The best thing ever happened the other day.
Mr The Rake is Mr The Rake for a reason, right? He really values his privacy (and, as you can imagine, loves it when I post ridiculous and compromising photos of him).
The other day, he answered his phone at work, and used his full name. The caller, who was a complete stranger, immediately said
oh, it’s the famous Mr Rake
Guess who sent a panicky text message and asked me to go and review some of my blog posts?
I hope everyone he works with now reads this. If you are from Mr The Rake’s work, you can check out his greatest hits here, including YOLO, Why you will Die Alone or other favourites in the Top Posts section.
Cool. Enough plugging Mr The Rake. I know you want more, but he’ll come back, I promise. Actually, he came down to Canberra with me last weekend. As spectators go, he tries, but when I arrived at the finish line, he was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t surprised given that he’d arrived home at 3am and woke me up by continuing to pick up and drop his coins all over our friend’s kitchen sink (don’t worry, I got his sorry, hungover bum back by waking up at 5am and turning on all the lights).
Point is, when I got to the finish line, he wasn’t there.
He did, however, turn up just as Superwoman crossed the finish line. He was holding a washing basket full of bedding.
That’s a whole story in itself.
Mr The Rake will not, however, be attending my half marathon tomorrow.
Yeah. I’m super smart and decided to go again when the opportunity arose. Having never raced a half marathon, I’m doing two on back-to-back weekends. Should be fun.
Fun is a strong word.
Wish me luck?
Superwoman, superman, Va and I headed out to the Fitness Expo today. It was like being 3 years old and going to the show again. Except more full of protein, fake tan and large chested, chicken legged men with small, dumb eyes.