Well, the podcast has now been posted - so I guess it's time to keep my promise, whether anyone likes it or not. To start, if you'd like to check out the podcast and hear my wonky voice for an hour, have a listen right here:
As for an update, what can I say? I haven't posted in a few months. I've been keeping busy with work and life in general. I'm still in Niagara, still attempting to fix some health problems, still awkward as ever, and still flanked by my four-legged partner in crime (I mean Daisy, not some guy I'm dating with too many legs and a penchant for criminal activity. That means you, Hank.).
|A chick and her bitch. You decide who's who.|
I recently turned 33.
I'm about to move out of my current apartment, so mid-move I'm living in disorganized chaos which makes me crazy.
|If you don't know what these are, you're too young to be reading this.|
Some of my friends are getting married, some of my friends are having babies, some of your Kristens are giving serious thought to getting a new coffee maker. Hey, these are all real commitments.
That's about it. You're all caught up, without having to be too bored by the minutiae of the past little while. Woo hoo!
|This lovely lady is getting hitched REAL soon.|
In the months since I last blogged, I've half-written a few posts only to promptly forget about them and let them rot in my drafts folder - but maybe it's time to revive the site a bit. And speaking of reviving, I guess it's also time to further keep my promise and check in with my dear buddy Masuka.
Hey, Masuka! Tell the people (ok, the one reader I potentially still have...) what you've been up to. Attempt to keep it NC 17, por favor:
I've been getting old. My balls hang so low I can sit on them.
I have another baby on the way, the bonus is that my wife's breasts have increased from their already substantial size to the size of Chicago balls. If you're not familiar with that ball, a Chicago ball is a 16" softball that was first played in Chicago in the 1880's. A lesser man would have broken his wrist on those things, but I am a professional.
I'm in my 18th year of broadcasting and am considering calling it a career and doing something different. I feel that my talents in breast appreciation are going to waste in a medium where I can't talk about them without losing my job. As a result, I'm thinking of moving someplace warmer, where jackets can't hide womanly awesomeness. Less your readers think I'm a cheating ass, I assure you I am not.
I'm simply a pig.
Lots of love,
Who had bets on a breast mention in Masuka's update? Surely everyone did. We're all winners here.
|IMPORTANT NEWS - Beer is still my friend.|
So, there ya go. Vague updates from your shambled friends, and a promise for more posts. Ok, let's not call it a promise... how about an intention? I fully intend to post more, but I don't want anyone saying "but Kris, you promised!" You can't bitch about intent. Not that anyone would care enough to, but y'know. I cover my bases.
Or steal 'em headfirst like Pete Rose.
Til next time. Keep fit & have fun. (A reference that only fellow Canadians will recognize, but a reference nonetheless. Google is your friend, use it wisely.)