I know there hasn't been much excitement around here the last few days. What? Who just said "try months"? Well, maybe you can re-read the posts for the last year with the new knowledge that as I wrote them, my DELL laptop could have burst into flames at any moment. Now that's drama, right? Dude, you're gettin' a crotch fire! Insert your own "flamer in my lap" joke here.While my current concerns aren't focused specifically on my crotch, this morning I'm getting a battery of tests. Mostly blood tests, but I'll add that a needle won't be the only thing inserted in me and leave it at that. I just haven't felt right lately and so I'm doing a few things to see if I can blanket out the smoldering concern. I mean, I ran 10 miles on Sunday at 7:20 pace (the specifics are for Andrew), so how bad off can I be? I probably wouldn't share this at all, except I've fasted for 12 hours for the blood work and since that's like 5 or 6 skipped meals for me, I'm loopy. And having delusions. And harboring illusions. OK, that last one is totally my default mode.
Later, I'm heading down to watch the boys play tennis in Cincy. Nadal, Federer, and Roddick are all on the slate today. Did you hear that? It was the distinct sharp gay inhale of excitement from all the tennis queers out there. Envy me, bitches.