LONDON (AFP) : Queen Elizabeth II's eldest grandchild could lose his place in the line of succession to the British throne if he marries his Catholic fiancee, newspapers reported Friday.
Citing sleuthing work by Catholic weekly The Tablet, newspapers said Peter Phillips' Canadian fiancee Autumn Kelly, 31, was baptised as a Catholic in Quebec. !!!!!!!
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
tentac-ALS
Wherein Al reports on the Lumpy Pancake Olympic Triathlon and tells all about getting stung by a fucking jellyfish
Yesterday was tough. It was terribly hot. At Seven in the AM, it was already well into the upper 80s and VERY HUMID!
There was some delay to start the swim. First, there was some discussion about the course marking. Next, there was some discussion, it seemed, about a passing wave of jellyfish. Both these points would prove important later. We began the swim, though, without incident.
Somewhere mid swim two things happened. 1) I realized that Stevie Wonder had marked the course. I was at the midway buoy and the course was swimming VERY LONG. There was a good deal of current, so I wondered if it just felt long. (Fighting current can be a real slow, grueling bitch.) But, post race, all Olympic competitors I spoke to said the same thing: "LONG!" 2) About 200 yards after midway, I felt something strange on my face, in my mouth. It was a squishy something. I pushed it away and noticed many other squishy somethings--jellyfish. I kept swimming, reasoning that the faster I was through them the better. I almost made it. I suffered one minor sting on the upper arm and neck. The suit protected me from the rest. The sting was annoying and a bit painful, but I was able to continue on without difficulty.
We transitioned to bike and I got going cleanly. I moved ass out of the water and got to my bike expeditiously. I ripped off the suit and got the shoes on quickly. I did not use the "shoes clipped in method." Instead, I ran in my shoes and clipped in as I pulled past the "mounting zone." All was smooth, and I was out on the road.
Have I mentioned that it was hot as a pair of balls? The bike was pretty flat except for one long, steep climb. And there was little wind. So the course wasn't very challenging in those ways. But it was brutal. The sun beat down and there was no air. A couple of notes: the course leader wiped out on the downhill. It was a very fast, steep section with a sharp turn to it and some road hazards--a rough section and an uneven manhole cover. I heard he went down here. I also heard he was taken away on a stretcher. I saw the ambulance. But I did not see the wreckage nor any EMTs at work. From the bike I transitioned cleanly to the run, grabbing a few gels, slamming on a cap, stowing the bike, slipping on the shoes. Then I was pounding the pavement...
The heat was ON! It was so humid and sweltering that runners were staggering and dropping. I saw several more ambulances along the route and heard of a "cross the line and drop" finisher who was scooped up and taken away. Gels and gatorade kept me upright, though. And I dumped a sea-ful of H2O on the ole noggin. I crossed the line in 2:54.09, and BOY was I glad to be done. I came in 70th overall, 55th among men, and 12th in the 35-40 Men bracket. I'm still re-hydrating and, needless to say, feeling a bit like hammered shit. But I'm a good deal better than poor Al K. He DQd in the swim when he stopped and swam ashore to get out of his wetsuit (it was WAY too warm for the full suit he had on). To add insult to injury, someone swiped the suit from where it lay on the beach. Poor fucker.
Yesterday was tough. It was terribly hot. At Seven in the AM, it was already well into the upper 80s and VERY HUMID!
There was some delay to start the swim. First, there was some discussion about the course marking. Next, there was some discussion, it seemed, about a passing wave of jellyfish. Both these points would prove important later. We began the swim, though, without incident.
Somewhere mid swim two things happened. 1) I realized that Stevie Wonder had marked the course. I was at the midway buoy and the course was swimming VERY LONG. There was a good deal of current, so I wondered if it just felt long. (Fighting current can be a real slow, grueling bitch.) But, post race, all Olympic competitors I spoke to said the same thing: "LONG!" 2) About 200 yards after midway, I felt something strange on my face, in my mouth. It was a squishy something. I pushed it away and noticed many other squishy somethings--jellyfish. I kept swimming, reasoning that the faster I was through them the better. I almost made it. I suffered one minor sting on the upper arm and neck. The suit protected me from the rest. The sting was annoying and a bit painful, but I was able to continue on without difficulty.
