Today I was awoken by my longtime nemesis, the road race, more specifically a marathon.  Now, I am all for people getting up way too fucking early and running distances that are unhealthy for the human body in honor of battles fought 2500 years ago, we all can see why that’s important, what I have never understood is why they require people on megaphones shouting encouragement while Moves like Jagger plays in the background.  I don’t understand the mechanics of running enough to really get why a bunch of middle aged suburbanites forming drum circles and playing the summer hits of 4 years ago helps people run 26 miles but it must because otherwise you’d have to be an asshole to pump My Humps outside my bedroom window at 6 AM.  No one would play that song if there wasn’t a damn good reason, right?  Anyway, you are probably wondering what this has to do with my post today and the answer is nothing, sometimes it’s just fun to bitch.  I’m cranky, it’s early, and I can barely hear myself think because right at this moment Super Bass is playing so loud my ears might bleed (for the third time! If you’re going to blast music can’t you get more than like 12 songs?  Christ a Shuffle holds like 100!).  So I guess… I want to rush to Kelly Brook’s comforting arms?   I don’t know, I am sure there is something really twisted and Freudian that I could write about finding comfort in the bosom of whatever, the simple fact is I have been poking around for pictures this morning and today I want to fuck Kelly Brook.