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  • GlibFit 4.0 – Choosing a Program

    Now that we’re all back, the question becomes what to do.  Saying you are going to work out is a far cry from knowing what you are going to do when you work out.

    My return to fitness two years ago made me realize I was at something of a crossroads.  When I was a young man, I wanted to be the biggest. badass possible. Reading ’80s bodybuilding magazines gave me a completely unrealistic idea of what was possible.There were times I spent hours in the gym trying to follow some workout routine that required dozens of sets.  I was dumb enough to not realize how many of the top ranked bodybuilders were taking steroids and the published routines were the fitness equivalent of letters to Penthouse Forum.  It’s no wonder I had so many injuries.

    The question I asked myself this go ’round was, who are you? I’m now in my 50s, have a number of commitments, and am seriously pressed for time. So, what do you want? (Thank me later, Nephilium.) I wanted to get past my dad bod. OK, that’s a start but not terribly specific.  I had a gut.  I wanted to be trim.  I wanted a six pack.  That was a stretch because I never had one before.  I wanted some muscle but wanted to look like a real person, not a cartoon.  I also wanted my wind back.  I enjoyed running and the endurance I had when I ran.  But I knew I wasn’t going back to any sort of distance running.

    The wife roped me into joining a gym.  I floundered around for about a month.  My form on some important lifts had gone to hell.  I had a vague memory of some of the training I used to do but remembered those injuries.  It was bad enough in 20s and 30s.  In my 50s I imagined it being worse and possibly permanent.

    I needed a plan. My wife was pushing for a personal trainer.  No fucking way was I going that route. I saw what trainers had their clients doing.  Some had no idea what they’re doing. Some seemed to know their stuff, but I wasn’t really sure. Listening to the chatter the trainers make with their clients drives me nuts.  If I’m lifting, then STFU. I’m concentrating on what I’m doing. I don’t want to hear your blather.

    I was running out of options.  Until I remembered the internet knows everything.  I stumbled through a bunch of stuff on Google then YouTube.  YouTube was genuinely fascinating.  There was some awful garbage and some invaluable advice.  Video is a particularly helpful medium for demonstrating what to do.  I’m going to go into some of the gems I found in future posts.

    Among the really good advice I found was a guy named Jeff Cavaliere who has a channel called Athleanx.  He’s a physical therapist and strength coach for pro athletes.  His advice was eye opening.  He has a ton of content of YouTube that’s all free.  The call to action at the end of each video is to go to www.athleanx.com to check out their programs. Fine. Whatever pays the bills. The videos are complete videos that conveyed useful advice.  More that that, this guy repeatedly emphasizes proper form, demonstrates it, and explains what makes it proper form.  His tag line is, “If you want to look like an athlete then you have to train like an athlete.”  He was speaking my language.

    As a side note, Glibbroads (h/t Gender Traitor), this channel is still worth checking out even if you never want to see the inside of a gym.  You won’t be disappointed with what you see.  Same advice for gay Glibs who aren’t bear aficionados.

    I don’t know how many videos I watched but it was a lot. This was the real deal and a good fit for me. I bought what I believe is his first program, AX1. I rediscovered just how out of shape I was. But I also had a plan. The plan was achievable, realistic, and could be done in an hour or less 5 days a week.  I was hooked.

    And so it begins.  Who are you and what do you want? What will get you where you want to go?

  • IFLA: The “@#!!*&# Useless Stars!” Edition of the Horoscope for the Week of October 27

    There are times when one turns to the skies for advice, only for the skies to respond with “lol, get fucked.  I’m going to be completely random and you can’t force me to be otherwise.”  Such is the situation this week, with none of the planets wanting to have any connection or relationship with any other.  Now, as contrary as the planets may want to be, they can’t avoid the fact they are actually out there in space, so we still have their relationship with the zodiac to fallback on, and one particularly interesting event will be happening.

    Hail Scorpio!  You begin your season already hosting Mercury and Venus for that initial luck burst, unfortunately it’s not going to last as long s you’d like, because Mercury will be going retrograde before the week is out.  It will be Station Retrograde on Halloween, to be precisely.  Mercury (chance, luck) retrograde (chaos) in Scorpio (secrets, darkness, genitals, creepy-crawlies) is about as perfect a Halloween event as one could hope for, so this should be a Halloween to remember.

