Rode my bike about 25 miles this morning with Glenn Gervais and John Clark. In the rain. And cold. About 42 degrees and pouring rain most of the way. How pleasant is that? NOT AT ALL.
I take that back. It was fine. Once you reach that point where you're as wet as you're going to get--say 30 minutes into it--but you haven't yet started to get cold, it's OK. Fun even. But when you get cold, say 90 minutes in, that's it. You wanna be home. Like 10 minutes ago. And you can't stop thinking of all the other things you'd rather be doing. Like cleaning out the gutters. Or pulling out your own fingernails.
Or, say wearing a leopard spot bathrobe and looking out the window of one's room in the posh Hotel Monaco in Seattle, as this fine chap was spotted doing two years ago. It was our wedding anniversary and we opted for the romantic package and this really nice suite. Among other things (see leopard spot bathrobe) it came with a CD of Barry White's Greatest Hits which we got to keep. We had a super time, my wife and I, and I'll remember that trip for among other things b/c it was when I think I first realized how much I didn't like Ben Stiller. We watched "Dodgeball," on pay-per-view, and I was open-mouthed stunned at how terrible it was. Wasn't there a time when he was really funny? Or am I thinking of someone else?