12 Like Me

Here I was, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Supalinds sends me a Yahoo instant message. It was all down hill after that.

We talked about Benny's "pee-color hydration plan", alternative methods for obtaining triathlon gear (ie, putting out), and Greyhounds' constant haranguing of our inability to get the "meter" right on our limericks.

We realized that we definitely have something in common: we act like we're 12 years old. Most of the time. She posted the present I made for her on her blog, and since she's still new to all this, I thought more of you might like to see the Bigun acting "the fool".

I guess I just had to show Supa that the meter was A-OK. Sorry about the lapse in the audio to video. And if you are offended. Well, not so much that.

Mom....Dad - you probably don't want to watch this. Or read below the video for that matter.




It may be hard to understand:

There once was a girl named Lindsay
Who was having trouble with her kidney
Her Hubby said from the rear,
"...I'll make you pee clear!"
...he had a big one, didn't he?

More Limericks

Rated R

Caution...the middle one is very Limerick-like....ie, dirty-ish...which is perfect for Blink...


There once was a girl named Lana
Who's header once resembled Madonna
Her one brush with fame
was in the Tomb of Shame
Drinking cocktails with her jailer TriMama


There once was a man named Blink
Who's balls, when he rode, they would clink
Women gathered around
to listen for that sound
And as he rode by he'd just wink -


There once was a man named Sweet Baboo
Who ran down the sole of his shoe
Now brothers and sisters
He got some big blisters
And he tried to anoint them with Gu!

Bigun Limericks

Greyhound's at it again - so I had the pleasure of doing the Limericks today. This is a couple hours worth:


There once was a man named Bolder!
Who preferred women a little bit older
He loved BMC
Who’s bikes he had three
But his swim suffered from a bad shoulder

Eye, yei yei yei,
Tri-Dummy wears his bike helmet backwards!
Oh sing me another verse, that’s worse than the other verse
And toss me around by my willy!

There once was rich man from New Orleans
Who showed up to a race in cut off jeans?
He said, “beg your pardon”
My bike’s made of Carbon
But his legs were like two little string beans

Eye, yei, yei yei,
Roman sued himself twice for plagiarism!
Oh sing me another verse, that’s worse than the other verse
And toss me around by my willy!

There once was man called Tac Boy
Who loved products made from Sugoi
Pad up or Pad down?
His whole family did frown
When the smell rivaled that of a dead koi!

Eye, yei yei yei,
Excel Man got chicked again by Tracey Parker!
Oh sing me another verse, that’s worse than the other verse
And toss me around by my willy

There once was a man named Greyhound!
Who used to have a belly that was so round
But he worked and he strained
Now he’s so over trained
That he can’t lift his feet off the ground!

Eye, yei, yei yei,
Nytro drinks Mojitos at breakfast!
Oh sing me another verse, that’s worse than the other verse
And toss me around by my willy

And yes, "willy" is what you think it is. No, it's not tri-related, unless you are in a really, really, realy rough swim start.

A New Year Story

So we are in the truck heading to our friend KoJo's house on New Year's Eve to have an adult beverage and share our Christmas gifts, and Mrs. Bigun asks me to call her and tell her that we are on the way. KoJo lives with Gary - a great guy, who has a dry sense of humor and struggles with laughing at our jokes and maintaining the persona of responsible dad to his teen-age son. Mrs. Bigun and I test his mettle every chance we get.

I hit the "contacts" on my cell phone, find KoJo and press send...(and no, I just wish I had an I-Phone)

Him: Hello...(great! Gary answered...it's so on...)

Bigun: High! Can I interest you in some Amway products?

Him: ....ahh...no....

Bigun: (thinking for sure he's checked his caller ID and knows it's me) Well then how about some Viagra?

Him: No....I'm good-to-go there....

Bigun: Well, we're on the way over, and this is a courtesy call; we're doing an inspection and I think you should hide all your drug paraphernalia and prophylactics (I'm trying to use big words).

Him: What a jerk....(Click)

Bigun: He hung up on me! That's strange...I think he called me a jerk!

Mrs. Bigun: What? No way! Call them back!

Bigun: I'm gonna call them back.

I hit redial, and a woman answers....

Bigun: Hello, Kathy?

Woman: No, this isn't Kathy ya jerk! (Click)

Bigun: She said it wasn't Kathy, called me a jerk and hung up...weird! (I'm thinking she's playing with me now...too funny...)

Mrs. Bigun: Let me call her...

Mrs. Bigun dials the number on the phone instead of hitting redial or going to the contact list.

