The one pervading wisdom of the human race has to be “Tempus Fugit.” Time Flies, they say, and they’re right. A minute ago, the summers lasted aeons.

I blinked my eyes, Jr. High. I blink again, High School. Again, College. Then working, then 400 pounds, then China. Here’s where whoever’s driving the [...]]]>

The one pervading wisdom of the human race has to be “Tempus Fugit.” Time Flies, they say, and they’re right. A minute ago, the summers lasted aeons.

I blinked my eyes, Jr. High. I blink again, High School. Again, College. Then working, then 400 pounds, then China. Here’s where whoever’s driving the Time Bus decides to get stupid.

The last time I had to really reflect, I had just fought in the US Open, 336 lbs – can’t wait to tell you more about that by the way – and after another blink, I’m married, a hundred lbs lighter, and now THREE kids, two of whom speak two languages and one who’s already taking digital pics. Weren’t you just in diapers?

This is not my beautiful wife – this is not my beautiful car. The phrase should really be “Tempus Propero,” or “Time Accelerates.” Because not only is it pulling us through existence at an astounding pace, it’s getting faster.

And faster. I guess there’s nothing to do but hold on to each other for dear life.

That song “100 years” is depressing as hell (“I’m 33 – for a moment,”) because it covers an entire life in three minutes. But when it’s all done for us, will it feel even that long?

In the last conversation with my Grandma Burnie, I told her time flies. She sighed, and replied, “Where did it all go? In my head, I’m still nineteen.” She was eighty.

After you have kids, and when you come up from dank diaperage to breathe fresh air, you feel really mortal. I’m blessed, happy, fulfilled, even.

However, and unfortunately, as they say: This, too, will pass. Drink it up, men, it’s long after ten.

Her newest brother is officially late, so it looks like we’ll induce tomorrow. If all goes well, I’ll meet you back here soon!

I arrived in HK safely with my buddy Igor, still fasting and relatively intact.

I never thought eating would fill me with [...]]]> long post means much has happened. I’ll keep it as brief as I can – wife is waiting and kids are finally asleep. Don’t make me spell it out.

I arrived in HK safely with my buddy Igor, still fasting and relatively intact.

I never thought eating would fill me with such trepidation. Nay, let’s call it abject fear. In my mind’s eye, I pictured myself instantly regaining all the weight I’ve lost (111 lbs) in a flurry of tearing clothes and fart sounds. It didn’t happen.

wife was SHOCKED when she saw me. Tatiana didn’t recognize me, but knew me by my voice. She gave me a big, if hesitant, hug. And my 6-month-old son thinks I’m hired help. I caught my wife’s shock on tape. She then spent the next few days trying to convince me to refatten back to 280 lbs. Fat chance! (sorry about that one.)

two great tastes that belong together.

there are many ways to protect one’s yard.

Under “Seasonal Fruit Dishes”, they list brands of cigarettes. “These strawberries taste like grandma’s tracheotomy hole!”

Hong Kong at night wins. hands down.

My nephew is the talk of the town. He is cleaning up in the new year red-envelope-grab.

This sounds like a Sikh Food Fight.

then what the hell is a bargain for?

it’s only a store, fokker.

he’s still the man here. That makes me The-Man-In-Law.

If this reads right to you, try again. All Aboard!

even at my goal weight, I may never be that flexible.

I missed them like one would miss a lung.

what would make someone walk by this bin and say, “Honey? How about we stay in and fry up some scorpions?”

Should the next word be “here” or “elsewhere?”

I wouldn’t dream of it…

Best. backpack. ever. It also doubles as a hamper.

When your product is food, aren’t quality and taste the same exact thing?

northern chinese bum, writes long missive in chalk, expects rewards, gets zero. In the US he’d already have been in two Soundgarden videos.

My expat friend Mark in HK. His Mandarin makes my Cantonese look like your Basque. He took us to the best dumpling place ever.

so what am I supposed to do: get in the way?

i love how the logo is two yellow spheres nestled close together. In fact, I really love it.

Corn with Beacon? You’re insane! And while we’re at it, just toss out a WTF? for each of the other pizzastrosities. And only here would Buttered Toast be in the same category.

That last sentence shits all over English Grammar.

the 80s are IN here, BIG TIME.

I wonder if they know that 361 degrees is another way of saying 1 degree. Well, in a circle, anyway…

Still waiting – okay, wrapping this up…

exercise the power NOW

I might have to get this on a poster – what the hell else do you use your brain for? ballast?

In Mong Kok – the word throng just pales.

This one has it all – a vague yet intriguing command, a little-used-in-Amwerican-English word, and an evocative but mildly disgusting mascot. Good Times.

I leave them for a few months, and my daughter learns an entire language, how to ride a bike, and good manners. I have several bachelor friends who should come here and do the same,

I love what this picture is saying. I also love the composition. And the people who made it. It just makes me happy.

ah, what a happy family!

going to start posting some of my favorite pics from years past. I hear nostalgia is common in your early [COUGH] thirties.