I’m running the New York City Marathon tomorrow!!!

Got my number - check. Got my Shirt - check. Got my Imodium AD 72 pack - CHECK CHECK CHECK!!!

Got my number – check.
Got my Shirt – check.
Got my Imodium AD 72 pack – CHECK!

I’m sure that every one of you will be on the edge of your seats all weekend absolutely consumed by thoughts of my five borough trek, so here’s something to make it a little more bearable for you: The link to the runner tracking page.

http://www.ingnycmarathon.org/spectators/trackmyrunners.htm

marathon
No pressure – feel free to not even give me a second thought as I pound the pavement, mile by mile by mile by mile, never giving up, always enduring, profusely sweating like a Jello pudding pop left out in the sunlight for too long at a family barbecue…putting my body through the rigors of 26.2 miles…26.2 freakin miles!!! No big deal at all – enjoy your weekend. What were you doing this weekend anyway? Oh, just raking some leaves? Cleaning out some closets? Oh, that sounds nice too…
logo nyc marathon
Just kidding, some people had asked about tracking me and I’m not sure that NY Road Runners has developed the technology yet that will be able to track someone like me that’s fast like lightning, but here is the option anyway:
nyrr
There is a text to phone option but the one listed below that option is online and FREE. My bib number is 69382…
Any idiot can run
Wish me luck and if I end up face down on the pavement with a bloody nose again or if they open the streets back up before I even get to mile ten – no judgements…
Look out for this guy on the course!!

This is the back of my Marathon shirt!

This is the front of my Marathon shirt.

This is the front of my Marathon shirt.

Runners – as you’re making your way through the course you’ll be overwhelmed trying to remember all the hydration and fueling tips and advice you’ve learned and gotten over the last few months, but there is one important thing you need to have front of mind as you approach that finish line in Central Park. There is always someone faster than you and you’re not going to come in first place, so there is absolutely no excuse for a bad finish photo. The winning male and female are the only acceptable runners that can look like shit on marathon day. As you finish the 25th mile, you have mere minutes to paint the absolute biggest smile you can on your face and make it big. It will hurt, but you want to know what hurts more? getting bad picture from your big day. Those fugly shots can be brutal! No one wants to see the girl who just gave birth’s picture on their Facebook feed – you may not have had a baby – but that’s what it looks like. I am a helper and here to offer my sage wisdom for free so as you finish up the last leg of the race, scout around for the ugly people, the sweaty ones, the fat ones and the hairy ones and sidle up close to them until you pass the finish. This may sound mean or shallow, and it is,  but I guarantee that you’ll thank me for this when you check your email a few days later and see how good you look next to a real hot mess slumped over trying to catch their breath. no matter how sweaty, how hot or how ready to throw up you are – there is always someone worse off than you. Full disclosure, I’m usually that person that’s worse off, but I digress…

Good luck out there tomorrow and although it goes without saying, I’ll be packing extra Imodium AD if anyone needs!

Hasn’t New Jersey been through enough?

toll booth

Forget Sandy, Snookie, and Soprano’s Swan song, New Jersey has had another awful disaster worse than the tanning mom: A man was arrested for defecating in a New Jersey Tollbooth!

http://www.upi.com/Odd_News/2013/06/22/Man-arrested-after-exiting-car-and-defecating-in-Holland-Tunnel-booth/UPI-79161371957477/

Forget No Tresspassing - this is the sign they need to hang in there!

Forget No Tresspassing – this is the sign they need to hang in there!

I must credit my friend Ja for notifying me of this, but the first thing I thought of when hearing this is “Was he in the EZ Pass Lane?” That doesn’t sound very EZ to me? And why on earth don’t they lock those toll booths? Can anyone just enter and have your way with the booth? Who stops to go in them, but even if you live out in the boonies, you lock your doors. Not to be gross, but did this clown leave his special package on a chair or on the floor or on the desk; how big is this booth? More importantly, who has to go to work the next day and use that booth? They might clean it up and spray a little Febreeze in there, but I don’t even let people use my desk phone without cleaning it off, so there is absolutely no way that I would ever go back to work and step back into that booth. My favorite part is that he was arrested for trespassing. If someone takes a dump in the tollbooth – that’s a lot more than trespassing!

febreeze-commercials1

This of course reminded me of a story about my friend “Al”. Not many people will cop to as many embarrassing stories about themselves as I will, so he is a good sport for sharing this one. He was about eighteen at the time and was driving on the Expressway in his friend’s station wagon when his stomach started acting up. The Expressway always has traffic and can back up in a heartbeat and since Al was having the exact opposite of a backup, he made them pull that station wagon over.

