Every year about this time, when the Tour de France rolls around, I am inspired by the incomparable Lance Armstrong, and I get the urge to fix up my bike and start riding again. Well, I was going to do that yesterday, then I fell asleep for a nap, and just never did. So this year, instead of the usual, I've decided to try something a little different. Inspired by Lance, I will attempt to duplicate one of his greatest feats by also dating a cute, famous pop star myself. Seriously though, I am gonna try to fix up my bike some this week.
I tell you one thing I like about that Pac-10 Conference, while we're on the subject. They're hanging in there with those ten teams. You know they've seen the expansion of the ACC and the SEC. You know they've seen the Big 8 expand to the Big 12 and the Big 10 add an eleventh team (even though it still calls itself the Big 10). Nevertheless, the good old Pacific Ten is sticking with those original ten.
Do you ever wonder who buys the "middle" gas? You know, you have your regular unleaded. Then about ten cents higher is the plus grade or whatever it's called, and ten cents higher than that is the premium. Now, I always buy the regular because it's cheapest. I mean, I'm already giving an arm and a leg for gasoline, and buying premium to me is like saying, "Oh, here, go ahead and take one of my kidneys as well." But I suppose I can understand people buying premium, because they want to get (what is supposedly) the best quality gasoline for their vehicle. But who is buying this plus, middle-grade gasoline? And why? You want something a little better than regular, but not too good? I don't understand.
Well, Jessica and I went to dinner last night at the posh Tony's Country Cookin' (home of the fried green tomatoes). Seriouslah, that's what their sign says. It reminded me a little of Mel's Diner on Alice, except there was no Mel-like guy cooking. Watched a couple of Seinfelds last night, The Movie and The Visa. I love when Jerry is trying to be not funny in The Visa, because George doesn't want Cheryl to like him better than she likes George:
"Birthdays are merely symbolic of how another year has gone by and how little we've grown. No matter how desperate we are that someday a better self will emerge, with each flicker of the candles on the cake, we know it's not to be. That for the rest of our sad, wretched, pathetic lives, this is who we are to the bitter end, inevitably, irrevocably. Happy birthday? No such thing." ROFL
"It may be raining, but there's a rainbow above you. You better let somebody love you. You better let somebody love you, before it's too late..."