Stale nachos and cheerios
None of this has anything to do with anything.
Last night a man on the street told me I was too tall. He just looked at me and said, "You're too tall.", I had my headphones on so I just kept walking. Either he was slightly crazy or I am too tall. He didn't look crazy.
Also last night, while I was running, some of the local hooligans decided to get in a little brawl. As I ran towards what I'd say was roughly seven to nine kids in a tight group, two of them decided to tackle one and then the melee broke out. They went into the ground off the paved path and dust flew up in there wake, kinda cool. As I ran past the pile I wondered if it was indifferent of me not to stop or practical. When I made my way back around and saw them "kicking it" as if nothing had happened it was clear which it was.
Later in my run one of the younger ones attempted to run with me. He gave up after about twenty five yards or so but it was nice to have the company.
On the train this morning at my second stop a gaggle of German tourists got on the train and of course sat right next to me. Normally not a problem except for the fact that five of them decided to try to fit in a space usually reserved for two. Of course the one closest to me was a plump little brown haired thing who had the distinct smell of a stale nacho chip and a baby eating cheerios. This was compounded by the fact that they all felt the need to talk quite loud and take as many pictures as they could with what seemed like matching Canon SLR digital cameras. As much as I don't like having my picture taken by people I know, I dislike even more having it taken by people I don't know, especially smelly touristy ones. So I now fear I'll be a permanent fixture in some German summer home on a mantle next to a picture of a dog. To top it all they got off at the stop right before my own preventing me from the satisfaction of leaving them.
Why don't girls like politics? Every girl I have ever known has said she either;
A. Doesn't care about them.
B. Doesn't understand them.
C. Will care later. (though we both know that's not true.)
I'm not even really into them but it seems like most just refuse to admit they exist. I don't get it.
While I was back in the good 'ol Midwest the topic of camping came up. Who the hell goes camping? Well let me tell you. Here is a list of whom it is acceptable to go camping;
1. Boy scouts.
That's it. Otherwise you're just a tool in a tent.
Last night a man on the street told me I was too tall. He just looked at me and said, "You're too tall.", I had my headphones on so I just kept walking. Either he was slightly crazy or I am too tall. He didn't look crazy.
Also last night, while I was running, some of the local hooligans decided to get in a little brawl. As I ran towards what I'd say was roughly seven to nine kids in a tight group, two of them decided to tackle one and then the melee broke out. They went into the ground off the paved path and dust flew up in there wake, kinda cool. As I ran past the pile I wondered if it was indifferent of me not to stop or practical. When I made my way back around and saw them "kicking it" as if nothing had happened it was clear which it was.
Later in my run one of the younger ones attempted to run with me. He gave up after about twenty five yards or so but it was nice to have the company.
On the train this morning at my second stop a gaggle of German tourists got on the train and of course sat right next to me. Normally not a problem except for the fact that five of them decided to try to fit in a space usually reserved for two. Of course the one closest to me was a plump little brown haired thing who had the distinct smell of a stale nacho chip and a baby eating cheerios. This was compounded by the fact that they all felt the need to talk quite loud and take as many pictures as they could with what seemed like matching Canon SLR digital cameras. As much as I don't like having my picture taken by people I know, I dislike even more having it taken by people I don't know, especially smelly touristy ones. So I now fear I'll be a permanent fixture in some German summer home on a mantle next to a picture of a dog. To top it all they got off at the stop right before my own preventing me from the satisfaction of leaving them.
Why don't girls like politics? Every girl I have ever known has said she either;
A. Doesn't care about them.
B. Doesn't understand them.
C. Will care later. (though we both know that's not true.)
I'm not even really into them but it seems like most just refuse to admit they exist. I don't get it.
While I was back in the good 'ol Midwest the topic of camping came up. Who the hell goes camping? Well let me tell you. Here is a list of whom it is acceptable to go camping;
1. Boy scouts.
That's it. Otherwise you're just a tool in a tent.
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