Mrs. Bigun: Hello, Kojo? Hey - were you just talking to the Bigun? No? You've been on the phone the whole time? Ok, well, we'll be there in a couple minutes...see ya then.

Bigun: What number did you dial? ....6506, lets see, the number I have is ...8506....

The realization hits me like E. Coli-laced Taco Bell in a German Pro Triathletes' Stomach -

Bigun: Holy Crap! I'm 44 years old, and I just made a crank phone call!

I actually think Mrs. Bigun might have peed, just a little. She's still laughing about it.

TB'nB Products, Inc.

Nothing says "Happy Holidays" better than that sickly sound of your bike falling over on to the pavement. We've all heard it before - the sound of aluminum, or worse yet, carbon fiber hitting black tar can spoil any one's day within earshot (note, if your bike's made of steel, really, who gives a rat's ass?).

All manner of attachments can easily be destroyed by the zero mile-per-hour plummet - pedals, crank arms, bike computers, seat posts, and yes, even the occasional base bar can crack like Everyman on an Ironman run.

Fortunately, there is a solution. TB&B Products Inc in conjunction with NASA and the super-secret branch of the government that Tri-Dummy works for have developed a fall-proof anti-bike-tipping devise that we like to call "Alessandra (TM)".

For just $200 an hour you too can have the perfect must-have biking gadget that will leave all your roadie buddies drooling. Call our toll-free hot-line to have Alessandra (or a suitable substitute) shipped to your favorite bike-ride launch point. All we need is your bike size (we like to match up Alessandra leg lengths) and credit card number and you'll NEVER have to worry about broken base bars again! Get your loved one the perfect holiday gift!

Call now!

TB'nB is not responsible for broken heels or any additional bike seat wear that may occur from the use of our product. Minimum of 1 hr, all additional time billed by the half hour. Alessandras will not ride bike, have no mechanical training and frankly, you'll be lucky if she can form a complete sentence. Should the need arise, we do have our companion product, "Alfonzo" available at half price in limited supply. We say limited, 'cause Tri-Dummy just won't stop calling for the dude.

Amaising Adventures of Taconite Boy

Episode 18:

The region around the city of Coeur d'Alene is a mountainous one, full of thick, dense forest and hidden terrain. Once inhabited by Native Americans, it is dotted with ancient burial grounds - most long forgotten and untended by their worldly makers.

The dead, however, are still there. The grounds are still hallowed and spiritual, no matter how overgrown. This fact was realized far too late by a simple family settling in the CdA region at the turn of the century. A growing city, bustling with new development and endless opportunity, made no amends with the historical nuances and "color" of the surrounding countryside. A certain uneasiness was felt immediately by the woman of the house; even the children complained of bad dreams and bumps in the night. These feelings were ignored by the man seeking new wealth in this golden land - even though he sometimes did feel them himself.

A generation lived, grew old, and died in that house, leaving children and grandchildren to play in the streams and woods nearby. One such grandchild, a large kid at an early age, took pleasure at taking trips of discovery into the woods. He left no rock unturned as he searched for, and found, interesting objects. Old bowls, tools and the occasional arrowhead were all stored in his treasure chest, and soon it filled to capacity and was put away, as the attentions of a young boy often change with the seasons. As the boy turned into a man, having used his size to win battles on the football field and woo the local prom queen, he came across the chest and fondly remembered his days of discovery.

One last trip into the woods before leaving CdA for his own fortunes; one last trip for old times sake. This one would take him down a barely recognizable path, past a stream and over a draw that was familiar, yet never before seen by this young man. And then, at once, it laid before him, a large mound dotted with oddly growing trees and scrub brush, the original ornaments and decorations long since weathered away. It called him closer, and he went willingly, until he had climbed to the mound's peak. Had someone been watching, it would have been as if a sledgehammer had hit him in the forehead, dropping him like a sack of bricks - yet hardly a sound was made, save for the blowing of the wind and rustling of the leaves...

Army Navy Game

Tomorrow is a big day. Yes, we have the airing of NBC's Ironman World Championships, but guess what? Macca wins it. Sorry to spoil the surprise. Yes, it's in High Def (arrrgh, arrgh, the Bigun loves his big screen HDTV), and yes, I'll be saving it on the DVR.

But tomorrow is also the 108th time Army meets Navy on the football fields of friendly strife. See'ns how I'm a grad of West Point, Mrs. Bigun and I will be going to Raymond James Stadium here in Tampa (where the Bucs play) to watch them with a few hundred other loyal Army (and, yes, Navy...) fans. Excel Man and GEL will be there to eat non-stop barbecue and razz the Navy pukes with us. They'll have the game up on one of the big jumbo screens, and with all the hoopla, it will sort of be like being at the actual game, except warmer. I'm guessing it will be cold in Baltimore tomorrow.

