« Random letter to son | Main | Grunt »

Wednesday, 13 July 2005



Good 'Effin Luck!


Been nice knowin' ya', Si.

And say bye to those knees for me. I can't WALK down a mountain without mine giving out, much less run. And I didn't pre-damage mine nearly as bad as it sounds like you did yours. Remember: ice for twenty-four to forty-eight hours for swelling, heat after that for healing. Also, ibuprofen is your friend. Helps with swelling, too.

Good luck, buddy! You'll need it.


Pre-eulogy: Simon was a great dad and husband until he decided to try and kill himself on the "Why Wait For the Heart Attack To Come to you" Marathon. Even for a heathen, he was a moral and wunnerful guy! Simon In Space will finally win some major award now that he has passed on and You really should get a jump on reading it( in The people I know of section) cuz' Katie and Matt are looking for interviewees in this tragedy as it appears that Simon was eaten by a big ole' grizzly bear and perturbed by a talking bat. I know, sad, but true....


Oh My God! Your 2003 excuse is so bad that I don't think I'LL be able to run for the next month.


Jeepers, remind me not to come crying to any of you for motivation when the time comes, eh?

Buncha pessimistic poopie-heads! Heck, I'll do it in SPITE of your nay-saying...

The comments to this entry are closed.