World Cup commences this weekend. As per tradition in the Holcomb household for the next month the hubster will be in communicado. He’s going to Huntsville this weekend to watch the US vs. England game with some of his friends. I’m wondering if I should just buy a crate of high blood pressure and cholesterol lowering drugs now or wait until he has the stroke. It’s going to be nothing but ribs and wings all weekend. You’d think grown men in their 40s would know better. This poster is very pretty, unfortunately the World Cup has the second ugliest trophy in all sports. Who has the ugliest? Hand’s down it’s the Stanley Cup. What were they thinking. It looks like a pupa laying an egg.
The Stanley Cup looks like they didn’t have a trophy so decided to stack a bunch of pots together. Sad. Yeah, I know it’s blasphemy, but I’m all about the aesthetics. These damned sports are two of the hardest on the planet, why the hell do they get rewarded with such ugly crap? Of course, it could be worse, they could get one of those gaudy-as-hell Superbowl rings.
We’ve reached the time of the year when it’s much too hot for me to walk outdoors, so I’m scouring around for some way to get my workout in. I tried just doing a fitness video, unfortunately the Luke won’t leave me the hell alone long enough to get through it. When I walk I have to take him with me, which is frankly dangerous because for reasons I’ll never understand suburban Atlanta suburbs have no sidewalks.
Gym memberships around here, even the Y are too expensive. I wish there was a church or something with an indoor walking track, but thus far I haven’t found one that’s free. So starting tomorrow I’ve got to get up at oh dark thirty to go walking. This is so not my style. God I hate summer.