We transitioned to bike and I got going cleanly. I moved ass out of the water and got to my bike expeditiously. I ripped off the suit and got the shoes on quickly. I did not use the "shoes clipped in method." Instead, I ran in my shoes and clipped in as I pulled past the "mounting zone." All was smooth, and I was out on the road.
Have I mentioned that it was hot as a pair of balls? The bike was pretty flat except for one long, steep climb. And there was little wind. So the course wasn't very challenging in those ways. But it was brutal. The sun beat down and there was no air. A couple of notes: the course leader wiped out on the downhill. It was a very fast, steep section with a sharp turn to it and some road hazards--a rough section and an uneven manhole cover. I heard he went down here. I also heard he was taken away on a stretcher. I saw the ambulance. But I did not see the wreckage nor any EMTs at work. From the bike I transitioned cleanly to the run, grabbing a few gels, slamming on a cap, stowing the bike, slipping on the shoes. Then I was pounding the pavement...
The heat was ON! It was so humid and sweltering that runners were staggering and dropping. I saw several more ambulances along the route and heard of a "cross the line and drop" finisher who was scooped up and taken away. Gels and gatorade kept me upright, though. And I dumped a sea-ful of H2O on the ole noggin. I crossed the line in 2:54.09, and BOY was I glad to be done. I came in 70th overall, 55th among men, and 12th in the 35-40 Men bracket. I'm still re-hydrating and, needless to say, feeling a bit like hammered shit. But I'm a good deal better than poor Al K. He DQd in the swim when he stopped and swam ashore to get out of his wetsuit (it was WAY too warm for the full suit he had on). To add insult to injury, someone swiped the suit from where it lay on the beach. Poor fucker.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
farcic-AL
Professional Sports Is a Joke
As the laughingstock that is the TdF confirms, cycling is a joke. And Bonds' quest for the final two homeruns to topple Aaron speaks volumes about the sham that is baseball. Bball is running for cover in the wake of this latest point shaving scandal. And don't say anything about football or Vick will bury you with one of his pitbulls. So let me ask you this, can anyone think of a worse time in professional sport? I mean, there have been terrible incidents--Black Sox, Ali banned, Festina etc. But have there been worse, across the board, times? July may well go down in history as the worst month ever for professional sport in the good ole U.S. of A.
And to top it all off, I've got a fucking head cold and a big event Sunday. But my Mets have come out of their slump after all star break, so it ain't all bad. Maybe they're on the Homer-diet.
As the laughingstock that is the TdF confirms, cycling is a joke. And Bonds' quest for the final two homeruns to topple Aaron speaks volumes about the sham that is baseball. Bball is running for cover in the wake of this latest point shaving scandal. And don't say anything about football or Vick will bury you with one of his pitbulls. So let me ask you this, can anyone think of a worse time in professional sport? I mean, there have been terrible incidents--Black Sox, Ali banned, Festina etc. But have there been worse, across the board, times? July may well go down in history as the worst month ever for professional sport in the good ole U.S. of A.
And to top it all off, I've got a fucking head cold and a big event Sunday. But my Mets have come out of their slump after all star break, so it ain't all bad. Maybe they're on the Homer-diet.
heterosexu-AL
Al tires of the fat guy on the beach pics and the puny, fag cyclist photoshop fun. Here's a little something for the hetero males still in attendance.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Disco Inferno
Somebody needs to beat the shit out of Levi on Tuesday night. Rough him the fuck up, old school style with metal pipes and boot leather to the chin. Get him all beat up and pissed.
It's Wednesday or nothing to slay Hematopollo, and Levi's the guy who's got to put his balls on the spit and go down in flames so Contador can win.
For ONCE Levi needs to go on the attack early and often and blow down in flames on the last climb. Give Contador a chance to really attack early against a tenderized bird.
FUCK 4TH PLACE, LEVI! GO DOWN BLOODY AND SCREAMING! PLUMMET DOWN THE GC! SLAY THE CHICKEN!