It is a banner weekend for triathlon fans, as the first showing of the Ironman Wisconsin is going to air on Versus Sunday. I've got that set to record as well. Mrs. Bigun understandably gets a bit miffed to have to sit through a TV show about Ironman. It's not enough to have to sherpa at all these tri's. It's not enough to have to listen to me go on, and on, and on about training and racing. So, I watch them when she's not home. Mostly.

Bigun History Day

With the discovery of the Sprite Commercial tape I was able to relive some old memories and share them with my peeps. That was cool for me. Moms (Mama Bigun to you) was here and brought another old tape...this one from the late 90's...of some even cooler old Bigun stuff. This is Bigun and Mrs. Bigun (Di to you) history, from way back in '96.

I had just gotten out of Special Forces, and was wondering what to do with myself. I had thought it would be cool to open up a rock climbing gym and guiding business, as I had started climbing pretty heavily with my guys on my SF Team and when I was off-duty up at Ft. Devons, MA. Why not, right?



Sorry about all the dead space in the youtube vid...I'm still not very good at editing and getting youtube to accept what I do.

So, not being the shrewd business man, I decided to open this place in the tiny military town of Columbus, GA...home town of Ft. Benning - the home of the Infantry. This is where things like "Jump School" (Airborne School, or parachuting out of perfectly good airplanes...) and Officer Candidate School, or OCS (think Richard Gere in "An Officer and a Gentleman" without the beach or ocean) are located, plus some Army units like Rangers and what-not.

Turns out the military community, while a fine bunch of individuals, had a difficult time, logistically, supporting The Crux - and with the transient nature of military folks, getting repeat business was hit and miss; mostly miss. Live and learn. We had fun.

The little girl climbing barefoot is Jackie, she's in college now (good grief...) and her dad is belaying for Di - he came out on his nights off and helped me build the walls. We might not have been great (or even good) carpenters, but no part of that structure ever failed, and in the years we were open, no one got hurt climbing. How, I'll never know. Oh, and yes, in the climbing biz, the wall is affectionately known as a "woodie"...



Di and I closed The Crux after about 3 years in business to move on to some other crazy stuff, but not until we had completely expanded the climbing walls with 2 more structures that filled up the entire warehouse. We took groups to Cheahaw State Park in Alabama on climbing tours three or four times a year, and hosted climbing competitions in our tiny gym a couple times as well. I even taught a PE class for the local community college! Professor Bigun. Go figure.

The Bigun got a little skinnier over the course of 3 years of climbing in this gym, and got to where I (and a small group of regular climbers) would do laps up the inverted walls and the overhang wall (that I'm struggling mightily with in the video) for workouts before heading out to the rock on the weekends. Di and I miss our climbing days something fierce! Since closing the gym, we haven't been climbing since. Florida just is not that conducive to vertical endeavors.

A Greyhound in a red Speedo

I think Tri-Greyhound's teased us wayyyy too much with his posturing about the red bikini swim briefs. In an effort to provide "coverage" of this continuing development, we here at Bigun Studios have purchased un-retouched photos of our fearless Tri-Greyhound getting ready for a swim in a nearby pool, or, a modeling gig....check it out:








Many of you will never be the same...Tri-Greyhound has asked that all offers be routed though his agent.

But you caught me...I know, I know - the Greyhounds had a little bit too many calories since becoming an Ironman, and we here at Bigun Studios have had to really shell out the bucks to bring you, well, the REST of the story:

Beer, Beer and more Beer

So it's Wednesday morning, and I'm now moved my status from "sick" to "under the weather" - whatever that means. Well, I guess it means that I'll be working today.

Attempt #1 at compiling photographs was a flop - we tried to copy the pics to a CD without luck - some glitch in the matrix - so we'll have to go to plan B and, well once we figure out what plan B is, we'll let you know.

Everyone's thoughts should be with Commadore and his family today. He took a nasty fall and may have to deal with a concussion (yet another concussion) - hang tough there, Comms!

It's funny - you finish up a great weekend meeting friends and watching great feats of athletic strength and endurance, and you almost don't know where to start. At least with a race recap, you have a logical flow to it. I guess I could start with a Fri-Mon theme, but I'm also wanting to avoid telling other folks stories. I'm sure my mind's still just a bit cloudy from the cold - work should be interesting today.

