nothin and more nothin

running by myself is hard. i always want to stop. but i don't. i grouse and i grumble to myself. but boogie trots along. and then i feel guilty if i start walking in the middle of a run interval, so i force myself to run up a hill that i might normally walk, or something akin to that.

birthmachine on cafe press has some awful slogans. but the children are sexy one still makes me snort with laughter.

i really have fuckin nothing of interest to say lately

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