g — 4 miles (12:45) on the jackalope. The best thing about running 4 miles is that i can have as much chicken fricassee as I want, as long as I haven’t eaten four slices of apple pie in the last 12 hours, which I have, and if I have any idea what chicken fricassee is, which I don’t, and if Julia Child is still alive, which she is not. Where’s Tony when you need him? Have you met the fricassee? Would i even like it? better than Millionaires? likely not. So why exactly DID I run those 4 miles then? I spent the 4 miles wondering exactly that. I suppose it has something to do with fresh air and exertion and a purification of the soul and chasing goals and a search for something perfect that I know I’ll never find but it’s worth looking for just in case. Nah, I was just in it for the chicken fricassee. Whatever that is. Maybe they make it in GU. Oh, well. I’m never going to survive the week anyhow, so I don’t suppose eating the last slice of pie could make things any worse. mostly, i enjoy saying fricas see, fricas do. but that’s just me.
side note: if you are trying to decide between Dominique Vissee’s Fricassee Parisienne or waterboarding, remember you will drown after a few minutes of waterboarding and it will mercifully be over. Although I doubt Gitmo offers chicken fricassee. Whatever that is.