Really, all that means is I'm worn out all the time. It's gotten progressively worse every year and this spring is no exception. Last year was brutal, and I ended up getting a shot in the booty to stem the tide of crumminess. The allergies were so bad that my skin hurt to touch. It spells bad news for me. I'm perpetually getting ready for the San Francisco Marathon, so this gets in the way, and it's effort to do anything. Dammit I sound like a little wiener, but oh, fucking, well. Assholes.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
You'd think a blog called Mile High Ramblings would have something to say about Brandon Marshall's television fight, but we, at least I, don't. Except to say, damn, that's a crazy story but I believe it.
I'm glad I wasn't on this flight. I was on runway at SFO once when the engines died or lost electricity. That was an uneasy feeling.
Posted by Roscoe Galt at 8:25 AM