Monday, July 23, 2007
Beach Rules
Welcome to this installment of Moveitfred's Beach Rules. Moveitfred and family spent a lovely weekend lounging at the local town beach here on the beautiful north shore of Long Island, and Moveitfred would simply like to pass along a few tips for those of you intent on spending any amount of time in a pleasant, sandy locale this summer.
Here is a lovely shot of the beach this past Sunday. Here on the beautiful north shore of Long Island we tend to get a pretty benign crowd of well-educated, family-centered, well-mannered white people out at the beach.
Here you can see one of the reasons for the banality: ankle-high surf ripping onshore from Long Island sound.
First off. People: the paddleball game is no fun. Even the raddest paddleboarders only hit the ball twice--a serve and return. Then the ball zips over someone's head or skitters onto the sand. End of round. Who cares? Is there any way to keep score? To win? Fuck paddleball.
Now Moveitfred appreciates the attempt at cool beach activity from this dad. See, he went over to Dicks with his tax return, waved that check in the manager's face, and said "Me and my boy want to kayak!"
Next. People, don't bring cheap lawn furniture to the beach. Any chair woven in Mexico by child labor needs to stay in the garage at home. Also, consider the patterns you will embed into your fat backs when you get up.
No, there are chairs designed for beach sitting. Purchase a couple.
Skin cancer is not cool. If your one of those pussies who is all jacked up with fear over the UVA and B's messing with your inherently beautiful skin, then get yourself an umbrella. Just don't purchase overstock from Circus Vargas. You don't want children clamouring for the elephants and clowns.
You may be saying to yourself, "But Moveitfred, I'm not a beach person." OK, OK, we can't all be rad like Moveitfred. Take this gruppetto. First, cut out the depressing goth look. Save the black shit for when playing D&D with your friends while listening to old Manson records.
The boardshorts are mildly cool on this dude, but pair those bad boys with a matching T if you've got the layered skin look working on your backside.
Here the two Douchies are joined by a third scrote and are being pulled toward Queens at low tide. 
OK, Moveitfred is tired. He would just like to close with a request. Please, purchase yourself a surf mag, educate yourself on the culture, and come prepared. Moveitfred wants you to fit in.
Here is a lovely shot of the beach this past Sunday. Here on the beautiful north shore of Long Island we tend to get a pretty benign crowd of well-educated, family-centered, well-mannered white people out at the beach.
Here you can see one of the reasons for the banality: ankle-high surf ripping onshore from Long Island sound.Rad.
Oh, what the fuck. At least we're not in Kansas. And the south shore beaches have some good breaks...
But back to the north shore and this pleasant community beach. OK people, even if you are just going down to your local watering hole and it's, y'know, no big deal 'cause it's only a few miles from your house and if you forget something you can just go home and get it, still please avoid a few common mistakes.
First off. People: the paddleball game is no fun. Even the raddest paddleboarders only hit the ball twice--a serve and return. Then the ball zips over someone's head or skitters onto the sand. End of round. Who cares? Is there any way to keep score? To win? Fuck paddleball.
Here you can see bleached white Ric Ocasek dude (fuck, man, it's the end of July! First day out in the sun?) playing a rousing game with his mildly hot cousin.
Just keep that paddleball shit away from Moveitfred.
Now Moveitfred appreciates the attempt at cool beach activity from this dad. See, he went over to Dicks with his tax return, waved that check in the manager's face, and said "Me and my boy want to kayak!"As you can see he's got the full-blown kayak kit workin' the beach: from aqua shoes to neoprene gloves.
I'm sure this is great family fun, but please take part in this activity in the back bays away from Moveitfred. It disturbs Moveitfred when you beach your plastic craft and drag it along the rocky shore. The noise is horrific. Plus, this getup has got to result in some very un-rad tan lines.
Next. People, don't bring cheap lawn furniture to the beach. Any chair woven in Mexico by child labor needs to stay in the garage at home. Also, consider the patterns you will embed into your fat backs when you get up.
No, there are chairs designed for beach sitting. Purchase a couple.
Skin cancer is not cool. If your one of those pussies who is all jacked up with fear over the UVA and B's messing with your inherently beautiful skin, then get yourself an umbrella. Just don't purchase overstock from Circus Vargas. You don't want children clamouring for the elephants and clowns.
