MacGyver and I watched a documentary on Netflix called What the Health. Since I’m already shit out of luck when it comes to what I can and can’t eat, I was hesitant to watch it. I mean, let’s factor in that I cannot eat anything with soy, gluten or dairy and I limit most night shades, my diet is bit limited.
After watching that documentary I should be dead of starvation in about a week, unless I can subsist on garbanzo beans and oranges, without getting sick of them.
Remember how I said that I just wasn’t feeling much like running and I was scaling it back a bit? Well, that’s what I’ve been doing. Some days I run, some days I walk, and most days I’ve been keeping it between 3-5 miles. It’s obviously been good for me because this morning I ran an 8:58 mile and it was balls hot out. Go me.
Not to mention the fact that when I finished and I looked down to see my final time, this was my speed:
Yeah, damn straight, I’m tootin my own horn today.
The other night MacGyver and I were on the dock with Hank feeding our turtles. We’ve been feeding them the organic dog treats that we bought for Hank last month that he absolutely hated and refused to eat, most likely because I paid 12 bucks for them. He prefers the cancer causing variety 1.99 version from the grocery store.
Anyway, after I fed 3/4’s of the bag to the turtles guess who decided they were the best treats in the entire fucking world?
Every time one of the turtles came up to get a bite instead of his usual happy little self, the little shit barked and snarled at the sweet turtles. He’s a spoiled brat and obviously, I just love him to death.
Because why else, wtf, it’s Wednesday?