Run tubby, run!

     Some of you may know that I never try to post any sort of actual self portrait. This is honestly as close as I get. So, someone has sort of let himself slip over the past couple of years and now he has to buckle down and endure the pain and humiliation inherent in any weight loss program. Boo.
     The whole exercise thing isn't really a problem. I'm more than happy to walk (no running. I hate running.), lift heavy objects and even, dare I say it, participate in sport-like activities. The real problem is that I have no choice but to engage in that practice celebrated by masochists the world over: dieting.
     As I'm sure most of you know, the root word of "diet" is "die." That is what I would rather do most days instead of denying myself the wondrous bounty of the metaphorical global buffet. But thanks to past transgressions, I have to either substitute pressed sawdust for the foods that make me happy or look like I frequent the regular kind of buffet. So, I suffer.

Halleluia for landlocked states.

We have come, once again to that special time of year in which we all thank whatever higher power we believe in that we were made to walk on land and not swim in the ocean. That's right, it's Discovery Channel's Shark Week.
Sharks are one of the most important reasons that I do not live anywhere near the ocean. Other perfectly logical reasons not to live by the seashore include tsunamis, hurricanes, angry Atlanteans, Godzilla, and this thing:

Also, This:

I won't be getting into any body of water bigger than a bathtub for weeks. And if you watched any of the same sharky fun I did, neither will you.