    Libra is doing its best to protect us from the conjunction of the moon with Mars (literally, the tides of war).  A more self-indulgent reading of this would be that this week is an auspicious time to partake of martial games or simulations.

    The cards have lots of reversed swords, warning against violence.  This is not a big deal for a bunch of NAPpers

    Scorpio:  6 of Swords reversed – Declaration, confession, publicity, a proposal of love

    Sagittarius:  2 of Cups – Love, passion, friendship, affinity, union, concord, sympathy, the interrelation of the sexes

    Capricorn:  Ace of Coins reversed – The evil side of wealth, bad intelligence; also great riches.

    Aquarius:  4 of Cups – Weariness, disgust, aversion, imaginary vexations, blended pleasure.  Since the source predates Fred Waring, daiquiris are not what is being referenced in that last bit.

    Pisces:  Page of Coins – Application, study, scholarship, reflection, news, messages and the bringer thereof; also rule, management.

    Aries:  4 of Wands – Country life, haven of refuge, repose, concord, harmony, prosperity, peace.

    Taurus:  The Hireophant – Marriage, alliance, captivity, servitude, mercy and goodness; inspiration

    Gemini:  The World – Assured success, recompense, voyage, route, emigration, flight, change of place

    Cancer:  9 of Wands reversed – Obstacles, adversity, calamity.

    Leo:  Knight of Wands reversed – Anecdotes, announcements, evil news, indecision, instability

    Virgo:  Page of Swords reversed – competent person working against you, unforeseen situations, unpreparedness.

    Libra:  King of Swords reversed – Cruelty, perversity, barbarity, perfidy, evil intention.

  • Sunday Morning Links of Lustration

    ADMIN NOTES: The old avatar plug-in is apparently not compatible with the latest WP updates, so SP has installed a new plug-in. Unfortunately, that means Glibs need to upload a new avatar image in their user profile dashboard. Sorry for the inconvenience. Also, if you or someone you know has tried to register for the site in the last couple weeks or so, please submit another request as it may have gotten lost in all the updates to WP, themes, plug-ins, forms, etc.

     

    SP and I watched baseball last night and took on a rather outsized ration of ethanol. And we needed it- it’s been one of those weeks. Next week will be better, though, because… well, fuck, no it won’t. Sigh.

    Maybe birthdays might make me feel better? An early example of the worthlessness of the Nobel Peace Prize; some drunk dude; a pioneer of pop art; a crewcut you could set your watch by; one of the funniest humans ever; and of course the best sports name ever. Fuck, I still don’t feel better.

    News, oh yes, news.

     

    So, basically, that part of the world IS a shithole.

     

    Could you take Clapper with you?

     

    Well, that’s the end of the Trump presidency- this guy is a PROFESSOR!

     

    It would be better for these kids to be blind and dead, say the good-hearted NGOs. Because Progressives believe in science.

     

    I’m stunned to find out that corrupt politicians are corrupt.

     

    Things we all knew. But thank god Cosell is dead.

     

    “Giddyap, Alpo!”

     

    “More research is needed.”

     

    Old Guy Music breaks a major rule of mine- I hate remasters, they’re usually just a gimmick to sell you music you already own. The Steve Wilson remixes are an exception, and this is a remix of one of my absolute favorite Tull songs, from an era where Anderson’s voice hadn’t gotten spoofulated in the recordings or burned out by cigarettes, touring, the screaming of Aqualung.

  • The Night Shift for October 26, 2019 Spook-tacular

    Welcome, Ghouls and Ghosts!  It’s almost Halloween, and, considering we take this stuff into the witching hour (and beyond), I figured I play around a bit with that theme.  As you may recall, I mentioned that I will (would?) be attending a costume party tonight.  As a bona fide glibertarian, I typically eschew social outings like this, especially when most of the attendees are strangers.  However, to tell a family secret, I’ve been curating a Jedi/Sith/whatever get-up for a couple of years now.  And, since I’m no LARPer, this is probably the best place to introduce the world to my lame-ass attempt at make-believe.  With that, I’m now going to attempt to refocus your attention on some-WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!? (made you look!)

     

    A fitting start to tonight’s festivities.

    My usual even starts with a rather appropriate tale.

