The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Attn: Ellen (5/24/17)

Front

Ellen310a

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

Ellen310b

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if you were a Cleveland Cavaliers fan and you’re at a game and the crowd gets into it and starts chanting but you mess up royally and start chanting “let’s go calves.”

The stuff of nightmares.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com OR
@DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

Recently my wife and I got a letter from the HOA – our weed situation was apparently situation critical.

The letter stated, among other things, that rock beds must be free of weeds at all times. What.

I’m not going to lie, I really needed to go out and pick some weeds in the rock bed area in front of our house. In fact, I already had it on my to do list. But apparently one neighbor (we have our theories) found my pace of weed killing to be lax, so we were told on.

This really annoyed me … Possibly partially because I knew it was bad, but this just emphasized it. But also because, FREE OF WEEDS AT ALL TIMES?

The letter told me if I would not comply by X date then blah blah blah, serious sounding consequences. It also stated that I could submit a plan to the board for their discussion and approval.

This triggered a 13 year old desire to be a real jerk for no other reason than because I was feeling feisty. In the end, I began picking weeds the next day and have been tackling the whole yard one piece at a time. But, for my own pent up juvenile aggression, I would like to go ahead and respond to the HOA.

The title is one idea that I thought would be funny – go to the board in person and ask that question sincerely. Wouldn’t that be fun?

Here’s another idea:

Dear HOA,

Thank you for your recent letter about the dire weed situation. I have taken this under advisement, sought council, prayed, reflected, even sacrificed a small goat, and I have come up with a plan.

First of all, quick aside, do goat carcasses go in the green waste bin, or the regular trash bin? Surely they’re not recyclable?
  • Monday – pull one weed
  • Friday – check on the yard, see if the other weeds have gotten the message
  • (Possibly done at this point?)
  • Sunday – visit the one dead weed’s grave, leave some flowers
  • Following Monday – pull a different weed (although again, I must stress, I don’t think any of this will be necessary)
  • Following Friday – neighborhood BBQ! (You guys are totally invited! I just found a sweet looking BBQ shrimp recipe!)
  • Following Sunday – douse the rock bed area in gasoline, light it on fire

Please let me know if this will sufficiently kill the weeds, I imagine the fire will do the trick. I’ll make sure to have not one but two extinguishers on hand in case it gets out of hand. 

Thank you in advance.

DumbFunnery, homeowner

Canadian Goose

DSC_0036

French Canadian Goose

french canadian goose

Frankly I blame you for not seeing this joke coming.

Attn: Ellen (5/17/17)

Front

Ellen309a

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

Ellen309b

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

I don’t know much about hockey, but I do like watching it.

With the playoffs going, I like to watch and make up fake slang to impress my wife.

“Oh yah, well he leaked the net real nice, basically re-doing the whole upholstery and all he’s got to show for it is a horse-sized vitamin, ya know?”

Neat, huh?

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com OR
@DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

Race Recap

This past weekend I did my second trail race, and it was not terribly fun. I’m glad I did it, and it was educational, but boy was it painful.

Here are a few moments/thoughts from the run:

  • On Trails vs Roads

Until moving to Colorado I only did road runs. These are very different, and I feel like I still haven’t fully appreciated how different. With roads I could get away with some bad habits: if I started too fast, some days I got away with it because I was just in a groove and I could end up faster than anticipated the whole time (see: every time I have PR’d), AND I could get away with not eating or drinking enough to replenish myself because I wasn’t out there that long …

For trails, neither of those work out well. My last training run that was good was 15 miles, and the last few miles of that my stomach felt very off. But, it was short enough and I had enough to eat and drink during the run that I got away with it. 15+ led to uncomfortable woes.

At the run on Saturday, a 25 miler, I hit my usual woes at mile 11 or 12, but this time I was in the middle of a 2 or 3 mile uphill climb. I should have sat down at the aid station at mile 6 and eaten more, and ditto the aid station at mile 10. But instead, I left 10 feeling good only to quickly go to: NOT GOOD status.

