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September 6, 2018

My Going Rates

Google kept asking me to review places I've been, so I finally gave in. I'm a sucker for peer pressure. 
Costco:
It was right before they got rid of my swirl frogurt. I still haven't forgiven them.
The roller coaster at Kennywood amusement park:
On the way to our beach vacation:
 An oil change:
They still haven't vacuumed the car.
Fast food stop at the beach: 

Oh "Henry"

I'm sick of these emails:
You can't bullshit a bullshitter, 'Henry'.

 I'm starting to question his medical credentials.
Let's see him figure this out on Google Translate.


Super Flying Zach

Zach and I have been going to the pool lately to get some cardio. Ten months of breast milk has given him thunder thighs, so it's time to start working it off.

Our exercises are pretty much just me walking back and forth in the shallow end with him gliding on the water. He looks like he's flying, so I sing a song I made up called "Super Flying Zach" about a Zach who patrols the sky.

It goes:
Super Flying Zach is coming to get 'cha!
It's Super Flying Zach, so you better be good!
He's going to make sure ___(fill in the blank with what he needs to police)
It's Super Flying Zach, and he's coming to get 'cha,
Super Flying Zach, SO YOU BETTER BE GOOD!

For the blanks I say stuff like:
He's going to make sure you help old ladies across the street.
He's going to make sure you clean up your dog's poop.
He's going to make sure you don't run red lights.

After walking back and forth and singing this for a half hour, I started to run out of ideas and came up with stuff like:

He's going to make sure you don't pull down any bikini tops.
He's going to make sure you don't steal cabbage from a locked community garden.
He's going to make sure you don't talk about coprophagia with children present. 

That last one was based on a true story. Last Sunday we were doing our water exercises, and there were a bunch of thirty somethings at the other end of the pool, talking about someone they know who knows someone who eats poop. They knew I was listening because each time they couldn't think of a word, I yelled it across the pool. Like when the token broad said, "You know that thing where you get dizzy easily, I forget the word..." and I yelled, "VERTIGO!" And later a tattooed guy with poor grammar was describing a restaurant near Walmart, and I yelled, "CRACKER BARREL." 

When we waved and said goodbye, they looked at me confusedly. My feelings were a little sore from their unfriendliness until I reminded myself that people who talk about eating doody in front of others probably haven't learned the best social skills. 
I brought my own shark to the water.