A True Challenge

This past weekend was superlative. The first order of business was the Pun Off. Man, if you live in Austin and you love clever wordplay yet don't go to the Pun Off every year, then you need to seriously examine the universe and your place in it. I didn't enter; Zyvarb and I thought about it and threw some ideas around, but laziness and my own personal fear of being judged over my puns got in our way. See, the Pun Off is an event where it'd be great to win, but really unpleasant to lose, as I'd then officially be an unsuccessful competitive punster. (Shout out to Eirik Ott, who won last year and should've won again this year.)

We hit the Comal River afterwards for the first tubing trip of the year. Thanks to jello shot barf patrol weinerbiscuits, lots of onerous rules have been imposed on us simple river folk. Large coolers are forbidden and river loitering is frowned upon. We tried to use our knowledge of oceanography to dodge that last rule, blaming our slow pace on tidal forces, but we were not successful. My prediction for these rules: the folks responsible for stirring all of this trouble up will never go back to the Comal, thus forcing the city police to install these rules on another river, which will cause the culprits to go to yet another river, etc. Eventually, anyone who goes near a river in Texas will be shot on sight. Avoid this fate, rivergoers!

After years of loyal iPod use, my 80GB-er pulled a Mama Cass on me and asphyxiated on a digital ham sandwich. While I'm waiting for it to get back from the Apple shop, I'm using my old 20GB-er. I had that for a couple of years, up until this past Christmas. It's kind of interesting to scroll through it now and think, "I actually listened to this crap six months ago?!" For some reason, historical musical taste is way more embarrassing than anything else form one's past. Example: would you rather be known as the guy who crossdressed for a week, or the guy who loved Toby Keith for a week? (I should note that if you combine the two and crossdress to impress Toby Keith, it becomes strangely remarkable.)

I've mentioned on here how Laura and I are doing these weekly challenges. Last week's was to hit the gym 4 times. Despite being half way there after 2 days, I didn't manage to accomplish this. (I did do other physically strenuous things such as walk, breathe, and go to the bathroom.)

For this week, we're trying not to use any profanity. For me, this is much, much harder than the gym thing. I'm not addicted to the f word or anything, but it is a fun way to talk. It's easy to make your point and wow your audience when you start dropping some expletives, as long as you're not talking to old ladies, police officers, or old lady police officers. So far, I've only slipped twice. Once, I called Visual Studio the b word, and then later on, I was vocalizing the dog's thoughts and I referred to dog food as a separate b word. Prediction: this will be 168 hours of mudderflapping agony.