I signed up for a bike tour in Glen Rose, TX called the Paluxy Pedal. Don't know where Glen Rose is? Yeah, neither did I. Turns out it's about 50 miles southwest of Ft. Worth in the Hill Country. Small towns all over Texas host bike tours throughout most of the year to attract tourists and support local businesses. This tour comes in four flavors: 30, 45, 60, and 80 miles. I opted for the 45-mile version since I'm out of shape and figure three to four hours on the bike is about all I'll feel like at 8:30 on a Saturday morning.

I signed up with my colleague and manager. When I sent the email to them asking if they were interested, the responses included:

Glen Rose is all about the hills. With me on a MTB (I'll get some more appropriate tires) and mostly out of shape, I hope you're ready for a slow ride.

45 miles? I've never even done 30.

Troopers they are, they both agreed to come along. The ride is Saturday, October 11, at 8:30 am. Show up hungover, out of shape, asleep, or on a tricycle. Whatever. I'll be at least three of those things.

If you're interested in other rides, check out TexBiker.net.

Am I the only person who wanted desperately for Sarah Palin to say "hockey mom" at the debate last night? That was all I wanted to hear. "I'm a hockey mom."

Unfortunately, I was too busy drinking at a happy to pay much attention to the TVs showing the debate. Oops.

One of my friends called me with a strange legal question the other day. He's the sales rep for a new flip-flop company. As you know, flip-flops often contain rubber. The question went like this:

Do you know of any tort where someone can sue if a flip-flop melts and gets stuck to the bottom of your foot? You know, like if you're sitting by a fireplace or something and the rubber catches fire and melts? Can they sue for that?

Feel free to post your responses.

I have a new obsession, and its name is someecards.com. They're witty one-liner e-cards for any and no occasion whatsoever. Here's an example from the "workplace" category:

Be careful, though. Those of the faint of heart should take caution before browsing the cards. Some are rather racy and/or make use of foul language. Kind of like the one I pasted above. Sorry.

Besides looking for fun cards to send to people, I also discovered the "Make your own e-cards" section of the site. And as one person told me after giving me a card-worthy topic about which to create a card, I turned into something of a card monster. I'll come up with a card topic and create four cards, and send them one after another. To the same lucky individual. You know, for feedback. Then I submit the best one to the someecard board of directors (or whatever the hell they are) for consideration on the main site. Chances of publication? Low. Thrill level I'll experience if they actually choose my card, or a derivative of my card, or something kinda similar to my card but clearly not my card for publishing on the main site? Ridiculously high.

Some of my cards:

Addendum: I've been notified by the originator of the first card I created above (please see below comment) that the idea for the card was not mine and should properly be credited to the originator of the idea. I hereby relinquish my claim to originating the "falling asleep while with one's partner in an intimate situation" card idea to the original creator, who was not me, who called me to complain. I will maintain ownership, however, of the unique implementation of the idea as embodied in the card above. The unique combination of picture, card color, and phrasing of the idea are properly attributable to me. Sorry for any confusion.

I've been getting slammed with comment spam the past few days. I disabled comments until I find a suitable spam-prevention device. Apologies for the inconvenience.

I just turned 29. It's such a pointless age. It's like turning 20 in a state with a drinking age of 21. Rather than bitch and complain about my age, and claim I'm 21 plus some number, or 25 plus some number, I'm going to say I'm 30 minus some number. That way, I'll be establishing a pattern once I pass 30 and start adding years to my birthday in the form of, "I'm 30, for the third time" or something.

It's brilliant, I know.