Wasn't that bitch dead a minute ago?
I stepped outside of the PX trailer this afternoon with a pack of cigarettes in one hand and a bottle of orange-pineapple juice in the other. As I was having an internal monologue comprised of bitching about the heat I noticed a couple guys with a can of Copenhagen Snuff. Now, I used to do indulge in the long cut about a year ago, but quit due to the social stigma against it. It's terribly hard to talk to women when you have a wad of black shit in your mouth as you spit out discolored saliva all over the ground. What was crazy about these two was their discussion about snuff originally being an inhalant, followed by both of them reachin their fingers in their cans and ingesting it through their noses. I couldn't help but ask them how it felt as I could imagine doing that would it burn the nose, or at least nauseate the stomach, but they told me that they were feeling fine and dandy. They asked me if I wanted to try a bump to which I politely declined. With all the chemicals that have gone up my nose in the past, I sure as hell wasn't about to try my taste in inhaling finely cut tobacco.
Once the sun went down, Cooper and I had dinner and then made our way to the gym. I started doing this Insanity program in the back room, which of course, kicks the hell out of me each night. After the hour I'm soaked in sweat but thriving on enough endorphins to keep going for another hour. Tonight I focused on my arms, steadily progressing the weight while imagining how I'll feel walking off the plane in Washington with enough muscle mass to kill a child. I also like to think about the intimate nights with a particular someone and all the crazy dirty things that have been saved up in my mind over the year. I try to get that scenario out of my head when it becomes to vivid. I don't want to walk around the gym with a full on erection. That would be a wakka wakka wakka moment indeed.
Finally, I think about all the people across the country who I've pissed off in the last few months and how many of them would love to kick my ass. There's at least a handful in Tacoma alone, so I might as well be ready to throw down.
Before leaving the gym their stereo played Tool's Prison Sex. It strangely reminded me of my friends back home, and not for reasons that you're thinking of. I made a mental note to give Jay a call sometime this week to talk about comics and women.
As soon as I get back to the tent I'm going to continue studying a few more pages of Chapter 2 while continuing to watch Zombie Strippers. The movie is awesome because the director realized that he or she cannot take the subject matter seriously and therefore implemented gore, tits, and thrash metal. When shitty movies try to earn merit they always end up becoming 90 minutes of bullshit, especially when it comes to zombie flics (i.e. Day of the Dead 2008).
So I'll finish this movie tonight, along with the chapter, and hopefully be able to fall asleep before 3AM like I've failed to do for the past week.
Once the sun went down, Cooper and I had dinner and then made our way to the gym. I started doing this Insanity program in the back room, which of course, kicks the hell out of me each night. After the hour I'm soaked in sweat but thriving on enough endorphins to keep going for another hour. Tonight I focused on my arms, steadily progressing the weight while imagining how I'll feel walking off the plane in Washington with enough muscle mass to kill a child. I also like to think about the intimate nights with a particular someone and all the crazy dirty things that have been saved up in my mind over the year. I try to get that scenario out of my head when it becomes to vivid. I don't want to walk around the gym with a full on erection. That would be a wakka wakka wakka moment indeed.
Finally, I think about all the people across the country who I've pissed off in the last few months and how many of them would love to kick my ass. There's at least a handful in Tacoma alone, so I might as well be ready to throw down.
Before leaving the gym their stereo played Tool's Prison Sex. It strangely reminded me of my friends back home, and not for reasons that you're thinking of. I made a mental note to give Jay a call sometime this week to talk about comics and women.
As soon as I get back to the tent I'm going to continue studying a few more pages of Chapter 2 while continuing to watch Zombie Strippers. The movie is awesome because the director realized that he or she cannot take the subject matter seriously and therefore implemented gore, tits, and thrash metal. When shitty movies try to earn merit they always end up becoming 90 minutes of bullshit, especially when it comes to zombie flics (i.e. Day of the Dead 2008).
So I'll finish this movie tonight, along with the chapter, and hopefully be able to fall asleep before 3AM like I've failed to do for the past week.