Brother, Can You Spare an Hour?
If a person who lived near the beach was granted a few spare hours on a beautiful day like yesterday, you would think that he might spend the time laying on sand reading a book with the sun shining down on his head.  I thought about that too, but instead, opted to spend that time learning to use my new PS2 driving wheel with Gran Turismo A-Spec in air conditioned comfort.
After four hours of playing, I got a glimpse of my reflection on the TV and all I could think of was, What a nerd.  But that wheel is so damned fun, I don’t care.  It’s better to feel good than to look good.  I regret nothing.

Calling all Scientists
Ok.  I dreamt like a madman last night, and woke up to find out that my GF had done the same.  Now, if our brains supposedly broadcast signals at 8 Hz, could one unconscious, storming brain in close proximity to another unconscious brain affect that brain?  Can we make each other dream?  Please send me the answer to this question, as I am much too lazy to either look it up on the internet or initiate a double blind sleep study.  I will buy into your story and spread your lies to the world as long as you refrain from using the words: God, Global consciousness, or mother-ship in your explanation.

Note
Due to all the running over the last 2 weeks, I have unwittingly lost 5 pounds.  At 205, I feel like I’m thinner and lighter (almost like 175), but I have grown accustomed to the heavy feeling of 210.  I really don’t think that 225 is in the cards without eating a lot of ice cream.

Another word for Pirate Treasure
Hi, my name is Jon and I’m a girl watcher.  (Hi, Jon.)  I haven’t bit my hand like Squiggy in 442 days.   I really, really try to be cool about sneaking a glance here and there, but given that most women actually spend a portion of time during the day preparing themselves for people to look at them (mostly for their harshest critics: other women), I believe the odds are stacked against me.  I try not to stare, nor comment, nor turn into a wolf in a zuit suit with steam coming out of his ears.  I do.  And if I’m in the presence of my sexy American girlfriend, this goes double.

I earnestly try to resist even the quickest glance, but women are just so damned bumpy these days, and my moronic male brain constantly sends messages like “Arr maytee, spy ye to 23 degrees north.  Thar be the booty.” even when other parts of the brain are in mid-sentence.   So the overriding pirate in the male brain makes us all think that in the middle of a face to face conversation, our beloved girlfriends will never notice if we just sneak a quick peek. 

Stupid pirate.

Given that I have never been known for my stealth or social grace, my peeks are probably caught more often than I know.  Actually, I know that they are, as the pirate is a big fat liar in search of nothing but the next booty.  He doesn’t care if I get in trouble, nooooo.  He just cares about pirate treasure.

Stupid, stupid pirate.

Anyway, the other day, while walking along the beach, a girl in a bikini laying face down on a towel arched up and flipped her hair.  The pirate caught it as if it were in slow motion, and yelled, “FIRE!  Look to the port side NOW!” nearly spinning my head sideways a full 90 degrees.  I honestly don’t know if the woman was much to look at, as I was busy trying not to notice her at all.  But all women have all kinds of tricks for men.  One of the most simple and effective, is the hair flip.  I was screwed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid pirate.

Right then, my girlfriend stopped me and said, “You know you can look at whatever you want, right?  You don’t have to try to be sneaky about it.”  As I stood there saying things like, “Me?  Wha? I..no.  Babbadahamadan shhh.  No.  pffft. Nah, come on.  Me?”,  she just stood there looking at me like she had her very own personal moron. 

Which she does.

Note: I was informed after this post was written that it was Lenny, not Squiggy, that bit his hand.  Squiggy made a kissy face and grabby hands.  But, isn’t the joke more effective using Squiggy than Lenny?

Posted in Misc.