Taking a few days off from writing is a bit like taking off a few days from running, I’ve found. I’ve also found some lint in my belly button, but that’s another story for another time. Back to the metaphor.
My body played a funny trick on me this morning and decided to wake me up at 9 am for absolutely no good reason whatsoever. I didn’t have to go to work, a wedding, a funeral, the coronation of the Princess of Bolivia, like, nothing. Coulda shoulda woulda slept in past noon, but instead, I’m up at an hour where the only things on TV are 30-minute paid advertisements for home gym equipment and “Hey Arnold!” I’m not sure which program was more disturbing. But again, I digress, cuz I’m smooth like that.
So I’m up, against my will, groggy as heck, doing the whole manly “idly scratch every inch of your body without knowing it” thing, and lo, I came to my newly distended belly, thanks to Mom’s holiday cooking. Oh, and maybe the fact that I ate all of it helped too, since the very act of cooking itself did not lend to this less-that-svelte junk in the front. (I’ve never used the word “svelte” before. Another word, off the list. Next up? “Lugubrious”.) So I figure, OK, I’m up, I might as well maximize my miserable nature and try to run off some of this newly acquired poundage.
I could of course hop the T, head into downtown, and go to my gym, with its oh-so-cool treadmills that feature private TVs, jets of air blasting from the control panel, beverage service, books-on-tape, dancing monkeys, and your very own folk singer, but that would be quite the hike. So I could run outside. It’s cold, but by the time I finish running, I would just be getting to my gym. But I’m sick, so maybe I shouldn’t run at all. But I’m fat, so I need to run. Plus, I’ve heard bronchitis does wonders for the waistline.
So I do a decently long run, nothing epic, and not as long as I’ve done recently. Then again, in the immediate version of “recently” I’ve done hardly anything since Monday, unless lifting your wrist to your mouth to insert delicious foods counts as aerobic exercise. Now you might say, “But Ryan, why not just go to the gym, and be in climate-controlled goodness, far away from the harsh elements, and are you EVER gonna pay back that $20 you owe me, you cheap f#ck?” And I would answer, “Yea, verily, it’s not as if I have a lot going on today in terms of plans, due to this illness. But there’s one thing I haven’t told you yet. Something big. Something epic. We’re talking ‘Agent Cody Banks 2’ big here.”
And you, being the supplicant waif thou art, would say, “And what would that be, O Munificent One?”
And me, being the egotistical maniac that I am, would retort, “The fact that my brother got me a Playstation 2 for Christmas. Boo ya!” And then I’d bust out my signature dance move, which is a cross between the Macarena, the Worm, and “person on fire”.
So I’m just basically warning you all up front---if productivity on the site goes down, you know who to blame. Casey McGee. He lives in Allston, MA. Looks like me, only not ugly and bald. Shouldn’t be that hard to find. Look in a bar.
As if my life didn’t have enough distractions, I now own this incredibly sweet piece of toy. I mean, for the last 3 hours or so I’ve been saying, “Just one more game, then I’ll blog.” But then I unlocked a new trick in “SSX Tricky” and that lost me 30 minutes. And then I was all set to come in here and write, and lo, I hit my first finishing move in “WWE Smackdown: Here Comes the Pain”, and that set me back at least another 30 minutes.
The debate is over, by the way, in case you missed it. For all of you who have been struggling with the age-old question. Those who have spent endless nights, tossing and turning. Those who sought inner enlightment to achieve the Oneness of the Universe. All for nought. For I have the answer.
The answer is this: it’s MY brother who’s the coolest sibling ever. So there. Thanks for coming. Pack yer bags, don’t let he door hit your booty on the way home, etc.
I won’t drool too much over this game system here, since I know most of you are just here for the kiddie porn, but seriously…can I get an “AMEN” for this system? I didn’t even ask for it, but how could I have ever lived without it? It’s like that day when I first discovered Rice Pilaf, or “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, or Guam. I mean, honestly, certain things come into your life and suddenly all that came before seems a dark, cold, murky wasteland frought with uncertainty, terror, and less than 64-bit processing speed. Not good times. Atari times.
Some say progress is a bad thing. That it’s all coming too fast, too soon. That we’re not ready for it. That we should slow down. Have these people SEEN the women in “SSX Tricky”? I mean, come on! If they look this hot in parkas, imagine how hot they must look in…oh. I’m using my out-loud typing voice again, aren’t I? Moving on.
These were not the only items to arrive via Amazon. I got “Y Tu Mama Tambien” from a long-time reader I’ve never even met, which has to be one of the nicest surprises of the holiday season. And the Commander got me “The Lion King”, in addition to a Trogdor T-shirt, which means much burnination will be occurring in the Northeastern during this wintry times. My mom was nice enough to buy the inflatable love doll off my Amazon list too, which was so sweet of her. “I bought a little friend for you,” she said as I unwrapped “Helga Helium”. ‘Tis the season, indeed.
Speaking of burnination, Momma McGee hooked up me up with some serious candle action. After about the fifth opened gift that had candles in it, my brother leans over and says, “You still like chicks, right?” I'm man enough to admit I like jasmine-scented candles. If you can't accept me for who I am, Casey, that's too bad. Unless you plan on taking back the Playstation. If so, I'll grope the nearest female to keep it. Playstation 2: Aiding My Escape From Morality.
I lit them all last night, and my apartment resembled nothing so much as the lit beacon of Gondor, asking Rohan for aid against Mordor and the “Really Cool Flaming Boar’s Head Battering Ram That Can’t Possibly Be in the Book But Should Have Been”. Damnit, stupid out loud typing voice again. I think I’ll have to learn some code, and put up a poll so you can vote on the issues that you’d most like me to never mention again on the site. Some possible options:
- The Lord of the Rings
- Playstation 2
- WWE
- The whole weird thing with the blowup doll
Feel free to suggest more. I aim to be nothing if not crowd-pleasing. Although I do most of my pleasing on a one-to-one basis….heh. Get it? KnowwhatImean? Nudge nudge, wink wink. Man, I’m smooth. Like, seven inches from the midday sun smooth. Whew. Somebody stop me. (Please, my fingers won’t stop typing this stuff. My computer’s turning into HAL from “2001: A Space Oddity”. “What are you typing, Ryan?” it just intoned. Help.)
Part of me wishes I could regale you with tales of how dysfunctional my family was over the holidays, and the hurled hams, the wreath rings of death, and the poisoned eggnog, but really, that’s a decently sick wish. Everything went, so near as I could tell, as smoothly as it has in years. And did I mention I got a Playstation 2? And that my first victory was John Cena over Chavo Guerrero? Oh, sorry.
So the holidays have come and gone, and yea, verily, I look back and see that it was good. Presents were given and received. Baked goods were cooked and eaten. Alcohol was consumed, and, in the case of a certain someone, given back the following morning. Merry Christmas, indeed.
I hope your holidays have been merry as well. Not Merry, you know, the Hobbit who attacks the Witch King of Angmar on Pelennor Fields and…
*mugs self*
Posted by Ryan McGee at December 27, 2003 02:15 PM