He got out to squat in between the guardrails separating the two lanes and since it was summer, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, just khaki shorts and sneakers. As he was squatting and holding onto the guardrail for some semblance of support, he was crouching and doing his business while his shorts and tighty-whiteys were around his ankles. This is not an agile man by any means, nonetheless on the side of the road in a well-trafficked area and thus – his business ended up landing with a thud right into his pulled down tightie whiteys and his shorts. Now, if that wasn’t clear I cannot draw you a picture or explain it any further, so just go with me here. The way it landed, he might as well have never gotten out of the car in the first place because his clothing was ruined.

If you don't know this is Smokey from the movie Friday then I'm not sure we can continue to be friends...

If you don’t know this is Smokey from the movie Friday then I’m not sure we can continue to be friends…

Realizing he was in a bad state, Al stepped gingerly out of his underwear and shorts so as to avoid any and all contact, and then he crouched down in between the guardrails for coverage as he thought about what to do next. It was after about ten seconds that he did what anyone might have done in that position: he shot up like a rocket, jumped over the guardrail, and ran for all he was worth. Well, he then found out that his running was worth about ninety cents because his friends had been watching the whole time and once they saw him shoot up naked and start running towards them, they gunned it and sped away as he gave chase.

He was literally running on the side of the road chasing them wearing just a pair of sneakers and a gold chain around his neck with one hand giving his friends the finger and the other holding his junk. They’d slow down just til he got just close enough to almost reach the door handle and then gun it – laughing hysterically as they watched the show out the back window of that station wagon. Even if he ran like Usain Bolt, there was no way he could have caught them!

usain-bolt

About a mile down the road they finally let him in the car and agreed to take him home. Guess who didn’t think it was funny while they laughed their asses off? If you think that was the worst part of his day, then you should have seen the look on his face as they pulled off on his exit about forty minutes later. He almost lost control of himself again when he realized that his abandoned shat-on-shorts were still housing his wallet containing his fake ID and house keys in the pocket.

He made them drive him back to the scene of the earlier crime, but with traffic getting back there and actually finding the exact spot again, about two hours had passed by in that oppressive August heat. He was afraid of a repeat incident with them pulling away again (although now they had given him a towel to wrap around himself for modesty or to protect the seat from a bare ass in summer) so he took the car keys with him as he left to retrieve his wallet.

Who could predict the massive swarm of flies that would have been surrounding that awful pile of clothing laying there in the mid-day heat, but he needed his fake ID out of that wallet so he dug through and got it. He sprinted back to the car but not before throwing up on the side of the road. This was way before the days of Purell, so I’m sure he stunk to high heaven…

purell_handsoap

The moral of this story isn’t “be careful who you hang out with because friends can screw with you and this can happen to you.” The moral of the story is “Take Imodium AD and this CAN’T happen to you!
For all parties involved, thank God this was way before camera phones as no one should bear witness to that.

In all seriousness, this is the exact reason I am addicted to Imodium AD. I take toll roads, I commute on a train, I travel highways…I wouldn’t be able to leave the house because every misstep spreads like the wildfire through the internet that I’d be a viral sensation the next time I have something other than white rice for lunch.

Hurricane Sandy Retread

In honor of Hurricane Sandy ravaging these parts something fierce, here’s a repost of my Hurricane Gloria disaster story from when I was just a young pup…

https://immodiumabuser.com/2010/12/06/warning-the-post-below-contains-graphic-photos/

 

Rock you like a Hurricane!!!

 

Some people think that Sandy is a Bitch, but I’ve always thought she was pretty nice…

True Story, ABC news just announced that due to Hurricane Sandy’s impact on our region, roads are closed, trees are down and they’re anticipating extended power outages. The Governor is insisting that everyone impacted stay home and immediately log onto immodiumabuser.com to catch up on the posts you might have missed. Now I am not one to argue with ABC news, so get the site up and running before the lights go out!

