Men With Hats

I’m just back from the posh club where I tore it up in lane 3 for about 12 minutes.  Other than a few septuagenarian women ogling my abs, not much of interest took place.  However, a week or so ago I was doing the safety dance in the locker room when I espied three young dudes wearing hats in the sauna. They all had this model on, which I had only seen previously on the old Russian dudes that hang there.

The wife and I have both recently had some procedures and she has just made her way back to the pool this week.  She had her deviated septum fixed, for which the medical term is schnozolla roto-rooter.  And I had one of my molars yanked last week.  I didn’t need any pain meds past that afternoon.  The reason for this is that I’m a beast.  I’m looking forward to implant #3 in the new year.

Khloe K is changing her kid’s name after a year.  When the kid grows up, he needs to get his hands on some of that Kardashian dough and then skip town, maybe the country.  Sadly, they’ll mess him up and he’ll be like Kevin Costner’s kids, whose soon to be ex-wife is claiming she needs big bucks because luxury is in their kids’ DNA.

The reason I bring up the name change is twofold.  First and foremost, I need blog material.  Secondly, it reminds me of a story from my early days.  I was in kindergarten, and I went up to the teacher after class and told her I wanted to change my name to Bob.  I explained that all the other males in my family, my father and brother, were named Bob. Therefore, I saw no reason I shouldn’t be Bob too.  Sadly, she shot me down.

I mentioned the goose shit problem in FC in my last post.  I saw this in the HuffPo so I’m staying away from those bastards.

The Wig is checking out a three-unit property in SF.  He has two kids out here so they could take two of the three spots.  What worries me is that the Wig has been waxing nostalgic lately.  I get the feeling he wants to reenact that semester we lived together in Binghamton in 1980 in the SF top unit.

We had a fantastic dinner at Stella Alpina last night with The Hoteliers.  This was our second meal at their new digs on Burlingame Ave.  We went with the gnocchi appetizer, which was killer. Everybody enjoyed their chow and The Hotelier graciously picked up the tab as we’ve had them over a few times recently.  I’m going to give them a standing invite for pergola time.

A big Happy Birthday shout out to my pal Dr. Joe.