For those of you keeping score at home, I had this running blog on Friday called “Fried-Day” where I just spew thoughts in a blog with no particular rhyme or reason. Long story short, posting one blog per day is more difficult than reading them so I might just axe the idea and make that style of writing a reoccurring theme. In other words, here’s your Fried-Day: Tuesday Edition.
For perspective, I didn’t sleep well last night and everyone knows for an athlete such as myself to compete at the world class level that I do, I need proper rest. I told myself I wouldn’t drink until the Barstool audition. It’s been a full seven days so far and I’ve successfully managed to only put down 2 beers since. It’s a fucking start I guess.
The first thing I noticed when you don’t drink is that you start spending more time on stupid shit like your health and career. It’s a wild thing. Out of nowhere, I’ve started to care about how I look so I’ve started this whole “no cheese” diet lately, which sucks because a “no cheese” diet eliminates roughly 85% of the stuff I currently eat, most importantly being cheese.
I ordered a hamburger with a lettuce bun yesterday and it rolled off my tongue in the weirdest way possible. I might as well have ripped my dick off and threw it on the table. It’s only a matter of time before I start ordering salads and preaching the benefits of yoga and wheat grass at social outings. I’m considering funneling one Natty Ice before bed every night to keep me on the sane side of the spectrum. The last thing I want is to flood everyone’s news feeds with me “setting my personal best on the squat rack.” Nobody gives a fuck that you set a personal best on the squat rack. The reason I go on Facebook is to shamelessly post my narcissistic thoughts/achievements, not watch yours…
So yeah, I finish eating this hamburger w/lettuce bun like some undergrad cuck and retire myself to the restroom. While I’m in the stall, some guy attempts to open the door, only to fail due to the fact I locked it (because, you know, I’m using it). After 4-5 attempts to breach the door, I finally realized I needed to vocally confirm that the stall was occupied with a “Hey man, I’m in here.” The guy apologized and went to the next stall, which conveniently was open the entire time.
For the record, this happens way too often. In all honestly, if you’re looking for a stall in the bathroom, there’s no excuse as to why you need to jiggle the door handle more than once. If someone’s in there, they’re in there. Locks are made for a reason and when a door is locked, it means the person on the other side doesn’t want you to enter. What’s the over/under on how many jiggles required to identify if a door is locked? If you’re someone who thinks more than 2, then you might as well die of bird flu.