Boski - to spill something on yourself at the office that will make you look foolish all day and cause you to have to replace that article of clothing.

Today I Boski'ed myself at the copier, and got toner all over my pants. Now my khaki pants look like they are apart of the Dockers Black Lung Miners Khaki's.

Now as I walk around my shame is on display for all my peers. Oh how I love to answer the question, "What happened?"

Well me being dumb is what happened, now leave me be.

Great move dumb ass, great freaking move.

I know I my appearance does not show it, but I love being at the gym. I know I have talked about it before, but I am one of those sick bastards that gets up at ten to five and gets their slappy ass out of bed. I get in there about 5:20 to 5:30 and then leave around 8:00. I love that time, since it is my time. I can throw on the headphones and just do my own thing. It is something that helps me through the day. I feel 1000% better days that I worked out then days I just roll into work. It is also something helps me with focus and also it provides me structure that I desperately need.

Now I love my gym, but there are still a couple of things that annoy me, well more people at the gym that annoy me and I would like to address them here. So please excuse the following rantings:

Mr. Hog the Universal Machine and Cable Guy- Yeah I am talking to you and your stupid fancy track suit. You turn the damn thing into a goddamn base camp. Seriously, all I see you do is work on your triceps and abs, oh and looking at yourself in the mirror. You are not climbing Everrest you dumb bastard. Also buddy, there is a limit of 20 seconds of starring at yourself in the mirror after doing a set. After 20, then it is vanity. How do I know? I can see you starring at yourself as I am staring at myself. Also you do not need to take both rope cables to achieve your triceps awesomeness? I know I should just work in on your machine just to piss you off, but I hate confrontations and I am just not up for anything that is going to take more than three words.

Ms. Personal Trainer Who Feels She Needs to Comment on My Squinting, My Lifting, or What I Am Reading - Look leave me alone. I know you mean well, but just let me get my workout in. I do not need you brand of chipperness.

Now for any and all of you who take the free weights and spread them to the four corners of the gym. Just F'ing stop it! If you have to take a weight, that's cool, but the basketball court is not where it goes, neither does it belong at the treadmill or on the track. They belong on the F'ing rack. They are free weights not pigeons. They are not going to return to their perches. Also don't be afraid to put them back in some kind of order. Now I can be guilty of this as well so I will slap my own wrist


There, I am not above the rules either.

Mr. Well The Steam Room Is Just Skin Scaldingly Hot Enough - Look it is a steam room not a freaking crock pot jackass.

Lastly to the two smokers who I see nearly everyday puffing on the lung darts before you come in to play hoops. Look, if you want to smoke, more power to you, but don't you think sparking up the old coffin nails before a workout is how they say, counter productive?

Okay you have heard enough of my petty little rants from my petty little life. Now I have to pack things up head home and go pack up another house.

I have let myself get distracted, yet again. Which is not a shock to my ADD addled mind.

Right now I have been busy with the the following: Getting the Better Half's Mom's house ready for sale, work, football in all of it glorious forms, cheese production in Denmark, futzing around on my Internet crack site FanIQ, the Idaho Art scene, watching the White Sox limp along in September, air hockey stars of the 70's, Calmatto, trying out Facebook, Dutch Elm Disease, and keeping my rage in check anytime John McCain or Sarah Palin are on TV.

I will be back to this blog to give you the underwhelming material you have come to expect here. Right now Boski Industries is hard at work at making this blog not suck as bad as it does.

Last night I came home from Volunteer Night for Habitat. When I pulled into the driveway I came to the realization that his family has moved and we will no longer get to see him bound down the sidewalk to our home looking for some petting, or find him napping in the yard.

We knew this day was coming, but still it hurts. Especially since we didn't really have a chance to say our goodbyes, or give his owners the brush we had for him. Maybe it was for the better since I more than my wife would be blubbering uncontrollably and probably making a scene. I know it is silly to be upset about a cat, but I don't care he is a great cat. Also I have a ridiculously large soft spot for pets, so stuff like this gets to me so easy. I know it makes me a some whack job.

For the past three plus years he adorably stalked us and tried as hard as could to get into our home. Only succeeding a couple of times. Never the less he kept coming back, he never came looking for food, which we never gave him, he just wanted petting and to sniff new things.

Whenever he would catch us as he arrived home, or leaving the house, he would scurry up the path and get to his "petting table", which used to be the his "petting tiki". He would hop up and eagerly await the petting, while listening to us heap praise on him and advising him to stay out of the street.

I have to remind myself that we at least got to hang with him for so long, and we should be thankful for that since his owners picked him up at the pound. Which blows my mind since he such a friendly cat. The birds and lizard in yard would disagree however.

So Adorable Stalker (aka Frisco or Frisco the Cat) thank you for all the great times and all the happiness you brought us. We will miss you, but we hope that you enjoy your new home.

Here are some shots we have of him as he tried to batter us with his adorableness.

Okay, thank you indulging me and my insanity.