The one thing I did notice was just how much beer Taconite Boy can consume - man, that guy just put one down after another. Beer, Beer, Beer. That's all he could think about. When superhero's go on vacation, they drink ungodly amounts of beer. Now we know why PCB ran out of beer - Taconite Boy drank it all. Nasty, greasy food and beer. If they sold beer IV's, he'd have been hooked up to one. I got alcohol poisoning just trying to keep up with him, and I outweigh him by 55 lbs! The man needs help. We need an intervention.

Oh, and remember, most of what I write about this PCB IM weekend will not be true, well, not totally true.

Time for a Commercial Break

Sprite Football Commercial...circa 1981. Yea, I know that lots of you weren't even born yet...

This was the summer before my senior year of high school. One of the guys on the football teams' mom worked in NYC for an advertising agency, and they were having a tryout for this commercial. So, a bunch of us got to the city and went to the tryout. They had us throw a football back and forth on camera for a minute, and then that was it.

A couple of days later, I got a call telling me that a bunch of guys on the team were going to be extras (players in green) and that I was going to be one of the stars. Cool shit!



So we get to this ball field on the outskirts of NYC and there's a caterer, cameras...all the crap you'd expect for the filming of a commercial. All of the preliminary stuff - the "practice" session was easy....oh, let's back up a minute. Like a week before the shoot, a bunch of us on the team were over at Monclair State College, using their new astro-turf field to run around and catch some passes. I totally blew out my ankle - the thing looked like someone attached a water balloon to my foot! I got a nifty running cast fashioned from some skilled athletic Doc, and was able to run at close to full speed in time for the commercial.

All that sweat in the practice scene....water spritzer. I was totally acting! Downing the Sprite - yea, that's real sprite. We even shot some scenes of me dropping a few passes - yea, I had to "act" like I couldn't catch...but those didn't make the cut.

The "game" sequence was the worst part of the day. Someone said we shot that "diving catch" scene nearly 100 times. The guy just could not put the ball at a diving catch position. I had a bruise on my hip the size of a volleyball. But it was all worth it. A very cool memory.

I did get some royalties and got paid for the day's work. The royalties actually kept me from having to work in my Senior year and I had plenty of dough for dates and such. The last contract I signed was for some air time in Hong Kong, of all places.

Oh, and that's the Bigun long before he was the Bigun. I'm about 205 there, tops. Didn't really start putting on the beef until late sophomore year in College. Good times.

Too much fun

Man, I love these new Jib Jab movies. I have to thank (or curse) Tea for hooking me up with this - since then I've created a bunch of heads, and find a new one or two (why haven't I gotten even with Tea yet?) to add every day. I should be doing other things. I'm addicted.

It all started with Diana and the Bigun doing some disco dancing. We got that one from Tea and couldn't stop laughing.

A couple days later, I went to the Jib Jab site, and cooked up a movie trailer starring Excel Man as the Maniac, and a bunch of extras getting sliced up. I then couldn't figure out why I hadn't had Tri-Dummy as an extra, so I added him in as a late entry.

That wasn't enough. I then had Nytro using too much force. I just thought she was perfect for the roll. Benny does a great chief, his JibJab head is just too perfect.

I tried, then, to put Trimama in a starring roll (is it roll, or role?) but I'll tell you what, finding a higher definition pic of Trimama is almost as hard as finding a suitable shot of Nytro.

Today, my friends over at Jib Jab added two more movies into the mix...so I got Blink to star in one, and Taconite Boy in the other. Those crazy kids.

I hope you got enough computer and band width to really enjoy these.

Amazing Adventures of Taconite Man

We interrupt this swim to bring you another Amazing Adventure of Taconite Man! Tac and the Tribe are casually eating their hearty supper prepared by the ever-so-hot Trimama, when TTK (Tri-Turbo-Kraut - keep up, people...) bursts through the front door...

TTK - Tac Man, its the signal, we got a mission!

TM - To the Tacmobile!

Trimama - Make sure you bring it back with a full tank! I got PTA tomorrow!

TM - Sure thing, shnookums...

Running to the driveway, Taconite Man looks up at the signal and stops.

TM - um, TTk - did you get a good look at that signal?

TTK - Sure TM...my goggles are a bit foggy from the 4 X 500 meter main set swim I was on, but I saw it just fine!

TM - that's the new Benny Signal...

TTK - aww, shucks, Taconite Man, you mean there's a new superhero out there?

TM - it's a competitive world, Tri-Turbo-Kraut - we need to work up a business plan and come up with some advertising if we are gonna keep our #1 Superhero status. What do you think of the Yellow Pages? TV is just way too expensive...do you think Trimama would let us sell the minivan?

