This is what happens after bicycling when you're 32, out of shape, and it's getting to be the end of the day.
Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The shadow knows....
Rollin' on my bike!
PEDAL, Mutha effer!!!! PEDAL!!!!
A better picture of Dinner En Route from KFC! Dad and I deliver! (Burp!)
Dinner from Friday Night!
Sargie lives in our kitchen. Usually under the table in an ol' school shopping bag. (aka paper)
Somebody cleaned up the actual kitchen table, and now she likes to hang out there. It's not bad for a cat that's as old as she. (think late 80's) If you're a good human, you'll give her some nifty cheese/hotdog slices/misc meat/any yummy mix of food.
And, after. The Lawnmower still runs. Just starting it is hard enough.
Show of hands....How many of you have a car in your back yard? How many have more than one? Running or not, it don't matter.
Barry who? For some reason, all these strobe lights came on when he stepped up to the plate. Too bad he was the last out in the 9th. :)
Ah, happiness. What better way to do that bachler party thang? Beer? Check. A's Game? Check. Friends and Fun? Check. Strippers? Uh....What happens in the skybox, stays in the sky box.
If you bring Ed along, he'll always set you straight on how good the Giants are compared to the Oakland A's.
I've never been to a game with such great seats. Even I could tell where the strike zone is. Sure, you had to stand up and look down the windows to see if they caught the pop flies, but STILL great seats!
Just sittin' here at work, waiting for the Dual 2.0 G5 to render out Tri-Valley Sports Final for TV30.
I can see for miles and miles. This Shell station has just the best view. And a Jack N da Box too.
Yeah, I can't read it either. Friggin' vandals/pissed off customers. Scratchin' up the pumps. (It WAS like it when I got there. I'm not that kind of guy)
Chis Kypreos is a reporter for TV30. Or at least he used to be. Here he is on his last day, less then 10 min before the 4pm news. Texting away on his cell. Seated at the Teleprompter PC.
