So hungry. When I got home from work on Monday I decided to go for a run in the 90-degree heat (37 percent humidity; 60-degree dew point) and just about managed to kill myself in the process. I felt drunk and stupid (more drunk and stupid than usual, I mean) and couldn't cool off. As a side effect, I couldn't eat dinner. Water and Gatorade were all I could stomach.
"You're going to be really hungry," my wife said to me, encouraging me to try to eat.
"Nah. I'll be fine," I said.
Beth's granddad is hilarious. There is no way in hell that I would be able to get either of my grandfathers to wear a hat backward. One of them accused me of looking like a member of al-Qaida when I used to wear a goatee.
Have you ever read Alton Brown's Rants & Raves page? It's half-amusing if you are an Alton Brown fan (which you might be if, like me, you are married to a dietitian -- we watch a lot of Food Network).
Greg drew attention to lists of the 100 Greatest and Worst Britons in my comments today. I think I remember when that list first came out and I remember mentally discrediting it because David Lloyd George ranked so low.
Uhm, yes. We are pansies. Why do you ask?