I enjoy Zack’s writing, and I also enjoy pictures of crazy people’s inventions, so I’ve been interested in this since it was announced. To support his endeavors, I swiped this from the somethingawful.com forums and altered it a tiny bit for promotional purposes.

I am pleased, and a bit nervous, to announce that My Tank is Fight! is now available for preorder from Amazon.com. Who the hell preorders a book? You, hopefully! Ever preordered copy of My Tank is Fight! boosts our sales stats through Amazon and will increase the exposure the book receives. I’m not expecting a number one seller from this book, but I’d sure like to beat out “A Grandmother’s Guide to Fonts and Borders”.

My Tank is Fight! is a humorous pulp-history look at more than 20 unusual or insane inventions of the Second World War. Each chapter features a detailed examination of the real history and technology behind each invention and all 19 chapters are linked by fictional narratives. The book is also lavishly illustrated, with 18 full-color illustrations by Josh Hass, and more than two dozen detailed black and white illustrations by Mike Doscher. My Tank is Fight! is not a dry analysis of the forgotten weapons of war, it brings those weapons to life.

My Tank is Fight! will be released on October 3rd and is available for preorder through Amazon.com. Amazon ships internationally so you foreigners should have no problem ordering a copy.

Please show your support and order the ultimate bathroom book for war junkies. My Tank is Fight! is also a great gift for:

• People who like tanks
• People who like airplanes
• People who like Hitler
• No, not that sort of people who like Hitler
• Single moms
• Single dads
• Single Hitlers

Remember, pre-order your 20 copies today! Get the word out!
Order it here: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0806527587/104-6804011-8993544?n=283155

International Links:

Germany
UK
France
Canada
 Japan

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I ran my second half-marathon on July 15th. Once again, it was hotter than a snake’s ass in a wagon rut, but I somehow managed to have a good day. I shaved 11 minutes off my time and felt pretty good for nearly the whole run. I was happy when I finished, and began to have high hopes for October’s marathon.

Then a double whammy of a heat wave and a cold knocked me off running for two weeks. This past Monday, I hit the road determined to get my mileage back to where it should be. Monday night I pounded out 7 miles. Wednesday I dropped it down to a quick four.

Saturday was the real test.

I headed out for my first four mile loop, then stopped back at the house for water. Joy hopped on the bike and I grabbed Tes and we did another four miles, looping back to the house. More water, and a gel pack, then off again [leaving Tes home].

Now, I’d lost a lot of steam around the 7th mile, so I wasn’t really looking too fondly at the prospect of this next loop. But Joy rode behind me and provided silent moral support. Silent because, well, I sure as hell didn’t feel like talking. But I got back into my groove around mile 10, just in time to ease back to the house in mile 12. Once again, I hydrated [and threw up a little] and we set out for the final loop.

I was beyond “lost steam” at this point. I think I was only moving forward because my legs had forgotten how to stop. That being said, I probably walked a half-mile total during the last 2.5 miles. My legs felt like I’d been given a steel-toe-boot beat down. My feet were convinced someone had smashed them with a sledgehammer. My ribs swore that a steel band was tightened around me. My mouth was twisted into a sneer.

Some old people backed out in front of me and I yelled at them.

I was in pure agony. There were no endorphins to make me feel better when I hit the 16-mile mark. I could barely walk. There was nothing left.

Well, nothing except for an intense craving for sour cream and chive potato chips. Man, those were good.

A few days ago I checked the Lakefront Marathon website to see how many people had registered. There’s a limit of 2500, and I think it showed 2478. I’d originally planned on waiting to see how that 16-miler went before I registered, but something told me I should do it right then. So I did. By the time I got home, registration was closed.

But hey, I’m in now. Nothing short of a broken body part will keep me from this race! (oh please, something break)

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