OK, we got a few things going on here. First, Rick and his hot little minx cousin are still playing the fucking paddleball.
But more importantly, people--tuck in your strings. Such a simple thing to do that will make a world of difference.
You may be saying to yourself, "But Moveitfred, I'm not a beach person." OK, OK, we can't all be rad like Moveitfred. Take this gruppetto. First, cut out the depressing goth look. Save the black shit for when playing D&D with your friends while listening to old Manson records.
The boardshorts are mildly cool on this dude, but pair those bad boys with a matching T if you've got the layered skin look working on your backside.
This kind of shit also disturbs Moveitfred and makes him throw up a little bit in his mouth.
Moveitfred hopes you are feeling a little better about your beach experience now. One final examination. Below we see somewhat of a rare sight along the sedate north shore beaches: the Long Island Douchebags. Normally one would find these specimins closer to the city, say adjacent to Massapequa or some such locales. But occasionally the tide shifts and these scrotes wash up just about anywhere.
Notice how the poly athletic shorts are taking on water and slipping into the depths to expose the all-cotton boxers. Now that's a comfy wet combo. Douchey Vincent on the right is trying to talk his younger cousin Richie into getting some Jesus bling and matching tats.
Here the two Douchies are joined by a third scrote and are being pulled toward Queens at low tide.
About 50 more miles, UberDouches....
OK, Moveitfred is tired. He would just like to close with a request. Please, purchase yourself a surf mag, educate yourself on the culture, and come prepared. Moveitfred wants you to fit in. Saturday, July 21, 2007
What the?
Suddenly Chicken is one of the top time trialers in the world? WTF? Did he just luck out with dry roads or is there, ahem, something else going on? He looked baked at the end of it all.
Is Levi giving his all and no better than a 5th place rider, or is he saving for something? Shooting par on every stage does not a Tour win. Do that too often and suddenly someone else is leading your team.
Can Vino get back 5 plus mins? That guy's Kazak blood looks boiling mad.
Is Evans the real deal? He seems to be having more success playing the Levi game.
Will Sastre and Mayo pop off some big days in the mountains? What the hell, right?
Who the hell is Kashechkin? Another one of those commie goons?
Is Klöden going to win the whole damn thing?
Tune in tomorrow....
Is Levi giving his all and no better than a 5th place rider, or is he saving for something? Shooting par on every stage does not a Tour win. Do that too often and suddenly someone else is leading your team.
Can Vino get back 5 plus mins? That guy's Kazak blood looks boiling mad.
Is Evans the real deal? He seems to be having more success playing the Levi game.
Will Sastre and Mayo pop off some big days in the mountains? What the hell, right?
Who the hell is Kashechkin? Another one of those commie goons?
Is Klöden going to win the whole damn thing?
Tune in tomorrow....
Friday, July 20, 2007
Chicken Shit?
From cyclingnews.com:
"Prudhomme informed the press that the Danish federation was unable to find Michael Rasmussen for doping tests on May 8 and June 28, 2007, despite a program in place where riders need to always let the national federations know if they travel and where they can be reached."
Hey, that's one way not to get caught.
"Prudhomme informed the press that the Danish federation was unable to find Michael Rasmussen for doping tests on May 8 and June 28, 2007, despite a program in place where riders need to always let the national federations know if they travel and where they can be reached."
Hey, that's one way not to get caught.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
bi-AL
Wherein Al Discusses His Training and Upcoming Events (as opposed to Jerk it Fred who discusses his stroke material)
Here's a little bit of coincidence for you:
Yesterday, I was doing a brutal duALthlon in prep for a week from Sunday's Olympic Tri.
The workout consisted of a 20 mile ride--a loop course that I repeated 4 times including 4x up a nice hill in a loop. Then I transitioned to a 5 mile run repeating this same hill 4x again. In the transition, I grabbed 2 lemon/lime power gels and stuffed 'em in my pocket, and pulled my run bottle to rehydrate on the move. It was hot, and I was dry and definitely short on cals (I'd skipped lunch for some stupid reason). Anyway, I sucked down both gels while trotting and choked down some electolyte drink. {An aside about gel...never liked 'em. They have the consistency of toothpaste, and I gag on them in the best circumstances.} As the second went down, I knew I was in trouble. Rumble. Teary Gag. Acid burp. HURL! Mid stride, I spewed the gels roadside.
