Just now when I signed in to this sucker it told me I'd posted 190 times. That's a LOT of wasted time! I think I started like 14 months ago? So about every other day for the last year and change, I've wasted time on this beyotch.
We're cheering oil going back under $130 a barrel. This whole thing makes you want to fire up the bong, get stoned to the bone and just forget about the whole deal. In the Black corner we have big oil, desperate to reassure the world that we aren't about to run out of the stuff, equally desperate to wring every last nickel out of the world while they still can, and stuck between the dead ends of investing in ever further diminishing returns or just watching the clock run out before screaming "Yachtzee," cutting the nipples out of their t-shirts and running around like the Brown Sailing Team. That was one of the biggest run on sentences and non-sequitors ever, this I know. For those of you who are keen observers of the America's Cup, you have Geordy Shaver, the voice of this last Cup, to thank for that bit of shenanigans. He's a funny freaking mo-fo. His wife was the first girl I ever kissed. My wife was probably born when that happened, but not by much. That makes me sound like Kinko the Kid Loving Clown.
Okay back from camp. In the Green but turning Red camp, we have big investment - Milo Minderbender, Officer In Chief. They rally themselves when oil goes down, but oil goes down only when they sufficently flagellate themselves to the point of making big oil believe they've finally killed themselves off. The world writes them off for dead, they party likes it's 1999, then big oil comes and smacks them in the face.
In brown trunks is big government. Though their trunks are brown, they have big boxing gloves. You see, in times of stress, the rest of the world buys their IOU's as a safe haven ("Don't worry - we've got IOU's for everything. Ohh, you might want to hang onto that one - it's for the Lamborghini!"), but when you loan them money for 10 years, they get to decide just how much the money with which they pay you back will be worth.
Big housing is in the dirt colored corner. They're just completely flayed. Mortgages, housing starts, the whole nut. Everything's fucked here, dude. This one I know first hand - there are an awful lot of subcontractor's guys who are walking off of our site with a shiny pink slip in hand when they finish what they've done for us. The real good guys are able to stay in the game - nothing lasts forever and skilled labor doesn't grow on trees - but the chaff and, unfortunately, a lot of developing talent is going down the banana highway.
I don't even know what to make of it all.
Tomorrow I get poked and prodded and have lots of pretty pictures taken of my bones and discover just when exactly I get to trade my crutches in on a Don the Magic Juan signature edition pimp cane.
At some point I'm going to have to come clean with the physio and tell her what I've been up to. She thinks I'm doing these mamby pamby little routines, meantime I've worked my way back to doing pretty significant workouts on the spinning bike. I'm also doing a ton of core work and have signed up for the handbike world championships in October. Could there be a rainbow sweatband in my future? But seriously, the body of knowledge should probably be aware that working a lot harder than they've told me to has produced significant acceleration in the recovery schedule. My knee flexibility is about 30 degrees more than it "should be" at this time - I can very nearly grab my ankle behind my back. My ankle flexibility is 100%. This wouldn't have happened without getting on the bike and making it happen. And to think, when Jay Moglia said I'd be crutching my ass to the trainer to get a workout in, I thought he was smoking dust.
More time wasted. Oh yeah, and because of all this doctor stuff tomorrow I get the day off from work which means I'll be glued to Versus live coverage of the Tour tomorrow. HAH HAH!