I stayed up until four in the morning, drinking and chain smoking and finding more of these goddamn typos than I’m comfortable with. Slept for three hours. Woke at seven. Gas station. Two cups of coffee and the biggest bottle of water I could find. Drove to Fashion Island for a charity run. They had six bands along the route and every twelve paces a cheerleader in a pink cape was shouting, “You can make it!” If I wasn’t married this would be the best place to pick up women. Passed the finish line in just over 30 minutes. Not bad for a 5k considering I haven’t jogged in two weeks. Stood in the parking lot drenched in sweat, smoking. Coughed my lung into a bush. Home now. Tired. Sleep in minutes.
Anybody interested in running the L.A. Marathon? It’s March 21st. And according to this map, I can think of at least a dozen bars we could stop at along the way.