Maybe I Shouldn't Have Had A V8

Gas prices, as we all know, are going to the moon. Which makes my purchase of a 300+ HP V8 hunk of Detroit muscle a bit...confounding. Yes, the Black Mamba (as I affectionately nicknamed the car) will shut down 4 cylinders when it hits mythical 'cruising' speed, but that will only happen on the freeway...not on the stop and go heavy A Street that takes me to the Auburn Train station. While I appreciate the growl of the deep baritone exhaust note, I could do without watching money fly out the tailpipes every time I accelerate a bit too enthusiastically...which is easy to do because the Mamba just wants to run. Yes, from the outside the car does appear to be just another nondescript family cruiser, but the engine is all go all the time. And if something like Johnny Cash's 'Rusty Cage' is pumping out the Bose sound system, well...it is on. I'm going to have to learn how to moderate my need for commuter speed or the cost of ownership for the Mamba will go through the roof...at this rate, I could have bought a needy and temperamental German car, saved on gas and spent more on eventual repairs...

Who's Gonna Drive You Home?

I finally broke down and bought a car....not a new one...a pre-owned vehicle because new car prices are outrageous. Who the hell can swing the payment on a new car, even after putting money down and getting a decent interest rate? Not this guy...

So, what did I end up with? I purchased a 2006 Chevy Impala SS (that would be super sport), which is kind of a ridiculous car. I mean, the thing is a 300 hp beast of a cruiser with an all black interior and exterior and tinted rear windows. A friend of African-American persuasion told me it was a straight up brotha car, so I guess I have to start smoking menthol Kools and ordering purple drank when I hit the bars. Or not. I think it looks more like a Russian gangster mobile, myself.

Whitney Houston died. I didn't feel an ounce of anything upon hearing the news. Her music meant sweet eff all to me. In the end, she was a drunken base head and her appetite for destruction caught up to her. But who the hell didn't see this coming? She has been in a downward spiral since marrying that buffoon Bobby Brown.

Good to see the Grammys had no problem being a vehicle for the 'forget Chris Brown beat the piss out of Rihanna' movement. Seriously, Chris Brown has yet to actually own up and apologize for what he did, going so far as to name his latest sh*t album F.A.M.E. (forgiving all my enemies)...because it was his enemies that tried to hold him accountable for his cowardly and disgusting behavior, right? Someone needs to beat him with the same fury he beat Rihanna with...and all of you posting on Twitter how you'd let Chris Brown beat you because you find him attractive...kindly GFY, okay? Thanks for playing...

Coldplay sucks. I don't get their appeal at all...they are bland, banal, and Mr. Paltrow is almost as annoying as his wife. I did enjoy the Beach Boys tribute, however, and I don't even like the Beach Boys. That goofy kid from Foster The People would make a great Brian Wilson if they ever do a biopic of that loony guy. Adam Levine didn't even really bother me that much, and Maroon 5 is not a band I'd consider ever calling 'good'.

Oh, Taylor Swift...you weren't fooling me with that banjo you weren't playing and that microphone that wasn't plugged in. Yeah, you pre-recorded your vocals because last time you sang live at the Grammys it was an unmitigated disaster. I'm not sure what was going on with the Country Bear Jamboree stage set either... and please stop with the patented 'Taylor Swift Surprise Face' when you win awards and what have you. It's getting old and your humble act is now coming across as contrived...and someone saying you can't sing doesn't make them mean, it makes them honest. I'm not sure where your career is headed, but at some point your fanbase of tweens is going to grow up and leave you behind.

That's about all of the Grammys I watched before the melatonin kicked in...and that's about all I could deal with. Adele has a lovely voice and is a great talent, but her music isn't for me...so I didn't have much use for the Grammys since the show was one big Adele love fest.

Ya know who I do kind of like? Colbie Cailatt, that's who...some of her songs, and not the one that is going to be played at weddings for the next 15 years, have a Todd Rundgren vibe to them. I also like the fact that she was turned down for American Idol twice because eff American Idol, that's why. Aside from Kelly Clarkson, there hasn't been a decent AI winner or contestant. Carrie Underwood has some pipes, but like Adele she just isn't for me. I've always appreciated Kelly Clarkson's voice and her determination to do things her way, even at the expense of some of her fan base. Yeah, some of her tunes are silly, but she can wail.

Happy Valentine's Day, the ultimate no win holiday because no matter how hard you try, you will always come up short in her eyes. Peace!

No Sweat

My workout goal each and every day is to burn at least 500 calories on the treadmill and/or run 3.25 miles in under 36 minutes. I can usually exceed the calorie count by at least 100, but knocking out 3.25 miles in 36 minutes can be murder on my knees, especially on days I have to ease into the pace...which is most days. That means I have to pick up the pace during the middle portion of the run to make my goal. Either way, by the end of my workout (during my lunch hour at work)I'm a complete disaster and cranking out some serious BTUs. By disaster I mean 'sweating like a stuck pig in the middle of a Georgia heat wave'. It takes me forever to cool down...even after a leisurely cool shower. I'll get back to my desk and sweat is still pouring down my bald head 20 minutes later...it's quite lovely. And charming.

Anyhoo, I pushed my run especially hard today and busted out 3.5 miles in 36 minutes and burned 786 calories in the process thanks to adding some inclines to my routine. I jumped off the treadmill, stretched some, took a quick walk outside to start cooling off, then hit the showers. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to spend as much time under cool water as I normally do as the locker room was crowded. Also, I was scheduled to interview someone about 45 minutes after I was done getting dressed, etc...plenty of time to cool off even without the lengthy shower. So, I got dressed while still pumping out more hot air than a Heat Dish and thinking I still had a big chunk of time until the interview...

When I got back to my desk, the other half of the interview team was waiting for me...our candidate was ready and waiting...I wasn't. In fact, I was sweating like Shawn Kemp during warmups after a hard night of boozin' at the UDistrict Keg...Kemp liked his Keg sized beers and plenty of them, so he was always pouring sweat after about 5 minutes of a layup drill. That was me, heading to do an interview. I was sweating through my shirt, it was running off my head...I had to try and towel off in the men's room before walking into the interview room, but it was to no avail...If no one had known better, they would have thought I was the one being put through an exceptionally grueling interview/interrogation...it was very uncomfortable, but I'm a pro and acted as if nothing was wrong...it also helped that I knew the person being interviewed, but it was still a bit awkward. I mean, my shirt was drenched, it was unsightly....

The lesson, as always, is that I'm an idiot...and don't accept interview requests that are scheduled after a work out. I may also look into one of those fat boy desk fans some chubbies keep at their desk for those days the AC just isn't working hard enough...

Stay classy!