Run for your lives. Or, drink beer.

Welp, Marathon Monday has come and gone. Thank you to anyone who may have donated to my friend Cory or to any of the marathoners. I know it's tough times in this economy; but like I always say, if you can afford to spend $7 on a shitty beer at the Bell 'n Hand, then you can afford to donate to charity. I literally always say that.

So, this was my first time at the marathon. I don't get Patriot's Day off, so normally I'm working on Marathon Monday. But I'm really glad I took the day off this year, especially since it was approximately 88 degrees. Not so much fun for the runners, but pretty fun for me.

I also made some awesome signs, though one of them was deemed "inappropriate" by my friends, which is total bullshit since I asked them if I could make it and only after coloring in the first word with permanent marker did they say, "Katie, you can't do that!" Clearly, they hadn't been listening to me.

Whatever.

I don't know why everyone is so afraid of the word "fuck." It's a great word. It really spices up your language. And, if you don't know the difference between a noun and an adjective, or what the FUCK an adverb is, then it's the perfect word for you.  "But there were kids at the marathon," you say.  Blah blah blah. You know what? Kids need to grow up.

Anyway, a lot of people were talking about how "inspiring" it was to watch the runners, but I can't say I felt the same. Mostly, I felt like a lazy piece of shit standing on the sidelines drinking beer from a solo cup while thousands of people ran 26 miles in 88 degree weather. I could barely run one mile in that weather. Or really any weather. Let's be real.