Weekend Update

One Adam 12, One Adam 12, see the man...that's right, folks, we have a new MAN. Don't hate the man. You know you wanna be the MAN. Our ever-racing Clydesdale stud Sweet Baboo has his striped shirt on and rule book in hand, heading to a USAT-sanctioned triathlon near you as an official USAT...Official! What I don't get is the whole male-on-male motorcycle riding thing. I mean, spending a morning with your best bud on the back of his bike just screams GAY! Maybe it's just me. (and no, that's not Roman on the back of that bike, either..but it kinda looks like him...hmmm)

Ironman Wisconsin has come and gone, with no lack of race reportage and plenty of photo documentation of the event. Awesome job everyone. Some things are now more clear than they were before the race.

Greyhound's wife loves his ass.

Texafornia looks a whole lot like Steve Buscemi. Old Crazy Eyes! Oh, we here at Bigun Studios could have went another way...like using the pics of Jetpack and Tex frolicking on the ground on top of each other...but kids watch this show....

Ironman Official are on the lookout for whomever casued the deflation of a very valuable piece of merchandizing. In this photo obtained by Weekend Update, we think it was IronWil's freshly manicured Guido-like nails that did the trick. Or not.

As hard as Roman tries, he's just not going to fly

- he forgot his cape.

And speaking of capes, we have the venerable caped crusader Taconite Boy in the studio with us today. Welcome Taconite Boy to Weekend Update!

TB: It's Taconite Man.

Bigun: Excuse me?

TM: It's Taconite Man. I finished IMMOO, I saved the whole town of Madison from impending doom and almost certain certain power outage - now I'm Taconite Man.

Bigun: Sorry, it says here on the card Taconite Boy, I didn't mean anything by it.

TM: Good, 'cause if Trimama hears...

Trimama: What did he call you? That son-of-a-bitch Bigun - can't you get anything right?

Bigun: Really, I'm sorry - hey, tell us about those capes - you did a great job with those!

Trimama: Dont' be changing the subject with me, ya Ape. This man went 140.6 miles - no "boy's" gonna do that - it's "Man" for now on, you got it, or do I have to come over there?

TM: Thanks, dearest...I think he's got it..

Trimama: Don't "dearest" me, we still got to pay for all those cow print M-dot shirts you bought!

TM: Sorry.

Bigun: Ok, Taconite Man - great job. Trimama - please don't hurt me! Lets have a round of applause for the Superhero Iron-family...two Ironman, one pair of Iron Pants. Ehem...

In a related story, TriDummy raced across the IM finish line to be nary heard from again for weeks on end. He finally surfaced after a drunken, 10-state hell ride to be completely covered in fresh tattoos and hair. We now know that Tri-Dummy is Greek. Or he at least likes Greeks. Which explains a LOT. Check out this un-retouched IM tattoo - this is a Weekend Update scoop, folks, you'll see it first here! What is that? What? Copyright laws?!?! You guys get me a clear photo of that tattoo ASAP...uh, sorry folks, we seem to be having technical difficulties.

And in a final, heartwarming story, Blink, the Blinkster, Mr. Blink or Papa Blink, as his kids, the Blinkettes call him, finished his 52-mile ultra distance run last week in...well...it was uber-fast (almost let a fact slip in there). On the advise of the Bigun, Blink set out his journey with a pre-race banquet of donuts, kit-cats and a Coke (standard Clydesdale pre-race nutrition). His one-day Clydesdale card was in jeopardy of being revoked, however, his 170lb manliness bellied up to the table and did what was necessary to take the Clydesdale win and forever hold the Clydesdale world record at the Bohemian Alps Run. I'm so proud.

Jelly Donuts

A weird thing happened to the Bigun today. 2200 meters into a...longer swim...I developed an intestinal urgency, unlike any I've had on previous swims. Making matters worse, I was still 50m away from the side of the pool where the bathroom was. That was a long 50 meters.

The break took the wind out of my sails. I finished out the 2500m, did an extra lap for the heck of it and then ran back home. Maybe it was the run to the pool that did me in? My goal was to do that run-swim-run workout twice this week, and I did it. That was a long 3 mile run home.




If you are still with me, I have a question for you. Andra Sue has a thing for donuts, like, who doesn't, right? I mean, donuts are still good when you leave them in the box three days after you bought them! They come with thier own handles. Someone even made earrings out of them (I wonder if they are edible?)Stale donuts are better than, say, broccoli any day and twice on Sunday. Off topic, but at Dunkin Donuts, not only can you get the best treat known to man, but you can wash it down with the best coffe known to man.


