Because I am about to talk about our local weather while intending to do fuck-all about it!1!
It is snowing here in mid-Northish Joisey, which means that Ian's school will almost certainly have a late opening or be closed altogether. Which means either Teh 'Bride or I will have to stay home with him. I hope it's a delayed opening, because then I could stay home with him till his school opens, then drive to work when the roads, in theory, will be clearer and there will be fewer foax on them, to boot2.
[5:10 Update: The robo-call just came. Verdict: Schools are closed.]
But here's the thing: Because it is snowing yet again, I will, yet again, be unable to run this morning, which means more time spent riding Morrissey, my p*ssy-@$$ recumbent exercise bike. Look, I'm all for giving it to Morrissey — HARD!1! — (and God knows he's into it) but, really, all this Morrissey-riding is starting to put the dick in ridickulous because, as a dude, I am genetically predisposed to seek out different forms of exercise. It's a "fact"3. Look, it's not that I don "love" Morrissey in my own way, but he gets boring after a while and sometimes? I just want to get the whole experience with him over with as quickly as possible.
I said it.
If that makes me a horrible person and a selfish exerciser, so be it. I don't intend to change now, at this advanced age.
Yesterday, I was able to get in a 6.86-mile run at a 9:24 pace. This is pretty bad, even though it was dark and there were still patches of snow and ice to avoid and I can conveniently blame my slowness on that. But it has been a looooong time since I have been able to run 7 miles at a sub-9-minute pace. Okay, so maybe expecting to be able to do that in winter conditions is expecting too much. But a nice compensation for the slowness would be having the opportunity to log more miles with additional runs.
But that ain't happening so far.
I guess I should just be happy that my old, dependable whoo-wer of a recumbent exercise bike is around for me to take this frustration out on.
Because he likes it rough. And I'm in the mood to give it to him that way: HARD!1!
1 Yeah, everybody "knows" it was Mark Twain, but there's like zero evidence for that. For the longest time, the earliest known instance of this quote was from Teh Hartford Courant of Connecticut dated August 27, 1897, in an editorial almost certainly written by Warner in which he foolishly said:
A well known American writer said once that, while everybody talked about the weather, nobody seemed to do anything about it... evidently believing that his readers would know that the "well known American writer" he was referring to was he himself. Fucktard. Because who the fuck is Charles Dudley Warner and why would anyone attribute anything to him other than Honorary Wienerhood for having such a Wiener name? Little did CDW know that there is a Quotation Equation in every red-blooded American's mind that goes: "Words + Funny + Pithy + Quotable = Source: Mark Twain" which kicks in in the absence of any overt attribution for any Amusing Quote. (In much the same way that "Words + Blatant Factual Inaccuracies + Vague-to-Overt Racism + Wingnut Slant = Source: Faux News/Rush Limbaugh" kicks in, too, in the absence of attribution; but that latter formula has the saving grace of giving you a better chance of getting at the truth than the former does.)
Anyroad, some intrepid quote-investigating soul evidently traced that saying back to a couple of even earlier dates and found it being overtly attributed to Warner. So the issue of the true source is pretty much settled. Yet as we all know, it will continue to be attributed to Twain based on the above formula. Which is perhaps his compensation for having his masterpiece bowdlerized. Again.
When, O, when will We as a Nation learn that only Rush should be allowed to get away with using racially-charged epithets?
2 Because when there are a lot of people on the road? I like to boot them.
And if you're wondering why I should be the one who gets the benefit of the later, theoretically clearer, commute instead of Teh 'Bride, here's why:
Teh 'Bride's commute: Three miles.
Say it with me, my 7 regular readers: "Mine's Bigger."
3 Propz to Rush and Faux News, who own the copyright on "facts", and who have generously allowed me to use that term to describe assertions that I would otherwise have to characterize as "blatant mendacities" (without the quotation marks).