Sunday, January 24, 2010
Music Sunday - Wedding Edition
Damnwells - I've Got You
The Meters - Just Kissed My Baby
Ben Folds - The Luckiest
The Cure - Just Like Heaven
Badly Drawn Boy - Magic in the Air
Chuck Ragan - Rotterdam
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Hysteric
Saturday, January 23, 2010
1/23/2010
Bench Press 3x5 @ 225# - failed on 3rd set, needed spotter help on 5th rep. I blame it on no breakfast and rushing through sets (I was running late). Or, I'm a big ol' puss. You decide.
Dead Lift 1x5 @ 405#
Dips 3x5 +24kg
Apparently sausage and peppers is great any time of day. Had some in my morning omelet, just had some for dinner (thanks Paul B.). Delicious.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Let Me See That Thooooooong
Well. It finally happened. I finally ripped my pants. It started on Christmas when not one pair of the usually reliable 34x32’s that I got as gifts would button. Weird, I thought to myself. I justified it as the brands ran smaller or the more likely scenario that I’d eaten a lot before I tried anything on. Afterall, my “food babies” are legendary. Then, at work on Wednesday, as I was walking down the stairs, Eileen, the sweet heart who sits in the next cube over and bring my candy pointed out, “Eric, I think your pants ripped.” Shock. Awe. Mild embarrassment. These were nice pants too. A regular in the rotation.
I arrived home, went to pick up the kitten and **rip** went the pants, through the ass and down the leg. The pants were done. Oh well.
But I realized something this morning. A large rump is the sign of a magnificent athelte. My waist hasn’t gotten any bigger, afterall, my 34’s still actually fit. But take a look around. Find the best athletes and all of them have bodacious booty’s.
Larry Fitzgerald: bootylicious. Jose Reyes and Albert Pujols: stacked in the back. Carmelo Anthony: built like a brick house.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with having a butt that you can set your drink on. It just means that you’ve been giving your posterior chain some much needed love. What this means for me: I’m doing something right and no more “slim-fit” jeans. BFD.
Editors Note: I was eating a chipwich while writing that post