EIGHTAPLE™
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Month: February 2010
259/365
Remember that one Seinfeld episode where Kramer and the used car salesman go on a test drive and see how far past the “E” on the gas gauge they can go before they actually run out of gas?
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I would not recommend trying this during rush hour on the 290.
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258/365
Well, I failed at picture-taking today, so I turn to Storm Team 24 to save me.
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Ticka Ticka
Many likely won’t have noticed what was perhaps the biggest reveal of tonight’s episode about two-thirds of the way through it (though you should have, if you’ve been on-board with Lost since season 1 and are well-versed in the art of pausing live TV via DVR), but let me deal with some old business and some thematic discussion first. The last bit of follow-up from last week’s premiere can be found in the comments section of the recap: click here. Now then, on to this week’s unfortunately titled episode, “What Kate Does.” I call it unfortunate because Kate’s steadily grown to be the most annoying and one-note character on the show. She’s either running, crying or making out with Sawyer or Jack. I’m hoping the writers have more in store for her to make all this tedium worthwhile in the end, but I’m not holding my breath.
Yes, Kate, we’re all crying too at the prospect of another season of you on the run.
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All that’s left between me and full ownership of my car:
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256/365
The frozen tundra of Amherst, NY.
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Gueax-ing to the Super Bowl
In what’s become an annual tradition right up there with Christmas and the Bills firing a coach, herewith is contained my latest Super Bowl running diary. The site is Joe Robbie Stadium in Miami, FL (I’ll be damned if I’m going to call it “Sun Life Stadium” adorned on the vinyl banners all over the place when the company just bought the naming rights a few weeks ago) and it’s the offensive juggernaut that is the Indianapolis Colts versus the team that’s captured the imagination of an America ready to root for an underdog from a city decimated by a natural disaster just a few short years ago, the New Orleans Saints. That was a hell of a run-on sentence, folks; let’s get started.
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Super Bowl Sunday at the Sorokas with Suds.
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254/365
A group of us capped off the weeklong celebration of Lindsey’s birthday with a trip to the Colden Tubing Company at Kissing Bridge. We weren’t there for more than 15 minutes when a girl versed in the arts of extreme snow-tubing showed off by sliding approximately fifteen feet on her face. Alas, I was too stunned to capture this in a photograph, but as the blood on her face and the sign below will attest: travel these slopes at your own risk.
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Check out a few more pics here: Snow-Tubing Image Gallery.
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I haven’t had Golden Grahams in at least 5 years.
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