As a kid, my father told me that constantly. "Eso es Satanico" referred to Ninja Turtles, Smurfs, Garbage Pail Kids, and even Madballs. I tried to convince him that Scooby Doo wasn't 'satanico' because the monsters were actually angry old men who ran county fairs and not at all related to the devil or he-who-must-not-be-named.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
As usual, I'm killing time before leaving for the gym.
Last Wednesday I spent the night at a friend's place in Atlanta. This guy is looking good. I mean, he was a pretty chunky dude when we were in highschool, but now he's all protein shakes and gym visits. Generally speaking situations like this make me feel bad, as if I'd turned out worse than this guy somehow. Sometimes I find old friends of mine on the internet and read their blogs or whatever and find out that they're married Chicago art critics. It's downright depressing.
Not this time, though. This time was different in that seeing my ATL friend (who is fit and owns his own home) is serving as something of an inspiration. He's actually been online with me lately, giving me workout tips and everything.
It's a great thing to have nice, supportive friends.
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