So, my question for you is, when it comes to filled donuts, like jelly donuts or Boston Cremes, are you a "from the hole" or a "to the hole" donut eater?


I can see the rational for either. I'm a "from the hole" donut eater - I like to spin that bad boy around until I find the entry point of all that sweet, gooey wonderfulness and it's from there I take my first bite. If you start from the exact opposite end, well, sure you get a giant heaping first bite of jelly, but you also run the risk of said jelly shooting out of the hole and all over your hand, or skirt, or tie, or running shoes in the case of most of us.

You can tell a lot about the quality of a jelly donut from the first bite when it's "from the hole". If that first bite is sans jelly...that donut gets a big red slash from the judges. It's sorely lacking the amounts of jelly necessary to qualify as a standard jelly donut by Judge Bigun. Take that first bite, and the back side splits open with a bulge of raspberry jelly now in the palm of your hand...another red slash across the donut race number! Another jelly donut manufacturing faux-paux. Poor quality. Sub-standard. If you eat "to the hole", you can never really tell these things about the luscious delectable you grasp in your sugar and caffeine-induced quivering hands.

Or, you could be the kind of weirdo that just picks up the alleged aforementioned jelly donut and simply digs in, care free and unbeknownst to the whereabouts of the hole. You, my friend, have a lot to learn.

From the hole, baby...from the hole.

Bigun's New Lawn Nemisis

Bigun got some speed work in today. Yep, full on sprint work. It wasn't planned, of course. There I was, minding my own business, when right in front of me was my dear friend, the WASP. No, not the White Anglo Saxon Princess kind either (although I'm not sure which is worse...).

I was happily, if not sweatily (if that's a word) cutting the hedges of customer #1 for the day, when I must have disturbed a nest of wasps - now I've cut these particular hedges before, and no occupants existed during my previous visits. They gave away the attack with WASP #1 - he flew straight for my face, and with my cat-like reflexes, I backed up a couple steps and it was then I spotted the main attack. 15 to 20 of the flying stingers pointed my way, pissed off that I had so boldly tried to cut up their home.

Spying their main effort I quickly (in a nano-second) deduced that a hasty retreat was in order. Emphasis on HASTY. With no time for a warm-up, I dropped my still running hedger (safety first - Mom always said never run with scissors, especially the kind with horse power) spun on my right foot and launched with the left, straight down a little hill. Screaming might have come into play - if a tree falls in the forest - but I don't remember. In my ever-so-quick beat-feet-ed-ness I, of course, stumbled and barrel rolled a good 25 t0 50 yards from my point of launch.

Worried that my obstacle entanglement may have cost me a clean get-a-way, I counterattacked with my trusty, yet sweaty, baseball cap. Flailing in earnest around my head and shoulders, I swatted with random patterns to be sure to thwart their Kamikaze-like attack flights. Taking a quick inventory, I realized that I had no burning holes in my appendages; I had escaped Scot-free! The Wasp Commander must have known whom he was dealing with and sounded the recall of his attack squadron - I missed all that. I'm sure the little buggers got a good laugh...but when the owners bring in the heavy guns tomorrow - Raid or Raid-like products - I'll be the one with the last laugh!

No sooner had I packed my lawn equipment into the trailer when I noticed a bit of stiffness in my right quad...sure enough - I pulled something! Crimeny - now I have to stretch every morning before cutting grass on the off chance I have another fight-or-flight encounter with the Florida wildlife. This business just gets more and more interesting every day.

Taconite Humor-Muse

Ok, well, Taconite Boy - you can call him my muse. I try and get funny with his blog from time to time with the Amazing Adventures of Taconite Boy - you may have seen my work. Someday I'll have to go back and publish here, although I doubt anyone would find it as funny, out of context.

Anyway, so TB posts a really funny video.

I find it funny, but never leaving much alone, I came up with my own lyrics. They go along with the song fairly well - but really meant for TB and Trimama, one of the few racing couples I know.

Ahh, yea, that’s right baby, Girl, today we’re gonna triathlon…you know how I know? Cause it’s Sunday, and Sunday’s the day we race. Wednesday is our long bike day with a 45 min run off, but Sunday morning is Triathlon. Cause everything is just right, conditions are perfect. Walt Disney World is miles away, conditions are perfect.

You get up early and say something studly like, “I’m not sure how that oatmeal’s gonna feel in about 5hrs”; I know what you’re trying to say, baby – you’re trying to say, ooh, yea, it’s Business Time. It’s Business Time.

