Work it Out

Not much to report. I go to the gym (shirts optional), do the yoga (no shirt, sweating all over everything, repping the handstands in the middle of the room because handstands = enlightenment are awesome even if you suck at yoga like I do), push paper at the job (shirts required, unless I'm working late at the crib, in which case: no shirt, PANTS OPTIONAL). You care.

The crossfit gym peeps give me a hard time because I never wear a shirt with sleeves when I work out. Ever. Comments include: Do you own a shirt with sleeves? (Me: No.)
And: Suns out guns out in the dead of winter, Case? (Me: Fuckin' A!)

So my workout clothes are an ugly mashup of shirts with the sleeves cut off and boardshorts designed by an artistic savant with inconsistent pattern recognition. They're so bad/good that my last girlfriend*, who I came to know at yoga and had never seen me in street clothes, thought I was color blind. True story.

Unrelated news: The following was on Grantland and described as if Coldplay and Toto had a love child, which they didn't think was good. I disagreed. Toto is rad! The video sucks but whatever. Hit play and then Ctrl + T, bitches. You know you want to.

Enjoy(?).





* We haven't talked about it in this space, but for the handful of family members that care: Ambra and I broke up in January. It was her decision. I didn't mention it because losing her and Reese is not an easy thing to talk about. It still isn't. I can't say I have good days and bad days - none of the days are good, but some are less bad than others Long-time readers will recognize a shift in tone over the past couple months. That's why. Okay let's get back to what I'm good at (anonymous and judgmental negative bitching, mostly).