After a 1/2 mile, I was ok and smiling. Iwas thinking of poor fucking Heywood, the dumbass pedaling up everest and trying to choke down a tuna melt.
Anyway, here's a little something in the run/bike vein:
Here's a little bit of coincidence for you:
Yesterday, I was doing a brutal duALthlon in prep for a week from Sunday's Olympic Tri.
The workout consisted of a 20 mile ride--a loop course that I repeated 4 times including 4x up a nice hill in a loop. Then I transitioned to a 5 mile run repeating this same hill 4x again. In the transition, I grabbed 2 lemon/lime power gels and stuffed 'em in my pocket, and pulled my run bottle to rehydrate on the move. It was hot, and I was dry and definitely short on cals (I'd skipped lunch for some stupid reason). Anyway, I sucked down both gels while trotting and choked down some electolyte drink. {An aside about gel...never liked 'em. They have the consistency of toothpaste, and I gag on them in the best circumstances.} As the second went down, I knew I was in trouble. Rumble. Teary Gag. Acid burp. HURL! Mid stride, I spewed the gels roadside.
After a 1/2 mile, I was ok and smiling. Iwas thinking of poor fucking Heywood, the dumbass pedaling up everest and trying to choke down a tuna melt.
Anyway, here's a little something in the run/bike vein:
Thank You For Playing
Moveitfred would like to thank Johnny Applebag for participating in yesterday's quiz. Well Johnny, although you were in the correct ballpark with all of your answers Moveitfred is afraid you were ultimately incorrect. Score: zero.
Sorry Johnny (and all you other readers who Moveitfred is sure have been pondering these questions and formulating answers), the prize for yesterday's quiz will be put back into storage until the next quiz.
Ok, so the answers to the July 18 quiz can be found at Mandy Lozano's blog.
Ms. Lozano has a curtain of hair, a bff named Cara, a modeling career, and a picture of her bruised, bare ass up on the web.
Ms. Lozano can also beat the crap out of all 3 bicoastal boys in a 1 vs 3 sprint.
Ms. Lozano is Moveitfred's new bff.
Al used to be Moveitfred's bff. Al used to post pictures of his ass on the web too. Those were the days.
Sorry Johnny (and all you other readers who Moveitfred is sure have been pondering these questions and formulating answers), the prize for yesterday's quiz will be put back into storage until the next quiz.
Ok, so the answers to the July 18 quiz can be found at Mandy Lozano's blog.
Ms. Lozano has a curtain of hair, a bff named Cara, a modeling career, and a picture of her bruised, bare ass up on the web.
Ms. Lozano can also beat the crap out of all 3 bicoastal boys in a 1 vs 3 sprint.
Ms. Lozano is Moveitfred's new bff.
Al used to be Moveitfred's bff. Al used to post pictures of his ass on the web too. Those were the days.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Death Ride
First and foremost, Heywood would like to extend his apologies to the few but faithful readers of this magnificent blog for his lack of postings in recent weeks. With the family vacation which Moveitfred described so eloquently, work, and last minute training, he has been blogged down. So here it is.
Last January, Heywood Jablome got some wild hair up his ass and decided add his name to the lottery to the Death Ride. The whole time he was thinking “what are the fucking chances I will get picked anyway.” So Heywood entered his name and his credit card # (4774 5873 9969 8989) on the appropriate line and the registration was complete.
March rolls around and Mrs. Jablome notices an unusual $90 purchase on the monthly statement from the Credit Card Company. “Woody, what did you buy for me that was $90 and where is it?” Knowing full well he bought nothing for the wife, Heywood glanced at the bill and realized that he was screwed. Non-refundable. So his training started that day.
Fast forward a few months and the Death Ride is upon us. On Friday night, Heywood was invited to sleep in a friends RV parked in the dirt lot next to the staging area. Before arriving in Markleeville, CA, rumor was that no one goes to this event anymore because it was too crowded. They were right. One could hardly find a place to park a 40’ house on wheels. After getting settled in, a bunch of riders sat around the RV giving excuses why they may not complete all five passes. Folks, the ride hasn’t even started yet and y’all are spinning the wheel already. Come on. So after Heywood finish his six-pack of beer, he explained to everyone that he drank too much and that he was going to take it easy on Sa
turday. He then retired to bed.
