Thursday, January 04, 2007

Beware the Perspiration Nazis-1

This morning, I nearly found myself on a trip to Knuckle Junction with that most annoying of gym rats, the Perspiration Nazi.

If any of my SAGE fellows were ever to set foot in a weight room, they would know of whom I speak. I speak of the self righteous, self appointed bacteria hound, who patrols the room in search of somebody who actually might be sweating. He watches, and he stalks, ready to pounce on somebody who might actually be more focused on his deltoids than giving a dumbell some sort of quickie handjob with a rag and disinfectent.

Just this morning, I was focusing my formidable concentration on a form of deltoid curl, using 70 pound dumbells. I couldn't help but notice that somebody seemed to be staring at me from across the gym--not an uncommon occurrence, I might add. I had assumed that this person was yet another admirer of my reknowned fitness work ethic. Unfortunately, I was mistaken.

No, I am afraid my "admirer" was merely a member of that (now) all too familiar sweat police, that low form of persnickety poseur, that paranoid personality unwilling to get in the trenches and work on his body, content instead with a lot in life that exists to prohibit perspiration in the weight rooms throughout this land.

Well, today, he toyed with the wrong body builder. The Perspiration Nazi tangled with a man nearly 5'6" tall, 185 pounds, with no more than 4% body fat. He tried to make a run up the mountain named P.D. "Bo" Steed, and he was sent hurtling to the shards of rock below. Thank goodness Mr. Bo Jangles wasn't there to witness the events unfold, as I am currently far too busy to transport my longtime companion to his Los Angeles veterinarian once again.

More on this tale in the days to come.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Sniff.....Sniff...Oh The Horrible Pain!

Bo,

We do live in challenged times, but I say we must adapt!

Personally I, like so many of our fellow countrymen (women?), would have much preferred if the poor, doomed ex-cleanser had been given the privilege of some serious couch time with Doctor Phil. Imagine the emotion! The feelings! Oh yes, I am almost gleeful just thinking of the possibilities!

Then, when it all becomes nearly too much we will have the privilege....yes Bo, the privilege of witnessing the great retribution from the Doc. Philtribution I call it! Boo Yah! In that outraged Texas drawl that only the good Doctor can summon for times like this he could berate the Mass Murderer - not just for his crimes - but more importantly for his POORLY LIVED LIFE. The man CHEATED ON HIS WIFE for God's sake! He didn't HUG HIS BOYS! These are his real crimes and the man is A MONSTER I TELL YOU!

Only then could the Mad Gasser really feel remorse. He'd cry, we'd cry and all of us would see that it was his fate. He didn't want to feed his subjects to the lions, he had to do it because (alas) Daddy didn't tuck him in at night. (Sniff, sniff)

Oh, Bo I weep with remorse! What have we done?! We've BECOME THE MONSTER! I can't go on with this horrible knowledge....for me life will now have no joy. Saddam, Saddam the ex-wind of Arab Greatness (as long as you didn't piss him off) didn't get the privileges typically reserved the giants of our world who go astray. Mel did, and he hates Jews too! Is poor Saddam so different? Just think, had he been born with access to better theater, he might have turned out so differently. "Die Kurd" would have just been another buddy movie. But he wasn't so lucky was he Bo?

So now what am I to do? Perhaps...just perhaps....Oprah will comfort me? I know she is busy with the orphanage and all, but I hurt and am in pain. Poor Saddam! Poor Me! We're one and the same; vile human rabble in need of serious TV couch time and scorn from well dressed and slightly bored housewives.

CAN'T YOU SEE THIS IS A CRY FOR HELP?!

X

P.S.

Gotta run! Rachel is making Gnochi with K-Fed. Scrumptious!

Outrage of the Week-2

Imagine the horror: some gallows humor broke out in Baghdad last week, and it would appear that the late Mr. Hussein was made fun of before his (not so) Long Slow Goodbye. "In an unofficial cellphone video recording that was broadcast around the world and posted on countless Web sites, Mr. Hussein is shown standing on the gallows platform with the noose around his neck at dawn on Saturday, facing a barrage of mockery and derision from unseen tormentors below the gallows."

Mockery and Derision. At a hanging, no less. I am willing to bet these same rubes would have snickered while Hitler's corpse burned, or while Goering puked up his last bit of bile. In the Era of Feelings, we presumably are supposed to actually give a crap that Mr. Hussein's feelings may have been hurt.

Moments before he was killed.

I have taken note before that we indeed live in seriously addled times, and the dearth of irony in the above quote--embedded on the front page of our nation's Paper of Record--establishes this point once again.