Friday without Title

We've been having lackluster gym sessions of late, like through all of June. Has our machine program peaked? Possibly. We don't feel like doing hour long treadmill runs, and we're not in the mood to lift weights. There is also the possibility that we're just getting old, and years of intense exercise is taking its toll. 

We read through The Weser's Confederate section and conclusion. We can't quite shake the feeling that there's more we can write. But as one of our people has reminded us more than once this month, 'Remember your own words. Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good.' Fuck all...

We got an 'all hands on deck' email from one of the military history magazines we write for, or wrote for. We replied, 'You still have that piece we wrote on REDACETED.* And what are you paying these days, anyway? Maybe we can come up with something.' We're not optimistic, as the email talked about Fauci Flu related financial difficulties. Be that as it may, we can help but feel some buzz, or ju-ju, for a project. ETO, anybody?

We're going to take some grief for the Confederate chapter aren't we? 

Update: Okay, we had the Confederate flag up, then we realized what day it is and took it down. Why? For the same reason we winced that time Yankees' broadcaster John Sterling declared after Alex Rodriguez hit a homer off Daisuke Matsuzaka, 'An A-Bomb... from A-Rod.' Think about it. 

*Which they've had for years and years and was totally cool. Think winged hussars.