This past week, the nation celebrated the birthday of our founding, the Fourth of July. I celebrated it by riding around a few hours, doing something close to nothing because it was as hot as an oven...and everything was closed. Except the mall: the mall never closes.
Anyway, after all that, you'd think I'd be content to settle in for a quiet night of just reading (because both the lack of original programming and the ability to get in a majority of the channels has limited my TV viewing options since about at least late May. Thanks again, thunderstorm). You'd be wrong.
My uncle got a pool put in a while back, and I'd been meaning to get my toes wet in it for a while. But various things kept coming up, such as my lack of swimming trunks and ability to swim (lack thereof). But on Wednesday, in the midst of "maybe the Mayans were right" hot weather, I managed to scrounge up some trunks that might belong to my n'er-do-well younger brother and I set out for the pool.
I spent about an hour in the water, just chilling. When I got out, I was sure I'd have some additions to my farmer's tan, like maybe a little blistering but nothing too shabby. Nature was cruel to me: not that I got too pink, but that I didn't get pink at all. I still look like I'm wearing a tan, flesh-colored hairy shirt.
Gosh darn it.
Anyway, I had a genuinely good time Wednesday, and I even got a little into the patriotic spirit (because, as you know, I voted for Obama, and anyone who does that is a Godless commie liberal gay-loving French-food-eating tutu-wearing cut-the-military-budget pansy). America may not be the best country in the world, but we're not the worst. That honor belongs to Andorra.
Go look it up...
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