Refrain: It’s Business…It’s Business Time!

That’s what you’re trying to say, you’re trying to say Let’s Get Down to Business - its business time

Refrain: It’s Business…It’s Business Time!

Next thing you know we’re in Transition setting up our gear, that’s all part of it, that “pre-race”. Then you go make your 4th trip to the porto-let, that’s not part of it, but it’s still very important.

Then, were in the water! You’re wearing that baggy old, black 1980’s style wetsuit that you got for free when your tri-buddy got a raise and bought a sleek grey and red Quintano-Roo – but it’s never looked better on you. Oooh, old black baggy wetsuit’s gonna get it on in the water today! You just don’t know what you’re doing to me!

You remove that wetsuit but trip over it ‘cause you didn’t zip it down all the way, but you recover with a barrel roll and slip into T1. Next thing you know you’re down to your shoes and bike helmet, and you know when your down just your bike shoes and helmet what time it is…it’s time for Business! It’s business Time!

Refrain: It’s Business…It’s Business Time!

You know when you’re down to just your shoes and helmet that’s why they call them Business Shoes.

Refrain: It’s Business…It’s Business Time!

Ooh.

Racing hard. Racing hard for two….hours. When it’s you and an Olympic you only need 2 hrs, cause your so intense! Two hours in an Olympic is better than 3 hrs in an Olympic. You say something like, “was that it?” I know what you’re trying to say, you’re trying to say, “aaaah yea, that’s it!”. Then you tell me you want some more, and I’m not surprised. But now I’m tired.

Refrain: It’s Business…It’s Business Time!

Racing hours are over, baby…

Refrain: It’s Business…It’s Business Time!

Sweetness

I'm still wrestling with this "what do I call Brian (not Myles...) instead of Sweet Baboo?" thing. So now I've got this song in my head:

Sweetness

Sweetness I was only joking when I said

I'd like to bash every tooth in your head....

Sweetness

Sweetness I was only joking when I said

By rights you should be bludgeoned in your bed...

I think that's how it goes...anyway - Sweetness could be a possibility - in that song's context it has a certain ring to it. A certain charm. The song rocks - it could be a frontrunner in the IPod - should I ever get one.

Man how I used to love The Smiths - I'm about due for a rehash of all that good ol' 80's crap!

Of course, it is his nickname - his Moniker - who am I to question it, right? It's just that - he changed it, abruptly, and it's going to take some getting used to. Sweet Baboo. Sweet Baboo. Sweet Baboo. Maybe if I say it over and over again, it will grow on me.

And I don't know where this whole "bet the Bigun for the 101 win" came from. He's about 210lbs....I'm about 240lbs....hmmm, a bit of a discrepancy there. He's racing Clyde 2, I'm racing Clyde 3 - but who am I to get all technical about 30 lbs? He's a "tri-toddler" where I'm still a "tri-infant" - but why get bent out of shape about race and training experience? Sure, if Sweetness wants to bully me into a friendly wager around the 101 race - by all means, I'm not going to shy away from a challenge. I'm a glutton for punishment in that regard - I bet Excel Man dinner on St. Anthony's and he weighs about a buck 70...soaking wet.

Jees, I remember wrestling 170lbs in the 6th grade.

Monikers

It's an off week for me, and I really got little to say. Training - yea, a little. Working - yea, it's hot. Reading - yea, lots of good blog posts out there....ya'll are a thoughtful bunch. Granted, I'm easy - my thoughts revolve around food, boobs and my favorite TV shows (not in that particular order...). Oh yea, and some little Ironman event that's right around the corner.

We bought a bed last night. Ours has officially bit the dust - CRIMENY! My back is even starting to hurt, and it's effecting my swimming and biking now. New bed, pillow top, mid-line king size (I'm the Bigun, I need my space...) - we get it on Friday - really can't wait for a good night's sleep.

I think I have MY official moniker for Sweet Baboo - Boo-Man! Still has a little of the "Sweet Baboo" that his loving bride GG has tatoo'd him with , yet is masculine enough to be "nemesis-worthy". Say it out loud - "BOO-MAN"! I like it. Even when I'm cheering for him, like when he does IMKY in 33 days or so, I can yell, GO BOO-MAN! at IMLive and not feel all wierd like I do when I think of him as Sweet Baboo. Yuck.