    The horror….The horror…  Serious, if you are prone to sympathy pains, you may want to skip this.  Then again, if you have been here for any length of time, this is simply the visual representation of many a link on this site.

    I used to wonder why we didn’t have (more of) a UK glib presence here.  I now think most of our “type” are probably in jail.

    So, in the interest of not bogging anyone down with too-long videos, check out this rather fascinating collector of internet oddities.  YMMV with the various videos, but, I typically enjoy his postings.  Hint:  try the video for “Channel 58”.  It’s about 30 minutes, but kinda creepy-fun.

    Thanks, Metroplex!  Trying to keep in mind that 11 people (out of 12) said this was the correct way to proceed.  I tend to believe the saying that juries are made up of people too stupid to get out of jury duty.  And, Dallas County is chocked full of people fitting that bill.  And, thanks to them, this child is gonna be wearing a permanent costume.  Trick or treat, kid.

    Any of you have Halloween stories you want to share with the rest of us?  If it helps, I can get a campfire going.  The only stories I can recall are the year I stayed home to protect our dog.  Now, this was the mid 80’s, and there was lots of talk going around about the possibility of cults kidnapping pets for animal sacrifices.  The only really shocking thing about it was that my mom was OK with me missing church to stay home with my dad’s 12 gauge to protect said dog.  Nothing happened.  Also, I may, or, may not, have pulled a Trudeau at some point in my teens.  That’s right; Diggy may have almost bankrupted the Great White North, while smothering it with wokeism.  Or, maybe Diggy didn’t

    “Cara Mia!!”  The three-legged stool (eww) of Horror, Romance, and Humor is difficult to build.  That said, this is a fun attempt at the concept.  Look—it was either that, or, this attempt, and you lot always gripe about “Too early!!1!eleven”

    Halloween news you can use?  Yes.  Yes, it is.

    Go on–Just embrace it.  ?

    I think that wraps up the month rather well…alright—mediocrely.   It’ll be November soon, so I guess I have to dig up tales of turkeys, family feuds, and colonial oppression.  See ya soon, Pilgrim.

  • Saturday night links of the week-end

    Ziggy zoggy, ziggy zoggy, oy, oy, oy!

     

    I hope my fellow Glibertarians are well and a shout out to Evan from Evansville. Get well, buddy.

     

    I’ll try not to trigger like I did on Tuesday.

     

    Okay, I lied.

     

    Please don’t lop my head off with a machete.

     

    What did socialists use for light before candles?

     

    I thought she would be better at taking a fist.

     

    Proggy on proggy violence.

     

    Channeling his inner Florida man.

     

    That’s it, Glibbies! Time to get your snark on.

     

    Who did it better?

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJs_L7yq5qE

  • Food Porn: You’re doing it wrong, Canada

    As always, I credit my ideas for writing prompts each week with you.  Seriously, it’s you people that allow me to do this and not drive myself nuts.

    This is my review of Dogfish Head Palo Santo Marron.

    So in last Sunday’s inspiring Glibfit article, Chafed inspired something in all of us.  Some of it was good, but others…

    Plus, I never liked what poutine looked like.

    What I actually wanted to call it, was “diarrhea over fries”.  My problem at that exact moment, was that I was drinking beer at OMWC’s second least favorite airport while simultaneously watching the Cardinals managing to somehow win another game, I forgot how to spell diarrhea.  Autocorrect was not helping me at all.

    I’ll have my revenge.

    I know what you are thinking:  “you get held up by diarrhea but Monteczuma comes out easy?”  No. Because I spelled that wrong too.

    In my defense though, there are several ways to spell that.  While not dead, Nahuatl is an unusual language.  As for the topic at hand, it is equally as interesting:

    1. The spelling of “diarrhea” is an appropriation of the Greek “diarrhoia” meaning “a flowing through.”

    2. Middle English diaria, from Medieval Latin, from Late Latin diarrhoea, from Greek diarroia, from diarrein, to flow through : dia-, dia- + rhein, to flow, run; see sreu- in Indo-European roots.]