#$&%%*^*^^%&. At 4:00am (0400 hrs for you military geeks) there was an awfully loud noise coming from the staging area. For some unexplained reason, the organizers of this event like to wake everybody up at 4:00am with extremely loud music.
At 5:30 am Heywood was on the road with bike under him. Monitor Pass was the first two passes to be conquered. The roads on this pass are perfect for a fast descent, allowing for speeds in the 50+ range for almost the entire back side. Next, ride to Ebbetts Pass for the tough third pass. There are a few sections reaching 18 percent causing instant chest pain in all but the most fit riders. The back side of Ebbetts was shorter and seemed to be the easiest of all the passes for Wood. Then, the hilly long ride over to Carson Pass.
Now Mrs. Jablome and Heywood arranged for the Mrs. to have a hearty sandwich waiting for Wood at the staging area. Wood would pick this up while riding past Turtle Rock Road while on the way to the last pass. So Heywood rode past the lunch stop and was salivating thinking of his lunch to come with the Mrs. While approaching Turtle Rock Road, the Mrs. flagged him down and handed him his sandwich. Big, thick tuna sandwich with mayo, cheese, and many more fixings. Only one problem. The Mrs. made this sandwich earlier in the day and decided to let it sit out in the 94 degree heat and rot. On his first bite, Heywood about puked. Nice try, but thanks. On to the final pass with no lunch. This meant that Wood bonked. It took a while but he finally finished Carson Pass. That’s right, ALL FIVE PASSES FOLKS! So there you have it.
Heywood’s friend Michael Rasmussen called him Saturday night to congratulate him on his fine accomplishment. Rasmussen asked for some advice for the next big stage so Wood gave him some tips. Eat early, eat often, and go for the win. Heywood Jablome hopes it works out for him on Sunday.
Last January, Heywood Jablome got some wild hair up his ass and decided add his name to the lottery to the Death Ride. The whole time he was thinking “what are the fucking chances I will get picked anyway.” So Heywood entered his name and his credit card # (4774 5873 9969 8989) on the appropriate line and the registration was complete.
March rolls around and Mrs. Jablome notices an unusual $90 purchase on the monthly statement from the Credit Card Company. “Woody, what did you buy for me that was $90 and where is it?” Knowing full well he bought nothing for the wife, Heywood glanced at the bill and realized that he was screwed. Non-refundable. So his training started that day.
Fast forward a few months and the Death Ride is upon us. On Friday night, Heywood was invited to sleep in a friends RV parked in the dirt lot next to the staging area. Before arriving in Markleeville, CA, rumor was that no one goes to this event anymore because it was too crowded. They were right. One could hardly find a place to park a 40’ house on wheels. After getting settled in, a bunch of riders sat around the RV giving excuses why they may not complete all five passes. Folks, the ride hasn’t even started yet and y’all are spinning the wheel already. Come on. So after Heywood finish his six-pack of beer, he explained to everyone that he drank too much and that he was going to take it easy on Sa
turday. He then retired to bed.#$&%%*^*^^%&. At 4:00am (0400 hrs for you military geeks) there was an awfully loud noise coming from the staging area. For some unexplained reason, the organizers of this event like to wake everybody up at 4:00am with extremely loud music.
At 5:30 am Heywood was on the road with bike under him. Monitor Pass was the first two passes to be conquered. The roads on this pass are perfect for a fast descent, allowing for speeds in the 50+ range for almost the entire back side. Next, ride to Ebbetts Pass for the tough third pass. There are a few sections reaching 18 percent causing instant chest pain in all but the most fit riders. The back side of Ebbetts was shorter and seemed to be the easiest of all the passes for Wood. Then, the hilly long ride over to Carson Pass.
