This summer-like weather has taken me by surprise. While it’s wonderful to have the windows open in the house, to dispel the stale, stinky winter air, I’m not used to wearing my Chacos yet. If the straps aren’t adjusted properly there can be dire consequences. During my morning drive the big toe on my right foot felt like it was being strangled to death. But my big toe is the least of my worries. I can barely walk after yesterday’s workout. My personal trainer (again, can I point out what a bizarro world concept this is, that I have a personal trainer?!) really put me through my paces. Squats and lunges and some time on one of these new-fangled Bosu Balls. I felt so absolutely goofy on that thing, like I was going to fall on my face, or my ass, at any moment. And I’m still afraid I’ll find out I was secretly being filmed the entire time and that the video is making the rounds on the internets right this very moment with people everywhere busting a gut over my buffoonery. Whoa, paranoid much? I need to relax a little…and maybe cut back on the caffeine.
Bonus: Awright, maybe I shouldn’t find this as funny as I do, especially since my Dad is a cop, but it works so well because of the authority figure (though like Kevin said, it would have worked well with a clown too). Check out The Birdhouse.
Plus: The Gamines Love Gaiman
And: What does your apocalypse look like? (Spacey’s first MeFi thread)
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