    3. diarrhoea U.S. diarrhea noun the runs, the trots (informal) dystentery, looseness, the skits (informal) Montezuma’s revenge (informal) gippy tummy, holiday tummy, Spanish tummy, the skitters (informal)

    4.  “oe” / “ae / “e”: Common diphthongs like “oe” / “œ” (e.g. “diarrhoea”, “oestrogen”) and “ae” / “æ” (e.g. “encyclopaedia”, “leukaemia”, “anaesthesia”) in British and Canadian spelling “diarrhea”, “estrogen”, “encyclopedia”, “leukemia”, “anesthesia”). are usually simplified in American usage to “e”

    5. 1398, from O.Fr. diarrie, from L. diarrhoea, from Gk. diarrhoia “diarrhea” (coined by Hippocrates), lit. “a flowing through,” from diarrhein “to flow through,” from dia- “through” + rhein “to flow.” Respelled 16c. from diarria on Latin model.

    RESPELLED? Why? What happened in the 16th century that would have caused such a word to be respelled?

    So now we know.

    How am I able to link all this to the beer?  Those are Spanish words meaning holy brown stick…

    It is typical Dogfish Head. Pricey ($13.99 ….. for 4 bottles), but really good. It is a nice, thick brown ale aged in bourbon barrels.  I have to assume is quite the popular style of craft beer in the area I was traveling for business (the south), because it was either that or half a dozen choices for IPA.  Don’t drink this one ice cold. Dogfish Head Palo Santo Marron:  4.5/5.

  • Saturday Morning Confused Links

    Yes, this morning’s links are intersectional: senility, Judaism, and Halloween. Well, not the actual links, they’re the same usual bullshit, but my overall theme. I mean, links usually deal with retardation of one form or another.

    Speaking of which, birthdays today include a guy they named a dog after; a woman they named a food after; aguy they named a cereal after; and a woman they’re never going to name anything after.

    Now news.

     

    Wasn’t this an Arthur Brown song?

     

    If you’re going to have a moral panic, may as well make the most of it.

     

    Well, that’s that, then.

     

    I’m guessing these won’t be sold to Jews.

     

    “FUCK! I thought I was gonna be the next Kamala Harris!”

     

    “…and then weed fell out of his ass.”

     

    Where’s the Raid?

     

    Fly the friendly skies.

     

    Old Guy Music is a fun thing I found after an odd conversation with Warty yesterday. But then, it’s hard to have anything other than an odd conversation with Warty.

  • SEA SMITH FRIDAY EVENING ADVICE

    SEA SMITH SAY “HI SHIP”

    SEA SMITH HAPPY SEE GLIBERTARIAN AND HOOMANS…AND HAVE SWORDFISH IN POCKET! HAHAHAHA! AFTER MAKE GOOD JOKE, SEA SMITH WANT GIVE ADVICE. HE LIKE ADVICE, AND GIVE JUST LIKE COUSIN STEVE SMITH AND FUNNY STONE HEAD. HERE GOOD ADVICE. FROM SEA SMITH:

    Q. I lost my best friend to suicide last year and, in the aftermath, became close to her husband. We eventually began a romantic relationship. She had left him six months before she died and they were in the middle of a divorce. Her death was a complete surprise. Despite all this, we have worked hard to be open and honest and build a good foundation, and I am very happy in this relationship. It has been a mutually good thing for the both of us to have close support and be able to start to heal.

    We have five children between us, and for the most part, they have smoothly transitioned into this new chapter between our families; they all get along, as they had known one another somewhat before this. However, my boyfriend’s 12-year-old daughter, “Polly,” isn’t having an easy time. Her dad has said that she likes me as a person, but she’s got mixed feelings about him dating. I completely understand that, and I am doing my very best to be very careful. She just lost her mother and is hurting, and I do not want to put pressure on her to accept me.

    My partner is a very attentive father and has had many conversations with her about this relationship. He lets her know that she can express her feelings about it to him and they’ll work through it, but tells her that our sex life is none of her business and she needs to drop it. I personally feel the same way; I have no problem backing off while she adjusts and I will do whatever I can to make her feel more comfortable, but I am at a loss as to what to do about this particular fixation she has with us having sex. I am very conscious about not being too touchy-feely with him in front of the kids, but I am not about to have a 12-year-old dictate my sex life. Short of leaving the relationship, I’m unsure of what else to do here. I appreciate any advice!

    A. SEA SMITH HAVE ANSWER. PUT SMALL HOOMAN WHO COMPLAIN INTO BOAT. AIM BOAT AT NORTH POLE. PUSH BOAT AWAY SHORE. PROBLEM SOLVED!

