The Red Sox suck
The next time I hear a woman yell at her child in obscenities on the subway I am going to tell her how she is fucking up her kid.
26.2 is going to be tough, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got it.
The Red Sox suck.
I like beer.
Looking for apartments sucks because most people want to live with women. I do miss my place on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The sacrifices we make.
I’m a little lost.
I like brewing beer.
I think Wild Birch Ale will be a hit.
I think we need a banner for Wild Birch Ale for the Harbor Yard Brew Fest. We did get our beer into a brew fest. Not bad.
I’m going to the Colbert Report tonight. Not that it is my favorite show, but it should be an experience.
Running up hills in Central Park is easier now that I have lost about 19 pounds since my “fattest days” in May. I’m still not skinny.
I wish more people would read my book. It would make life so much better.
Summer nights, when it isn’t so hot and not at all cold are my favorite nights.
Horrible, horrible storms are a close second.
Trader Joe’s is my new Mecca.
My IT Band is a prick.
The bottoms of my feet hate me. I hate the bottoms of my feet. It is a cycle of abuse that must stop.
Socks. Good socks are amazing.