Real Men/Women of Genius #55

[Friends, I am NOT supposed to be here–figuratively and, perhaps, literally. I’m supposed to be doing “The Beer Run.” However, this past Wednesday–naught but three long exasperating days ago–in fact just after having posted my tribute to Scott Jurek–directly above this house roared an F1 tornado. Talk about “learning how to dance in the rain”!!! Anyway, that helps to explain today’s “day late and, so far, 20,000 dollars short,” but this special edition is dedicated to Paige Troelstrup, who IS running The Beer Run and who sweetly suggested half-a-week ago that maybe this Beer Run could yield another RM/WoG. Quite the prophetess, eh? So, yeah, this Beer Run has in fact upchucked another “inspiration,” but certainly NOT in the way imagined.]

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Re-al men of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we salute you, Mr. “The Most Interesting Man in the World” Writer.

{Mis-ter, “howwwwwww can yooooooooooooou be so up-beat?”}

“Positivity Wednesdays”? Dude, what kind of surreptitiously grown plantlife leaves have YOU been harvesting, compacting, rolling, and smoking? The last thing you did “positive” on a Wednesday was pay your real estate taxes.

{WHOA!! Look out! Therrrrrrrre’s a storm commmmm-ming!!!}

“Learning to dance in the rain,” you write? Please. Just how does one dance in the driving sideways sleet that fronts the leading climatological edge of a class one tornado? You do the “Hokey Pokey” perhaps. You put your left leg out and some storm door shears it off; that’s what it’s all about?

{Mayyyyyyyyyyybe it’s just “twist-ing a-gain like-we-did-last-sum-mer!”}

Listen to you. Sitting all high and pompous upstairs in your second floor office, transmitting “positive vibes” over the cyberwaves, pretending as if any peeps anywhere pay any attention at all to your slack-jawed awe gushed over sundry running heroes; meanwhile the storm is vibrating your foundation right out of its rivets, big trees are smashing your van roof, and that giant redwood is taking down your back porch–which *was* all decked in redwood.

{“We uuuuuuuused to watch Jul-y Fourth fiiiiiiiiiire-works from there!”}

So it must be payback time from the flora and fauna’s union of Park Fricking Forest. Big lightning bolts are frying your breaker panels, wind is whipping down the power lines, and who-knows-what happened to your DSL-activated telephone land line–but meanwhile? That twister just did its “dance” right over your roof.

{How lowwwwwwwww can yoooooooooou go in the Lim-bo?}

So crack open a lukewarm Bud Light after you clear a path from your stairs to your kitchen and that powered-down fridge, Oh Mister Positive Rogers, and put on a sweater and change your running shoes, because, really, as far as a nice day in the neighborhood goes? This one’s about to turn into Red Cross Nightmare Village for about the next month and a half.

{Mis-ter “Theeeeeee Most IIIIIIIn-terrr-res-ting Man-in-the-Worrrrrrld” Writer!}

Bud Light beer: we don’t care where they brew it; we just dig their commercials.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Yankee Folly of the Day:
It occurs to this Yankee that there may even be some few “peeps” out there who HAVEN’T heard the original “pipes”:
http://www.contemporaryinsanity.org/audio-video/bud-light-real-men-of-genius.html
Have a nice weekend, everybody–especially those doing Western States AND, of course, “The Beer Run.”