    IF FATHER NO LIKE IDEA, MAYBE SEND SMALL HOOMAN TO WORK IN MONOCLE MINE? TRY FIND USEFUL PLACE. THEN CAN MATE WITH MURDERER GRIEVING WIDOWER.

    YOU WELCOME, FOR GOOD ADVICE.

    NOW MANNERS!

    Q. Is it bad manners to finish someone else’s plate without asking? I will leave half a sandwich to finish later, and my husband will come along and eat it without even asking if I am going to finish it. And most times it is the only sandwich like it. I cannot duplicate it or remake it.

    A. THIS EASY ONE! EAT HALF SANDWICH. PUT FISHHOOK IN OTHER HALF. WAIT FOR FUNNY YELL AND BLEED! HE NO STEAL FOOD AGAIN.

    FRIEND NINGEN STEAL SUB TOO!

    Q. We have a small house, and family and friends are always welcome. We also have six cats, and their care and comfort are important.

    We have to keep our cats separate so they don’t fight (everyone is spayed/neutered; they just don’t get along), so two cats live in what used to be our guest room.

    We explain this to our overnight guests, several of whom are allergic to cats and/or don’t like cats, and they still insist everything will be fine. They then refuse to let the cats in the room during the day, while the distressed cats howl and claw the door.

    Frankly, I don’t care if the cats take their jewelry, but I do care if the cats choke on it.

    There are also simple things that must be done when living with cats, like making sure indoor cats don’t run out the door, keeping toilet lids down, and keeping breakable things out of their reach. It seems our guests simply don’t care, and don’t comply. I don’t see why this is all so hard to understand. The cats need care and consideration; they are not disposable furry houseplants.

    To be fair, we stay with these pet-less folks when visiting them, so we can’t ask them not to stay with us. I’ve even tried putting Post-it notes around the house, reminding guests to keep doors and toilet lids closed, etc., which was considered rude. How do we handle this situation politely so there are no hurt feelings?

    A. *SNIFF, SNIFF* SEA SMITH CAN SMELL CAT URINE! CRAZY CAT PEOPLE, TELL OTHER HOOMANS, “GO AWAY! CATS RUN HOUSE, US IS SERVANTS OF FELINES.” IF OTHER HOOMANS STILL INSIST ON SHOW UP, SNEAK DOOR OPEN, LET CAT PUKE HAIRBALL ON LUGGAGE. THEM NO COME BACK.

    SEA SMITH GIVE BEST ADVICE.

    COME ON IN, WATER IS FINE!

  • FRIDAY AFTERNOON ZARDOZ LINKS

    “Computer, open a copy of the classic movie ‘Zardoz’!”

     

    ZARDOZ SPEAKS TO YOU, HIS CHOSEN ONES. ZARDOZ URGES HIS CHOSEN ONES TO SECURE A COPY OF THE CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE NAMED AFTER HIM….BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE! THE GREAT EVIL THAT IS “DISNEY” IS TRYING TO HIDE THE GLORY OF ZARDOZ FROM THE WORLD.

    THE BRUTAL EXTERMINATORS ARE LOOK FOR D-CON AS WE SPEAK!

     

    BUT EVEN WHEN FACED WITH GREAT EVIL, ZARDOZ WILL NOT FAIL TO DELIVER LINKS TO THE CHOSEN ONES. RECEIVE THEN THE GIFT OF THE LINK. GO FORTH AND COMMENT!

    • YES, OF COURSE YOU DO. DO THE BRUTALS OF THE LARGE APPLE CRAVE TO BE TOLD THEY CANNOT DO THINGS?
    • ZARDOZ SHOULD OFFER HIM SANCTUARY IN THE VORTEX – HE SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD RECRUIT FOR THE BRUTAL EXTERMINATORS!
    • A GOOD MONTH…BUT THE CLEANSING COUNT NEEDS TO KEEP GOING UP.

    ZARDOZ HAS SPOKEN.

  • Update from Ev

    October 24, 2019

    Chiang Mai Ram Hospital

    Private Room

    I’m old enough to know that life always changes in unexpected ways, but I’m not disciplined or skilled enough to have made the most out of that reality. Rather than make me special, that more accurately lumps me in with the majority of people, by my estimation. This story is a one-off example of when that truth doesn’t hold up to anything meaningful. My writing is also askew, as I’ve long been out of practice and the writer living within me is currently on the Disabled List.

