Tapdancing; CPR; fireflies, Engine 51; juice

I don’t think this needs to be said, but I’ll say it anyway:

Tapdancing is pretty gay.

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I recently went to CPR training at work. So I’m breathing into the dummy’s mouth and then doing the 30 chest compressions like a good CPR student and the whole time I’m waiting to get to the part where I frustratingly bang on the patient’s chest with my closed fist and yell, “Breathe! Don’t you die on me! Breathe Goddamn you!!!!” But oddly enough that wasn’t part of the training –what the fuck?

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I know it’s winter and all, but fireflies are friggin’ cool.

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The CPR training also involved traing on an AED (automated electronic defibulator). The AED machines we have at work are very simplistic and require little of the user. I’m not interested in that. I want someone to hand me those big round paddles and I hold one horizontal as they squeeze that gel onto it and then I get to rub them together in a cool circular pattern. I want to look over my should at the machine looking and yell, “Clear!” before I zap the hell out of that poor bastard lying there, causing his body to involuntarily jolt off the table. Then I want to call Rampart on me and Gage’s awesome tackle-box phone thing.

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The local news here in Albany (and it was even picked up on the national news) has been all over the story of Albany District Attorney David Soares probe/bust of a steroids ring run out of Florida. As an Albany resident all I have to say is, “Big deal, Soares. Why don’t you bust the vagabond meth-head breaking into garages looking for scrap copper pipe.” Steroids? Who cares about steroids? So what if a bunch of muscle-head jocks want to take drugs to make them play fucking SPORTS better – I don’t give a damn. These guys want to take dangerous drugs that don’t even get you HIGH – that’s just stupid in my book.