Dead animals make me hungry

In my Ghetto:

We do not jog.

The Ann Arbor Transit Authority is what really moves the people. To, McDonald's, Burger King, or Kentucky Fried Chicken, Mostly.

We do not say hello to our neighbors.

Instead we call the police on them, while simultaneously yelling at our girlfriend about how she's a "stupid F***ing B****" and "You don't DO IT right anyway!" or "Make me a drink ****". And of course, my absolute favorite, "Why are you messing around with a MARRIED MAN anyway! Get out of my Husband's apartment!" Expletive, noun, verb, unknown origin/insult...

YESTERDAY:

I attempted to start my New Year's Resolution, like so many countless others.

(Except this woman...She seems pretty content, right?)

 Every day I get a text message on my phone that tells me random facts, either about a celebrity birthday, something that happened that day in history, or facts about sports, animals, and random things that no one really gives a shit about half the time - so we decided to read texts about it, share it with our friends, and pretend we're cool. See, like right now, i am going to tell you a FUN FACT:

Only 8% of people with New Year's Resolutions complete them through the month of January. Beyond that only 48% make it to the mid-year point.

So, I've decided that I will not be a statistic, and yesterday I attempted to begin Jogging again.

Now, I live near a very busy intersection on the border of Ann Arbor (home of U of M) and Ypsilanti (home of Crackwhores), so it is difficult for me to really feel healthy. Breathing in exhaust, and running in the road doesn't seem too wise, but I attempted to find a way to do it anyhow and mapped out a backroad that is less congested. It is quite scenic and is exactly 1.5 miles from start to finish. 3 miles is a pretty good start to this "resolution", so I mapped it out on Google, and set out for GLORY.

You know, at first it wasn't so bad! I had a good pace going, there was a chilly breeze, but I was getting my blood pumping. I was feeling really great about myself, I scoffed at some people waiting for the bus as I ran by with my headphones on. I am hot sex. I can run a million miles. I am like Mercury the messenger, only cooler and with baggier clothes on. And less naked. I am a Kenyan. I will run from the tip of Michigan to Alaska in three hours. If I was ressurrected from the grave I would come out of my tomb RUNNING.  "yeah! Heart rate is up! Woot! Wow, it's fucking cold outside....

*running* ugh, my nose is running too"

*runs more* I better look out for traffic                              *looks to the right*                              

*immediately looks down* 

HOLY FUCK MARY ASS CRAP!!!

 *hurdles dead animal remains*                                                    

 *stumbles*

--DRAMATIC PAUSE--

That was sick....

I'm hungry...

Oh look- a dead possum... and then of course, when I ran past the possum, I wasn't sure if it was pretending to be dead, or if it really was... So I cautiously crossed the street while glaring at it in anticipation of a rabid attack. They're vicious you know. I mean- they really know how to put up a fight. Shit, if I was at gun point I would probably drop to the floor and pretend I already died too.

Or, start foaming at the mouth... Either way - I WIN.

Well, by this point,  I had already reached my 1.5 mile marker, so my body was in hunger mode. There were some berries on the ground that looked appetizing, until I realized it was bird shit. So i just kept running. you know, looking back at the whole experience now, and reading what I had encountered... Working out doesn't sound very sexy.

It sounds like a bad scenario where you'll likely get maimed, shot, or mauled in no specific or general order. I should protest Jogging. It's bad for my mental stability. I blame the possum for my post-traumatic stress disorder.

That is all.

Good luck with your New Year's Resolutions.

-z-