aztecs right now, but if they get snotty with me, I won’t hesitate to go Apocalypto on their tanned asses.

In other news, I think my newfound optimism may have resulted from not being in a band anymore. That said, I think I’m going to be joining another band soon.

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 01/17 at 05:04 PM
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There's no "I" in threesome.


I can't remember whether I've seen anything new since my birthday. Oh, right, that one.


I was hoping for a little more detail in the accounts of mauling-by-zombie. But the anecdotes were disturbing, nonetheless..


I don't have a solid grasp on which exact cheap beers I had at the ATL watering holes.