It's pretty depressing that all the exercise I'm getting is the spontaneous attack dance parties that happen every so often in my kitchen. I'll be doing some mindless chore, when a song comes on and it's like a catalyst. I'm attacked by two small urchins who lurk until some secret sign and then pounce, forcing me to dance. What's really sad is that I'm totally winded after one song and gasping for air. They show no mercy though, and I usually can't run them off until after song four.
Here's the song that started it up today. (One of my favorites, so I can't complain too much.)
On a completely different note, sad reality whomps me right in the gut when I read in the items the soldiers request on anysoldier.com things like Clearasil, or other acne preventing medicine. These guys are so young out in Iraq and Afghanistan. Nineteen and twenty years old. I think back to what I was doing at that age and it was definitely nothing like they are.
Somewhere over the random
1 hour ago