    A month ago, Lady and I were going around Chiang Mai, Thailand, where we work and call home. I got out of the taxi and got a scooter to navigate around the heart of city. Shortly after I was hit by a car. I flipped off the bike and landed on my head on the curb of a walkway. My head busted open and blood poured through the many cracks approaching my brain. I also broke four ribs. I remember none of this or the next several weeks. Lady told me about it all; I was taken into a vehicle and sped off to a hospital, where they sawed off a chunk of my skull larger than one of my hands.

    The boneless area of my head would swell with pockets of blood, creating dangerous areas that prevented one from poking directly into my brain itself. My ribs would flex and swell,causing profound pain by frequently poking my lungs or other internal organs. Sneezing, damn diaphragm inflating, would push the bones around as well, delivering pain that I learned to avoid as best I could.

    In my life I’ve broken about fifteen bones, I’ve had both hips replaced, and have largely lived a life that involved smiling through pain, understanding that complaining doesn’t have a point in such circumstances. Learning how to cope and reduce long-term damage is more useful. This injury soaked me in two related lessons: The pain I was going through also affected my memories of both real events and also of historical or literary importance by locking them from my active search. In many ways I’ve been able to flip the hand I’ve been dealt in order to use this truth to my benefit.

    I mentioned that I have no recollection of the accident and the aftermath. I have also forgotten the lyrics to hundreds of songs. I’ve known who assassinated President Lincoln since I was 8 years old. The Booth name slipped my brain all day today and I angrily had to look up the name, despite remembering all of the details behind the events. Those slips and hundreds of others make me angry. I can’t trust how my brain is trying to mock me by getting me to believe by pushing a story that passes muster when first looked at again.

    On the other hand, however, doctors, nurses, and family members have all had the same compliment to attribute to me. They appreciated and applauded my patience with the injuries and difficulties with the mental stalemate. After reflecting upon this statement, I slowly began to understand its truth and importance. I could no longer see the next step in Whatever Game, so it was wiser to focus on the factors that would reveal their importance within x amount of time. I also learned not to panic when I understood that the next step was too high or too far away for me to put too many chips behind. This taught me to handle things within proper due process, surprisingly with future aspirations and unexpected effects.

    This helped me think about my nomadic life and my current work-related opportunities. Important goals and things that need to be painted in, but too much is happening *NOW* that need to first be settled or conquered. The current End Game requires too many variables to be accounted for at the moment for an adequate, let alone perfect, solution to be settled upon.

    This so far has helped me navigate the issues that have long roamed my personality and zoomed through my consciousness, perhaps often looking for a way not to pay. I know the ones that cause me too much trouble and should be shied away from, and I know which information can be absorbed and need my direct attention. Sometimes they act the very same as each other now, before they separate into their unique paths. Keep a close eye on those. They frequently have a way of reading you that can leave you helpless until you smell out their unique games.

    I suppose I’m out of time. I had planned on personalizing this to many people, but I think this is the bottom line. I have surgery in ten hours and I can only eat one more meal in the next two hours. The clock is winding down and I’m not sure how long I have to keep writing this prelude or when I’ll be able to put together the Post Surgical Thoughts onto a page.

    Thanks to everyone who has reached out to me. Many have been in their own way. People I’ve worked with (both traditionally and artistically); friends from all over the world; special love to my brother and mother who came to visit. And perhaps the most love to Kylie (Lady), who has shown a Romanesque devotion to helping me however she can.

    I thank everyone. Your kind words and actions have kept this prisoner free in thought and desire. Hopefully after I get my skull reattached today I’ll be better suited (in a certain amount of recovery time) to pursue the goals some of you have added to my Ledger.

    Please stay in contact. I’ll do my best to do the same. Some people, when they are mentally ill or several drinks under the table, suggest that they need to get their head straight. I’m going to give it my best shot today. Hopefully the future bubbles I’ve planned will align once the doc physically gets my skull sorted. I’ve been working at it like a lumberjack on a log cabin. I feel confident in how I’ve lined up everything in my head. It’s time to put my bat on the ball.

    Have a fantastic weekend!

    Evan from Evansville