Another loud voice in the Internet wilderness

This is really nitpicking but its annoying the shit out of me and since I called this blog Rodneyrants, I’m gonna do just that and rail on against something that’s been getting on my nerves.

There’s this feature on facebook which encourages you to “reconnect” and “share the news” with your FB buddies.  However sometimes it gets ridiculous. For example :

Click on the picture and look at the rectangle on the right....

Click on the picture and zoom in on the rectangle on the right. See that guy? That’s my boy Renso.  What’s my problem with him? Nothing. He’s a righteous dude and one cool ass cat. But why would I “reconnect” with someone who I see every fucking day on my block? This happens with quite a few people I know.

Now I understand there’s no way for Facebook to know that, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. Now mind you I have more important things on my plate like getting  a job, getting in shape and staying alive long enough to vote against Sarah Palin should she ever get nominated for President.  But I had to get that off my chest and also write something new that doesn’t involve Lady GaGa’s insane ass.

Disaster in the making

It’s finally happened. The King -NO- Emperor of the couch potatoes has finally hit the gym. It’s been about two weeks of just about every other day trots on the treadmill. I have not hit the weights just yet.  I was compelled to get started after a lecture by my 90 yr old Doctor.  Doctor Ward is an Uptown legend , having practiced medicine for 50 years. So I kinda think he knows what he’s talking about.

“You gotta lose this doc” he said while pinching afoot of fat from my midsection

“But I’ve been going to the gym doc !” I replied (lying my ass off)

“Ya gotta stop this” – And he pointed to his mouth and made a zip it motion.

Now I had previously made some concessions to my health – changing my diet, cutting out late night snacks, cutting back on the alcohol -but the thought of lying to this man really got to me. How fucking sad are you? my inner voice said. Mind you this is the same inner voice that has carried me through many nights of mayhem in Vegas and other shenanigans which shall go unrepeated.

“Go ahead have another, what’s 10 Jack and Cokes?”

“I wonder how this nacho cheese dip will taste on that Bacon Double Cheeseburger?”

“There’s not enough butter on these Chicken Wings”

You get the idea.  I concluded no matter how much fish, chicken and rabbit food I ate, I was not going to improve my health without exercise. That and the young bucks on my block had challenged the OG’s on the block to a softball game.  So I after previously making a couple of half-hearted attempts, I started going the gym I joined last year and made MANY excuses not to go to. I’ve been doing a half hour a day on the treadmill, slowly building up the pace each day. The last couple of visits I’ve tried the elliptical machine, something I’m sure Satan uses downstairs along with the pitchfork. It’s going to take awhile before I’m rocking the Red Speedos again but as I said to someone last week, “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

This is how I imagine myself while in the gym

What I probably look like in the gym