Roadside Dialysis

Shock n’ Awe Ain’t Just an Indian Tribe the U.S. Decimated in the 1800’s

Spring has finally reached my neck of the woods (I dance on your muddy grave, Snow!), and I’ve found myself, of all things, trying—trying, mind you—to get into better shape. I have already started to jog a little bit every day for the past week. What I’m hoping for is a return to something like my jogging glory days (there were roughly 30 of them—my ankles started hurting after that) in college. This go round might even be more successful, since stinky Tacoman pavement has been replaced by non-stinky Warrenite grass.
And seeing as how I don’t like the war and would like to somehow work that dislike into this post, I have decided that I will be jogging for an end to the war. I assure you it will cause no traffic congestion or uncomfortable hippie encounters. My main goal will be to raise awareness among the family that lives next door.
In response to the US government’s “Operation: Shock and Awe Shucks, I Bombed Your Whole Family,” I will launch this, my own “Shock and Awe” campaign, referring of course to the shock and awe you will all experience when you come face to face with the sexy new Jason. Just a head’s up: many of you will likely find the new me breathtaking and irresistable, but this is a bridge we’ll have to cross when we come to it.