Thankfully the run boasted beautiful views, challenge galore, and friendly fellow runners. A woman asked me how I was doing, so I told her, and she and I walked together for a while and she informed me I wasn’t eating enough. She gave me a packet of goo (sounds weird, huh?) which was 100 calories of goodness. The trouble was, I think I had jumped on the eating enough bandwagon pretty late in the game and it was a struggle every time I tried to eat.

Lesson learned? Eat more, eat more sooner, eat more.

  • On Emotions

I ran a half marathon one time which was tough because it was very cold, raining, and I had been injured so I hadn’t trained up very well. The weekend prior I had flown to Arizona because my grandfather had passed away.

I crossed the finish line and immediately had to fight back tears. I was very confused by this, but then the fact that I was about to start crying and I was so cold my lips were blue and I was surrounded by strangers made me laugh at the absurd situation – it was odd. But, I realized later, the running probably took a lot out of me so I was more emotional.

Videos of dogs and soldiers make me want to cry, sappy things like that, but ordinarily it’s pretty rare that things will inspire tears. At the run, around mile 12 when I was feeling quite bad, I wondered if I would need to drop from the race … I thought about having 13 miles to go and it made me want to cry. I thought, “THE HELL? Who is this emotional demon who has invaded my body!?”

At around mile 23.5 I had already seen the finish in the distance. It was all downhill from where I was … not like, getting worse … but as in literally going down a hill. Anywho, I heard the crowd go nuts over someone finishing and again those pesky weakened body state inspired emotions popped up and I thought to myself, “wow, they’re cheering for some random person like every person is the winner.” And boom, the desire to cry was there.

(P.S. There was another group of true insano-s running FIFTY miles. They started 2.5 hours earlier than us 25 mile plebes, and it could be that the crowd WAS actually cheering for the first place 50 mile female finisher. That is one fast person.)

  • On Aid Station Snacks

Here are some things I had while jogging: pretzel bites, m&ms, some salted caramel goo (thank you again kind stranger), granola bar, lots of water with powdered stuff in it, grapes, and coke.

Ordinarily the menu of a coder (minus the workout goo) … but looking at that now, yeah, I definitely didn’t have enough calories. I was out there a bit over 7 hours, which meant I should’ve had lets say 1400 calories, I maybe got half that.

Mistakes were made.

  • On Friendly People

You know what was awesome throughout? How friendly everyone was, almost everyone there is not competing, they’re just wanting to finish. But even the fastest people were probably friendly too, I just never saw them.

The 50 milers went 25 one way, then 25 going the other way so us 25ers saw them rush past us. With almost every one of them I exchanged a pleasant, “good job” or “looking good” or when tired it was shortened to just “job.” The first place guy I just stared at because HOW ARE YOU GOING THIS FAST?

I ended up jogging/walking for a good while around the same people. One girl, graduating today (Sunday), who walked by a sign indicating we had 3.5 miles or so to go and she looked back at me and said the saddest ‘yay’ I’ve ever heard. It was hysterical.

Another girl I talked with after the run, she was friendly, smart, and I noticed she does not believe in shaving arm pits.

One guy, with about one mile to go, was going back and forth with me (passing each other) then we stopped and walked and he said, “we’ll finish together.” I said ok, cool. But then a half mile or so later he said, “ok, I need to stop, I don’t feel good.” He finished a few minutes after me, and we chit chatted after the run.

The volunteers at the aid stations were all friendly, weird, encouraging, helpful, and with an energy that my then tired brain could not comprehend. Plus, the snacks they had made were (presumably) amazing … snacks that, again, I should’ve eaten.

IMG_1427

Attn: Ellen (5/10/17)

Front

Ellen308a

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

Ellen308b

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

After a brief but very enjoyable weekend in Bend, Oregon I have decided that people who live in Oregon who don’t believe in Big Foot are the weirdos.

Seriously. Those trees there are other-worldly. Hopefully I’ll get to visit again soon.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com OR @DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

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