Now Mrs. Jablome and Heywood arranged for the Mrs. to have a hearty sandwich waiting for Wood at the staging area. Wood would pick this up while riding past Turtle Rock Road while on the way to the last pass. So Heywood rode past the lunch stop and was salivating thinking of his lunch to come with the Mrs. While approaching Turtle Rock Road, the Mrs. flagged him down and handed him his sandwich. Big, thick tuna sandwich with mayo, cheese, and many more fixings. Only one problem. The Mrs. made this sandwich earlier in the day and decided to let it sit out in the 94 degree heat and rot. On his first bite, Heywood about puked. Nice try, but thanks. On to the final pass with no lunch. This meant that Wood bonked. It took a while but he finally finished Carson Pass. That’s right, ALL FIVE PASSES FOLKS! So there you have it.
Heywood’s friend Michael Rasmussen called him Saturday night to congratulate him on his fine accomplishment. Rasmussen asked for some advice for the next big stage so Wood gave him some tips. Eat early, eat often, and go for the win. Heywood Jablome hopes it works out for him on Sunday.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Etc.
Moveitfred taking a moment to both honor the greatest sporting event on the planet and fuel a recent theme on this pathetic blog.
Monday, July 9, 2007
urin-AL
Al Discusses Life, Liberty, the Pursuit of Happiness, and Fred's Fucking Small Bladder / Wicked Stage Fright
Another Monday has come, and I am glad for it. Monday = off day. Ahhh. I am one battered Al. I've raced and trained a lot over the last week or two. I've got those, just can't wait for the taper blues (those of you who play guitar may want to start your three chord progressions now).
But, enough about me. I'm really writing to talk about Fred. More specifically, Fred and his urophobia.
{What is Urophobia?
Defined as "a persistent, abnormal, and unwarranted fear of urine or urinating", each year this surprisingly common phobia causes countless people needless distress.
To add insult to an already distressing condition, most urophobia therapies take months or years and sometimes even require the patient to be exposed repeatedly to their fear. We believe that not only is this totally unnecessary, it will often make the condition worse. And it is particularly cruel as urophobia can be eliminated with the right methods and just 24 hours of commitment by the phobic individual.
Known by a number of names - Urophobia, Fear of Urine, and Fear of Urinating being the most common - the problem often significantly impacts the quality of life. It can cause panic attacks and keep people apart from loved ones and business associates. Symptoms typically include shortness of breath, rapid breathing, irregular heartbeat, sweating, nausea, and overall feelings of dread, although everyone experiences urophobia in their own way and may have different symptoms. Our treatment involves no drugs. }
I've suggested a
Treatment for Urophobia for Fred. He's so relieved, he's doing better already.
With this victory under my belt, I've moved on to a few other common issues that plague us. i've started a sort of advice column. Here's an excerpt:
Q: My husband wants a threesome with my best friend and me.
A: Obviously your husband cannot get enough of you! Knowing that there is only one of you he can only settle for the next best thing, your best friend. Far from being an issue, this can only bring you closer together. Why not get some of your old college roommates involved too? If you are still apprehensive.
Maybe you should let him be with your friends without you. If you're still not sure, just perform oral sex on him and cook him a nice meal while you think about it.
~~
Q: My husband continually asks me to perform oral sex on him.
A: Do it! Semen can help you lose weight and gives a great glow to your skin. Interestingly, men know this. His offer to allow you to perform oral sex on him is totally selfless. This shows he loves you. The best thing to do is to thank him by performing it twice a day; then cook him a nice meal.
~~
Q: My husband has too many nights out with the boys.
A: This is perfectly natural behaviour and it should be encouraged. The man is a hunter and he needs to prove his prowness with other men. A night out chasing young single girls is great stress relief and can foster a more peaceful
and relaxing home. Remember, nothing can rekindle your relationship better than the man being away for a day or two (it's a great time to clean the house too!). Just look at how emotional and happy he is when he returns to his stable home. The best thing to do when he returns home is for you and your best friend to perform oral sex on him; then cook him a nice meal.
~~
Q: My husband doesn't know where my clitoris is.
A: Your clitoris is of no concern to your husband. If you must mess with it, do it in your own time or ask your best friend to help. You may wish to videotape yourself while doing this, and present it to your husband as a birthday gift. To ease your selfish guilt, perform oral sex on him and cook him a nice meal.