If you think Hurricane Sandy is causing havoc and inconveniencing you now, think back to what Hurricane Gloria did to me when I was younger. Some emotional scares heal with time, but not for me – I still shudder at the thoughts of it. We have a long history of storms and hurricanes that impact us – such as Hurricane Irene last year.  That was a bitch of a storm and you might have had some damage and inconvenience, but that storm literally popped my son right out of my wife! I am not even kidding here– he popped right out …She was nine months pregnant and we were at the start of our ten day powerless existence from the hurricane’s wrath when her water broke. Of course I didn’t believe her since I never believe anything and always think people are kidding with me Why she would joke about going into labor during a hurricane while we were sitting in the dark because we had no power is anyone’s guess, but I really thought she might be kidding. When I finally did catch on that she wasn’t joking around, I was just grateful that she wasn’t sitting on the couch when that water broke…I don’t know exactly what’s all up in that mix but I certainly don’t want it on the couch.

 

If only I would have prepared the car in advance…

As we were trying to leave the house, I was putting garbage bags down on my seats so my wife could get into the car. She looked at me like I had two heads and tried to take them off the seats. “Oh no you don’t – I don’t know what’s leaking out of there so you’re not sitting on a cloth seat…that shit’ll stain!” This apparently wasn’t a time to indulge my OCD neurotic behavior, but come on – I’d have to trade the car in if the seat got ruined. I know that might sound mean, but come on – what am I gonna tell the valet parking guy? Don’t mind that stinky stain on the seat there… It’s not like you can bring it to the car wash and ask if afterbirth comes out easily. I’m not usually insecure about size, but I just knew that my Tide togo stick wasn’t that big. I sometimes have clients in my car and how would I explain that placenta-cocktail smell on the seat as I try to win their business? She was being unreasonable and wouldn’t sit on the garbage bags, so I tried to put the back seats down flat and lay cardboard over them if that was more comfortable. She was in no joking mood, ignored my protests and then she got in the front seat. I said a novena and did a quick glance to make sure my febreeze was still in the back seat – just in case.

The midwives don’t take you in until you’re in active labor so we were back and forth in the Hurricane as it progressed. On one trip, she almost lost it…”I’m gonna throw up, Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up.” “Not in this car Sister!” I jammed the wheeled all the way and slammed the brakes right onto some one’s front lawn and ran around her side of the car to let her out. She was like a volcano ready to erupt and I needed her out of my car pronto. No sooner had she opened her door when she exploded and started throwing up all over. The wind was blowing wildly, branches were snapping all around us, she was hunched over in this random front yard vomiting for all she was worth and then I remembered and asked: “Should I take a picture of this? Will this be funny later on?” Her head spun around and she just got out the word “NOOOOOOOOO!” before she started with more projectile vomiting….I felt like Max von Sydow in The Exorcist and had to step back and turn away before I got hit. It’s been over a year and you know what? She still doesn’t think it’s funny.

 

My wife actually has shorter hair now.

That might have been worthy of a chuckle or two when she calmed down if the woman that owned the house hadn’t been banging on the front window wondering what the hell we were doing out there…I tried to reassure her that we were not just some lunatics out in a hurricane “It’s OK, she’s in labor…She’s having a baby…” I tried to tell her as my poor wife expelled even more of her guts out but she couldn’t seem to hear me over the gale force winds whooshing by. It was like something out of a bad movie.

 

When her tank was finally empty, I put her back in the car and then almost threw up from the smell as I got back in. Apparently, some of the vomit got on her feet when she was hunched over. I tried to hand her two Dunkin Donuts napkins and she almost punched me in the face. “What are two Effin Dunkin Donuts Napkins gonna do?” So much for me being considerate. I rolled all the windows down and had to drive like Ace Ventura with my head out the window in order to breathe. She asked me to roll up the windows because she was cold and I tried to pretend I couldn’t hear her at first. I did put the heat on for her because there was just no way that I could possibly drive with the windows closed and that smell trapped in there. It was like a cross between Cool Ranch Doritos and a decaying body. I know that I don’t come across well in some of these posts and I accept that. I am not good in a crisis and have been proven to be ineffective at the mere hint of a gagging throat, but my wife is a champ. Everything turned out well, our son was healthy, and my wife proved once again why she is such a superstar!

Some of you getting hit by Sandy right now might be inconvenienced because you’re without electricity and thinking no one could have it worse. Before you complain, think of my poor wife spewing her guts out on someone’s front lawn in gale force winds just mere minutes before giving birth to a beautiful baby boy. Did I forget to mention that she also labored and gave birth all naturally, without any drugs? Guess your storm experience isn’t so bad now, is it?