Single page view By The Intern
Page 2

People are idiots; they see religious figures in pieces of toast (see eBay), question the existence of dinosaurs (see Carl Everett), and declare war on psychiatry (you know who). But for all their raving lunacy, each of these nut-jobs is saner than me.

Why? Because I moronically tried to run a 10K race yesterday on absolutely no preparation after being enraged by a friend's casual taunting. The conversation went something like this:

"Friend": "Kevin, I've got an extra number for the Peachtree [Road Race]. You're running."

Me: "Three days from now? I can't remember the last time I went running. Now leave me alone; I'm busy watching full seasons of television shows on DVD."

"Friend": "And you call yourself an athlete ... You disappoint me on so many levels."

Me: "(expletive) YOU! I'm in."

Honestly, that was all it took. Suddenly I was convinced that an obscene amount of pasta and ultimate hydration would make up for months of near-atrophy. I'm like Marty McFly, but so much worse -- instead of just "chicken" sending me over the edge, it's pretty much any athletic challenge whatsoever. I once tried to hop on one leg for half-a-mile, all because I stubbornly refused to back down from a ridiculous argument. Not only did I lose the bet (obviously), but most likely my remaining dignity, since this took place less than a year ago and in broad daylight.

And so as I sit here now with the type of Jell-O-legged soreness that can only come from something as asinine as trying to run six miles cold, I wonder if it was at all worth it, whether my impulsive irrationality accomplished anything whatsoever. The answer, of course, is a resounding "HELL YEAH!" -- I won a make-believe battle in my head, which we all know is priceless. -- Detailed account of the Boston College men's basketball team's recent off-court troubles. Or, as Simmons says, "Reason No. 337 why you should send your kids to Holy Cross over BC." (Rob B.) -- This glorious 1980's Carl Lewis video leaves me with so many questions: How could we have ever questioned this man's sexuality? Why didn't Carl become the biggest pop singer in the world? What was the intended symbolism of the old woman blowing bubbles? Did this director ever work again? (Colin M., Vancouver, BC) -- Somewhere in Los Angeles, my boss nods his head fervently. -- Absurd recount of the Wife-Carrying World Championships. Throw in a double-take inducing picture of the "Estonian Carry," and an all-too-serious family legacy of wife-carrying dominance, and you have a can't-miss link. (Chris S., Tuckahoe, NY) -- Behind the scenes look at Live 8. Other than any mention of Slash, the best part of this recap has to be the blurb on how Will Smith's drumline decided to keep the beats going even after they left the stage (while presumably trailing Will as he moseyed around). In a perfect world, every entrance I make would be accompanied by a drumline procession. Sometimes I would walk into rooms only to walk right back out, just so that everyone could experience my drumline. I would be super-important. And I would wear a cape.


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