~~
Q: My husband is uninterested in foreplay.
A: You are a bad person for bringing it up and should seek sensitivity training. Foreplay to a man is very stressful and time consuming. Sex should be available to your husband on demand with no pesky requests for foreplay. What this means is that you do not love your man as much as you should; he
should never have to work to get you in the mood. Stop being so selfish! Perhaps you can make it up to him by performing oral sex on him and cooking him a nice meal.
~~
Q: My husband always has an orgasm then rolls over and goes to sleep without giving me one.
A: I'm not sure I understand the problem. Perhaps you've forgotten to cook him a nice meal.
Another Monday has come, and I am glad for it. Monday = off day. Ahhh. I am one battered Al. I've raced and trained a lot over the last week or two. I've got those, just can't wait for the taper blues (those of you who play guitar may want to start your three chord progressions now).
But, enough about me. I'm really writing to talk about Fred. More specifically, Fred and his urophobia.
{What is Urophobia?
Defined as "a persistent, abnormal, and unwarranted fear of urine or urinating", each year this surprisingly common phobia causes countless people needless distress.
To add insult to an already distressing condition, most urophobia therapies take months or years and sometimes even require the patient to be exposed repeatedly to their fear. We believe that not only is this totally unnecessary, it will often make the condition worse. And it is particularly cruel as urophobia can be eliminated with the right methods and just 24 hours of commitment by the phobic individual.
Known by a number of names - Urophobia, Fear of Urine, and Fear of Urinating being the most common - the problem often significantly impacts the quality of life. It can cause panic attacks and keep people apart from loved ones and business associates. Symptoms typically include shortness of breath, rapid breathing, irregular heartbeat, sweating, nausea, and overall feelings of dread, although everyone experiences urophobia in their own way and may have different symptoms. Our treatment involves no drugs. }
I've suggested a
Treatment for Urophobia for Fred. He's so relieved, he's doing better already.
With this victory under my belt, I've moved on to a few other common issues that plague us. i've started a sort of advice column. Here's an excerpt:
Q: My husband wants a threesome with my best friend and me.
A: Obviously your husband cannot get enough of you! Knowing that there is only one of you he can only settle for the next best thing, your best friend. Far from being an issue, this can only bring you closer together. Why not get some of your old college roommates involved too? If you are still apprehensive.
Maybe you should let him be with your friends without you. If you're still not sure, just perform oral sex on him and cook him a nice meal while you think about it.
~~
Q: My husband continually asks me to perform oral sex on him.
A: Do it! Semen can help you lose weight and gives a great glow to your skin. Interestingly, men know this. His offer to allow you to perform oral sex on him is totally selfless. This shows he loves you. The best thing to do is to thank him by performing it twice a day; then cook him a nice meal.
~~
Q: My husband has too many nights out with the boys.
A: This is perfectly natural behaviour and it should be encouraged. The man is a hunter and he needs to prove his prowness with other men. A night out chasing young single girls is great stress relief and can foster a more peaceful
and relaxing home. Remember, nothing can rekindle your relationship better than the man being away for a day or two (it's a great time to clean the house too!). Just look at how emotional and happy he is when he returns to his stable home. The best thing to do when he returns home is for you and your best friend to perform oral sex on him; then cook him a nice meal.
~~
Q: My husband doesn't know where my clitoris is.
A: Your clitoris is of no concern to your husband. If you must mess with it, do it in your own time or ask your best friend to help. You may wish to videotape yourself while doing this, and present it to your husband as a birthday gift. To ease your selfish guilt, perform oral sex on him and cook him a nice meal.
~~
Q: My husband is uninterested in foreplay.
A: You are a bad person for bringing it up and should seek sensitivity training. Foreplay to a man is very stressful and time consuming. Sex should be available to your husband on demand with no pesky requests for foreplay. What this means is that you do not love your man as much as you should; he
should never have to work to get you in the mood. Stop being so selfish! Perhaps you can make it up to him by performing oral sex on him and cooking him a nice meal.
~~
Q: My husband always has an orgasm then rolls over and goes to sleep without giving me one.
A: I'm not sure I understand the problem. Perhaps you've forgotten to cook him a nice meal.
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