Their Poor Fathers

On Saturday night, Kristen and I went out to a lovely dinner with family friends, The Fortsons: Jack, Brenda and their daughter Monica (Shout Out!). As we were driving home, we stopped at a 7-11 for a quick get together with Kristen's BFF...48 ounces of Diet Coke. Quick because you should see her drink the thing (YouknowwhatI'msaying!!)

As we were in 7-11, we noticed a nurse in there that everyone was ogling. Not because she was an actual, I'm Choking Give Me The Heimlich Manuever Kind Of Nurse, but more the, I'm A Slutty Here Are My Boobs And My Dress Is So High You Can See My Butt Cheek And Who Is Heimlich Kind Of Nurse. This got Kristen to thinking...let's troll downtown and see what her generation is wearing. Oh, wait you mean
Slut O Ween? Done!!

We get downtown around 9:45pm, so it's prime costume time. We drive down Orange Avenue and see all sorts of costumes, guy dressed like Will Ferrell in Elf running through the streets clueless like Ferrell did, girl in a skimpy dress, guy dressed like a girl, Luigi, skimpier dress, Yoshi, Pirate, possibly a girl wearing her lingerie, a female cop that all guys would want to be pulled over for, a fat guy jumping up and down as a personal trainer, and a lot, and I mean A LOT of X-rated female nursery rhyme characters who we deemed Slutty Snow White, and Little Slut Riding Hood.

Kristen is loving the stroll. "This is great, I'm so glad we did this!!!!"

After awhile we had this exchange...

Me: "Honey, I keep seeing girls wearing really short dresses, with knee high socks. What is that?"

Kristen: "Oh, that's a Miscellaneous Slutty Costume"

It took 15 minutes to go a handful of blocks down Orange, and once we hit the end, we decided to go back and do it again. It was like we were kids riding Space Mountain for the first time, loving it, and wanting more, except this time without the puking.

Second time down there are a considerably larger portion of late teens and mid twenty somethings in their special garb. The men's consensus choice of costume...a convict. The women's consensus choice of costume...anything accentuating their breasts and butt cheeks. Not their butts, no, that's not enough. They want us to make sure we can see their underwear.

What surprised me the most was how much fun we had with this. I think this was our Halloween highlight. Not the little kids running around this Monday, but watching the young professionals of America literally hang it all out for all of us to see. You know you have shown your wife a cheap, entertaining time when you spend 45 minutes cruising through downtown, judging others and your wife says things like...

"Oh, Oh, Oh, look at that guy dressed like a girl. Guys dressed like a girl is ALWAYS priceless."

"Slow down, SLOW DOWN, I can't see behind the car next to us, Yes!! Another Slutty Pirate"

"Oh, I love it. A guy dressed like a marijuana leaf just walked past a police officer."

"ANOTHER SLUTTY BUMBLE BEE!!! This is FANTASTIC!!!"

The Future Of America. These Are The Voters For Our Next President. And we're ONLY worried about the economy?

Run Forest Run

Through the years I've had many bright ideas. Pouring ice cream into a deep fryer and believing I could get deep fried ice cream. Spraying Raid into my air conditioner vent because I couldn't figure out where else these spider ants were coming from inside my car, and thus creating Raid-O-Car where the smell is so strong, ants in various lawns are dying just whiffing the toxic smell as I drive past. And, finally FaceX which is a computer program I want to create where a phone can take a picture of anything in the world, and information will dispense on it's history, impact in the world, and if it's a product, where and at what cost you can buy it. Of those three, let's just say one of them sent forth a wrath from our fraternity house chef in my direction so strong, that she would still remember it to this day.

In my latest "bright ideas", I convinced my buddy Timmy to run the Disney marathon with me. 26.2 miles. Using our legs. Continuously. In one motion. Towards the finish line. Where glory will be ours. Or a stretcher. Or in Timmy's case, a heaping pile of burgers and fries. You may remember Tim from previous posts where I have gluttonized the poor boy because of his eating habits. During my bachelor party, we went to an all you can eat steakhouse. He ate for two hours. TWO HOURS! Without stopping! He's a machine. When he runs a marathon, he's going to write a book called "The Eater's Guide To Running A Marathon", and there's going to be a picture of him at the end of the race with a plate of spaghetti in one hand and a hot dog in the other.

Editors Note..."One of the pictures in the middle is of Tim combining the spaghetti and the hot dog. It's not for the faint of heart."

Tim has already asked me if instead of Gatorade at each mile marker, if they will provide food. Disney would not return my phone calls.

While we are training, we have to run three or four times a week. The weekends are our long runs. Yesterday, I ran nearly ten miles and it felt like I was running for hours. To the point where it felt someone else was moving my legs and I didn't have control over them.

But, hey, 16 more and we would have completed our mission.

Good God, what have we gotten ourselves into?

We are 83 days away and counting!

P.S. Is it bad that, recently I had a dream about running the marathon and I woke up in a panic? I don't need a dreamologist to tell me I'm having anxiety about this!