윤

The Sony’s wore like how I imagine clip-on piercings would, and crapped out like the other $20 disposables, and while I was comforted by the thicker gauge of the Apple in-ear buds, their pendulous weight is unavoidable. So if not for this nagging cough, I’d be reporting back on these Sennheisers, whose cost I justify with an unheard-of two-year manufacturer’s warranty. Cords still look flimsy, exposed as they are in a wraparound track that’s twice the size of the Nike design, but I like how its first “section” is just the right length to my upper arm, and I can do without the rest. The question remains: can I even run anymore?

Has it been ten years since Chris got me the Phillips-made Nike-branded headphones that restarted my need for running music? That first pair seemed to have lasted the longest, the stethoscope-like fit the most comfortable and capable, while the lifespan of its subsequent replacements has shortened geometrically: yesterday the latest, which I had hoped for better in the newer Black color, conked out after only a month of sporadic use (my Mountain Dew ratio is approaching 60K). Always in one ear, always in the first mile. We’ll see how long my remaining inventory, courtesy of my purchase-return cycle at Fry’s, lasts before I switch to Sony’s.

I wonder what it must’ve been like to kill off the last 白鱀豚, knowing that you’ve outlived an entire species? I certainly hope it was worth completing that shipment of Nikes or whatever.

…unless I bump my “IMAGES” one again, which’ll make it one less. No wait, that was last updated in December. And since I tire of restricting entries to single topics, here’s the month-end wrap-up:

Cartoon Network’s The Brave and the Bold, which doesn’t make me forgive them for cancelling Justice League, but almost does, as long as they keep ’em coming with scenes like last night’s “Brain vs. brawn” that must have been inspired by Doom Patrol’s; beats Battlestar Galactica’s season-filling politics, that’s for sure
Two months into my fitness program, I’m 13,782 calories behind and my Nike+ sensor just died
That awesome giant shoe (really, Reuters, an “Oddly Enough”?), like something out of Monty Python or Hitchhiker’s Guide, went up then came down, quickly dashing the chicken hawks’ predictions of monuments to Bush in Iraq
Grant Morrison’s crisis is finalized; Batman may be the shit, but Superman is God. Again
Fuck the $100 wireless adapter, I got sharing to work, and the Xbox 360 lives again—well, for as long as people supply me with codes for free months of Live
윤대섭 is a septuagenarian today

It’s been longer since I backslid than I stayed dry, but the effects of my daily vice are undeniable, so my latest undertaking is to run off all (and only) those calories, as determined by the Nike+ counter:

Here’s the BBC’s version, except instead of exercise it translates your consumption into jaffa cakes. And in related news, because even with a fascination with British culture from childhood (bolstered mainly by the naked women on Benny Hill), I’m at a loss what a “jaffa” cake is, SGW looks doomed.

[Update: That “CALORIES TO BURN” formula should be =E3-B3+F2, not =E3-F2, wtf was I thinking. A subconscious attempt to cook the books?]