30 Signs You're Friggin' Old

The Daily Mail published an article with the 30 telltale signs you're becoming an old fart. Although I already know I have many granny-like habits, I figured I'd see how I actually stacked up according to their list. I'll break this up a bit, since there's 30 to go through. Here's how I'm doing on the first ten:


1. Falling asleep in front of the TV.


Well I guess I've been old since I was born. Do people NOT fall asleep in front of the TV? That seems impossible.


2. Feeling stiff.

Only after doing something dumb like running 15 miles for "fun."


3. Groaning when you bend down.

I only groan when I look down and see the ice cream carton is mysteriously empty.

4. Losing your hair.



Hairline intact.

5. Hating noisy pubs.

Crap I'm old. That's me. I don't just hate noisy bars. I LOATE them. I want to be able to make chit chat with my other old people friends, not listen to that crazy racket kids call "music" these days.

6. Thinking teachers/policeman/doctors look really young.

Nope, they still usually look pretty old to me.

7. Getting more hairy - ears, face, eyebrows, nose etc.

Andy sure is hoping this happens to him.


8. Struggling to use technology.

iPhones are freaking confusing. Check my phone and understand why I'm so confused when someone places an iPhone (which must be somehow imported from the future) in my hands:



It dials numbers and takes shitty pictures. That's all I need in a phone.

9. Forgetting names.


Score. My memory is still solid. Check that, memory for things when sober is still solid.

10. Not knowing any songs in the Top Ten.

Thankfully Adele is there, otherwise I'm completely screwed. What the heck is an Afrojack?

So far in the list I'm only 3 for 10 leaning towards decrepit. This is a good start.

Michigan SUMMER Beer Fest

I've been to Michigan's Winter Beer Fest a number of times, but never the Summer Fest.



What I discovered this weekend is: Summer is five billion times better than Winter.





I only had to put on 2 articles of clothing in the first picture, versus the approximate 15 articles of clothing in the second. Less is more people.

Basically, at the Winter Beer Fest, you have nothing to do except drink and try to forget about how cold you are. And since you're standing in 10 degree weather for 5 hours, you drink more than you should. And then you go home and fall down and get 13 stitches.

But with Summer Beer Fest, came warmth, relaxation and my ability to not tip over.



We simply sat down, drank slowly and enjoyed the lovely summer's night.

Oh and did I mention the lack of lines? At Winter Beer Fest, I have waited 5 - 10 minutes in line for almost all of my beers. Because, as previously mentioned, people are cold as a witch's teat and drink to forget the fact that their bodies are numb.

At the magical Summer Fest, I think I waited for a fill no longer than 2 minutes.



I give you coins, you give me beer. NOW.

A wonderful time was had by our group due to the continuous flow of the amazing brews and warm summer sunshine.

We still had our friend's dad come pick us up like we were high schoolers again. Just in case. Because buzzed driving equals drunk driving. Or so the billboards tell me.

So Summer Beer Fest wins the battle of the Beer Fests. I will still attend Winter Beer Fest for the delicious pretzel/bagel chip/donette/peach ring/gummy Lifesaver/anything-with-a-hole-in-it necklaces.



But Summer Beer Fest will now forever be my favorite.

Yogassy

I don't regularly practice yoga, but I'll often do 10 minutes or so at the end of some other form of exercise. In yesterday's case, it was after a 10 mile bike ride.

I usually find it somewhat relaxing and it's always nice to get a good stretch in.

Now, one of the things they emphasis in yoga is breathing through your nose. Something about air flow and some other BS I don't care about. But I try to be a good yoga student and breath properly.

This is easy if I'm alone.

This is not easy if I'm in the living room and Gordie likes to lie as close to me as possible at all times.



Yes, I'm too cheap for a proper mat and use a towel, but ignore my Cheapy McFrugalton ways and let's focus on the dog.

So why is having Gordie close a problem?

BECAUSE GORDIE HAS THE WORST SMELLING GAS KNOWN TO MAN.

Let me put it this way: When we first got Gordie we were unaccustomed to his digestive issues. And when he would unleash a monster on us, we'd often look around for actual dog poop. Because he must have crapped on our faces when we weren't looking because OH MY GOD THE SMELL.

And it is definitely not relaxing to take a big inhale of dog butt whilst performing yoga.

So until Satan relinquishes control of Gordie's bowels, it looks like I'll be locking myself in a room the next time I want to get a good stretch in.

Oh Brother.

Andy took Toby to the groomer today.

And this is where Gordie has been since they left.



Staring at the door, waiting for his brudder's return.

HattenFest 2011

As you can tell from my earlier post, we enjoy celebrating Independence Day by drinking lots of delicious American made craft beer.

We also always celebrate up north with our friends. Andy asked if I wanted to take the Midas up to Red Oak. I think he took my 10 minutes of hysterical laughter as a HELL NO. Not only did I want to avoid breakdowns, but I also had the desire to get better gas mileage than 8 miles to the gallon. Although driving a vehicle that burned ridiculous amount of fuel probably would have been more patriotic.

Before departure, Andy and I purchased some classy $3 T-shirts for the holiday.



We played standard yard games, including frisbee, cornhole, bocce ball and washers.





That's Andy showing off last year's patriotic T while also demonstrating excellent frisbee technique - throwing without spilling his beer.

The boys also exercised their second amendment rights.



One evening we had a beverage blind taste test in three categories: Colas, shitty beers, and IPA's.

Results?

Most people preferred Pepsi (over Coke, RC Cola and Faygo Cola). Everyone had a hard time deciphering between Miller Lite and Bud Lite, O'Douls and BW 55, but nearly all of us identified PBR. Bells Two Hearted and Big Sky IPA were the favorites amongst the microbrews.



We played Dog Bingo while sitting around. This is where you secretly drop a piece of food and put your bets on which dog will find and eat the morsel first. Gordie is usually at the top of the odds list and Toby is obviously always at the bottom as the dark horse bet.

The dogs had an excellent time in general, but all that bingo and play sure was tiring.





And we did our best to keep the pups cool in the hot temps.



We kept ourselves cool by tubing down a river a few times. No pictures, because water + me + camera = bad news. This was generally enjoyable, but we happened to see a group that brought 2 babies and 3 young children and DIDN'T PUT LIFE JACKETS ON ANY OF THEM. I almost got patriotic right up in their faces, but refrained.

We also saw a bald eagle while tubing down the river and named him 'Merica.

We ate SO. MUCH. FOOD. Including the famous Hatten Boil.







And we had to wash that food down with something of course.



Because, afterall, isn't it truly American of me to eat copious amounts of food and get stupid drunk?

God Bless the USA.