As I wrote on my New Year's Resolutions page, this sentiment applies beyond the scope of me: Restore, Retrofit and Retrowave: Outrun the Night. May it come to pass for you as well!

Yesterday was the hand wraps; today is the footgrips. OK, so I don't envision these playing too much of a role in my gym space, despite there was a time I trained barefoot, whether hammering on the heavy bag or atop the treadmill. But, who knows? Perhaps there remains a future function for floppy footwear, but for now, they're just delightful to wear around the house—makes me think I'm in a '70s kung fu film on a lazy, Saturday afternoon!

As you'll recall, after I tore down my deck by the strength of my crowbar and sledgehammer and debated on the merits of wood reclamation, I made a fire that any redneck would beam with proud in a storm shelter, a concrete bunker that is the former home to wasp and bird alike. You may also recall (if I remembered to write), that I made a fire so intense that concrete chunks were rocketing out the doorway!

Today had a bit of a finality to it as a couple fellas came out to the house with their equipment and smashed the reinforced concrete roof and filled the resulting hole. As someone who briefly considered shoveling up the dirt before employing my sledgehammer, I thought it was magnificent display of power. And yes, I only briefly considered using my strength of will to break it up because...well, again, my catalyst is not a telephone booth, but a cave.

Speaking of caves, I was interrupted from completing this post by a garage door repairman—oh the travails of a burnt motors!

That said, the stimulus check handed to me by the U.S. Congress is being put right back into my local economy. Among other locales, I used it to pay off the computer that I'm using to type this, for 6 classes on Udemy, Sanabul apparel for training and an assortment of after-Christmas deals on cologne sets as I continue with my 2021 experiment resolution of no deodorant...

...honestly, I'm getting the impression that with no sugars, a carnivore diet just doesn't smell much, and this in the context where when I don't have carbs, my ability to smell is an X-Men skill! I haven't read it anywhere, but I'm finding the lack of smell to be true in this week+ of disuse. I mean, what's the worst case scenario—I smell like bacon? Actually, that could get me more in trouble than that bottle of Eternity for Men coming in the mail! Mmmm...bacon.