All Aboard to Ironman Coeur d' Alene 2008 (With Edits)

Edited Again in July with new arrivals to the Party (17 blogger-racers and 10 blogger-support crew)! (I think this is it now)

This train's leaving from the station, and there's a party a goin on. An Ironman party. Who's all here, you ask? Well, we have the Bigun, obviously. Then there's two mystery guests, a man and a woman...(ok, we now have one Mystery Guest - and no, it wasn't Desiree - it's none other than Tri-Greyhound - he's next to the bar giving lessons on tying a bow tie to Bolder - unsuccessfully I might add...) didn't I tell you, this is a masquerade party, and somehow I got all the secret identities. The keeper of secrets - that's me. How I got to be the one, I got no idea....wait a minute, what's this? In a surprise move our other mystery guest takes off her mask - it's MOMO! Another Coeur d'Alene Vet joins the party, officially, and in a wise move proceeds two fisted over to Big J to keep him absolutely snockerd, lest he figure out that she was racing yet another Ironman! (I can't wait to meet Big J, btw - we's gonna have big laughs...)

Blink140pnt6 got his game on singing karaoke - what's that? A Star is Born? Sounds just like Barbra... Barbra Walters that is! Iron Eric's singing background - it's a good thing, not that Blink's got much better of a voice...

There's Sweet Baboo over in the corner getting hydrated on Gatorade and Cytomax - the guy's an animal! He's got Curly Sue on the couch and she's telling him all about her secret life of crime - well, it's not so secret anymore miss Ponytail Bandit (in case you are wondering, Myles is a shrink...).

Spokane Al is here, all healed up and raring to go - this train stops in his backyard - no funny business you - HEY Spokey, do you really think the Electric Slide is a good idea, I mean, you could pull something! Tending bar we have the Bold - Boldster, the Bold-one - the P-dawg Leader is in the house! CdA may not have chosen him, but he's got a dozen or more microbrews that have - before, during and after the race!

Accompanying Bold in the IMCdA'08 Cheering Section are veteran CdA racer IronBenny and Nytro - be nice, Nytro - hey look at you, I guess pink is the new black...Big Duane (seen here with Iron Eric) has got the beer bong out and is getting crazy, getting ready for a long day of cheering everyone on!

As if Colorado was not represented enough, DrBubba has joined the RAVE and has started his own mosh pit. I see Duane eyeing the fun...and the Bigun will stay clear thank you very much. Veteran Tri-Sherpa and all around great cheerleader Stronger (not to mention a kick-ass triathlete herself) is enjoying the more sophisticated tastes of Mojitos - who knew Bolder could whip those up from scratch?

T-guyJ's throwing around his weight and some custom T's - I really like the one's he's got with the hot chicks in bikini's airbrushed on the front.

Mrs Bigun's got on one I really like:

- you'll have to excuse us for a minute. Or two. Or just a minute.

Dread Pirate Rackham (cheerleader extraordinaire) read "the memo" - it ain't a party until someones nekked in the hot-tub - and proceeded to officially make it a party!

Myles just grabbed a t-shirt for Geek Girl - GG just joined the fray and will be racing - so Team Baboo will be hiring sherpas - they will be in great practice after they both do IMKY together this year!...

Sitting in a comfy chair, watching everyone, sipping a glass of wine and just taking it all in is IM Ultra-Vet IronJenny - cool as spring day, calm and collected, IJ knows perfectly well what's in store - for everyone who's racing - she'll be cheering hard for us all on this one... FE-Lady's got her own bottle of wine and is slow dancing with Mr. FE to Blink and Iron Eric's crappy singing.

TriDogMom is talking "pets" with Diana - I don't think it's safe to have two pet lovers in such close proximity - her hubby and Ironman veteran Iron Shane entered on a Community Slot - glad to have him aboard for the fun...The Bradster yells out, "Freebird!", and the whole crowd starts in with "If I stay here with you girl..." Tea yells, "the heck with that crap, lets do the Macarena!! (I've been dying to fit that in!).

Someone heard we were doing the Macerena and thought it would be good to sign up for CdA, just to do the dance with us. Johnny-Tri's got a Harley rental waiting in Idaho for some post-race riding activities...One of the last gals to join the party is Boomer - making up for lost time she's chugging beers faster than Will Farrell at a frat party.

Joining the CdA Support Crew are BigMike and J-Wim (they are scouting out the pain and suffering neccessary for thier '09 IM bids...); hey Bold, I think we need to tap a new keg! And none of that LaBatts Blue crap this time, thppppp eeeyucko! Even the Kahuna will be joing us for his 2nd Ironman bid - bringing his guitar and plenty of Tequila for the post-race victory dance. Well, sit.

What a party! Who's missing?