It’s getting hot in here, so put on all your clothes!?!?

Here you see me grappling with a much larger man in the fight that would ultimately convince me to get off my lazy ass and get to my natural weight. Say goodbye beer belly…

Could somebody please turn the heat off? I don’t know who reads this thing or where you live, but unless you live on the sun be thankful you’re not in Central Texas right now. We’ve got a pretty nice little summer going down here, something like 30 straight days above 100 degrees. Some days it’s upwards of 105. That’s hot enough to make you question your sanity at least once a day.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Austin, Texas. It is, without a doubt, my favorite city in the United States, and if you disagree with me it’s probably only because you’ve never spent much time here, so take my word for it, it’s fucking awesome. Please don’t move here though. It’s also crowded. Not that I have any right to say that but still.

Only a fool would wrestle around in their best winter pajamas (formally known as a jiu-jitsu gi or kimono) with other sweaty men in heat like this. Unfortunately I’m that fool. I’m training for a jiu-jitsu tournament here in Austin on August 16, and in spite of weighing 183 right now, I plan to make the 173lb cutoff in order to be competing with men more my natural size (cutting weight is like a religion to some of these freaks). All this is fine except that I’ve had to eliminate most of the complex carbohydrates from my diet. For the less intelligent people out there, that means no bread, no rice, no cereal, no potatoes, chips, etc. I do get about 1/4 a cup of raw oatmeal mixed into a protein shake in the morning, but that’s not much.

From an athletic standpoint, eliminating all these carbohydrates from your diet is something akin to eliminating the gasoline from your sports car’s engine. Let’s just say she don’t run so smooth after that. Factor in some high-level competition and let’s just say I got choked out about 9 times this afternoon. Not that I was counting or anything like that. But alas, this is how we learn– by being forced to quit for lack of blood to the brain.

In other news, the festering saga continues with the PS3. We’ve decided to keep it in spite of it’s apparent uselessness. I’m trying to get pumped up about UFC Undisputed 2009, which is lots of fun. I’d just about guarantee you that if I could control the real Anderson Silva with a game controller from my PS3 he’d be the baddest fucking thing since jail tattoos. Oh wait, he already is. So much for that.

The real problem now is not with the PS3, but with Time Warner. You might remember in my last post that Time Warner has been the scourge of our existence for the last year or so. They have this “pricelot guarantee,” which really only guarantees that you have to use their service for one year, and also automatically renews if you don’t cancel it after 11 months for another year. If you’re not already pissed off just reading about this scam, just wait a bit, I’ve got more information on the subject.

We opted out of our contract on time, but we didn’t ever receive proof of this. Well now they “don’t have any record of that transaction.” Sound familiar? So while I was having an oral kaniption fit in the background, Jazz battled the rep on the phone. In the end I think she diffused the situation until Monday, when according to my records they are set to resume jackhammering us again. Should be nice. I’ll keep you posted on how things turn out, but I foresee that some screaming and salivating like a wolf while gnashing my teeth at the phone and making obscene gestures with my hands is almost certainly in my near future. I guess these things happen.

If any of you have similar stories about Time Warner or other Cable Scum that’s been hammering you, I hope you’ll take the time to post your experiences here in the comments section, so we can all have a giant Goddamn-the-Man certified pity-party together here on my blog. Until then, stay cool out there my friends.