6 miles (12:10)

if i won the lottery:

  • i would buy a large chocolate frosty. sure, i am content with the medium chocolate frosty, but just once.
  • i’d pay david lowery to assemble camper van beethoven next to halley’s comet and sing the lottery song, for the pure irony (although possibly not in the marty cortinas sense of the word.) When I win the lottery gonna donate half my money to the city So they have to name a street or a school or a park after me. any tips they got would go directly to me. billionaires are stingy.
  • get a sherpa monkey. but no wine. never trust a sherpa monkey when he’s drinking.
  • ban blue snow cones. is that even constitutional? no worries. it’s a trump new world.
  • then i’d move to flagstaff and be a bum. which is what i’m going to do anyhow. i guess life’s ok when you think about what you’d do differently and can’t think of anything. i’m sort of hoping i lose. and the odds of that are excellent, since i didn’t buy a ticket. oh, well.

6: fred miles (12:10). still trying to convince body that 12:00 is my fred pace. body not buying it. but a short-term lease is possible.
292,201,337: chances of not winning powerball
$292,201,337: cost of entering new york marathon (not including air fare, hotel and street corner bagel). coincidence?

 

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About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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