- Instead of music, on long drives I prefer to be spoken at by way of a sterile non-fiction historical audiobook. I find it less physically draining.
- Those donut shaped travel neck pillows do absolutely nothing for me in terms of comfort, but lots for me in terms of frustration.
- When traveling long distances in the car, I partake in a game I like to call “Eat It, Fatty”. The rules are as follows: if I think I might be hungry in an hour or so, I immediately pull over to the most disgusting fast food restaurant available and eat myself into partial blindness. ‘Tis a gentleman’s game.
- My father, once the greatest driver known to mankind, has lost his touch on the road. Although another might feel sad watching a parent’s skills fade with age, I celebrate my triumph as the new best driver in the family!
- My levels of arrogance and insecurity are off the charts, and tend to manifest themselves in judging and quiet name-calling, especially when surrounded by top tier athletes. This could probably be left off the list, as this is what my grandmother would call old news, but the point is they’re stupid.
- Still got it, old boy is a phrase I think to myself in order boost self confidence after a woman makes any sort of eye contact with me – even if she is just telling me to move out of the way of the triathletes about to run me down as I unknowingly stand in the middle of the course.
- I lump most southern states into the same geographic pile and when told that someone has driven nine hours from South Carolina to Alabama, I respond with “Really? I had no idea it was that far. I thought two hours maybe – two and a half tops.” I believe some people refer to this as ignorance.
- Although my father can best me in the traditional triathlon (swim, bike, run) I can mop the floor with him in the Steak ‘n Shake triathlon (burger, fries, shake).
- My biggest fear is that one day I will wake up alone, unhappy, and morbidly obese.
- Given my current lifestyle choices, there is no question that one day I will wake up alone, unhappy, and morbidly obese.
— Yours, PS Fairman