don't ever do a walking lunge, and other words of advice.
if there's one thing i love, it's mocking local television with my dad. we sit here, like we know everything, and obnoxiously comment on the innane amount of teeth the female newscaster flashes at the camera with every word. we watched a special on stretching, featured by our local news but really just pulled from the AP wire, which featured some trainer who said "walking lunges are the best way to have a moving stretch." of course, this propelled my knowledgable and perfectionistic father to scream at the television "WALKING LUNGES ARE. THE. WORST THING YOU CAN DO. THEY ARE THE WORST THING FOR YOUR KNEES. NEVER. EVER DO A WALKING LUNGE, MAGGIE!" so, some kids get life advice from their parents...i get workout tips, disguised with the tone of voice that many kids may hear when parents describe the dangers of alcohol.
my dad is now pounding a metal ruler into the coffee table with some sort of a beat. mom yells from down the hall, "BOB! KNOCK IT OFF!"
dog Buffy is laying under my legs here, panting and staring me down for my milk. bad dog. but good dog.
today at work: more mindless drivel. luckily i love my coworkers and the boss is out of town. when the cat is away, the mice tend to play.
"talk about a grill...you could put that on the front of a lincoln continental"--my dad, in our discussion about the poor newscaster's teeth.
mom: "gosh. i can't believe our family is coming to this." well, that was actually in reference to his "STEP OFF ME NUTS!" comment. which i taught him. sometimes, i wonder if i have more of a big brother in this guy. only sometimes. in most other times, not so much.
i am trying my damndest to work up the courage to go on a run around the neighborhood. last night, i decided to start running...problem was, i did it at about 8 thousand feet altitude, hahahaha which means burning lungs and me feeling like a really old fart.
i used to OWN this 'hood.
and i learned my gangster name is Blood Bath. my other one: Hambone. now you're terrified.
tonight: dawnald dewald fun.
right now: project runway. delicioso.
maybe soon: a run?
my dad is now pounding a metal ruler into the coffee table with some sort of a beat. mom yells from down the hall, "BOB! KNOCK IT OFF!"
dog Buffy is laying under my legs here, panting and staring me down for my milk. bad dog. but good dog.
today at work: more mindless drivel. luckily i love my coworkers and the boss is out of town. when the cat is away, the mice tend to play.
"talk about a grill...you could put that on the front of a lincoln continental"--my dad, in our discussion about the poor newscaster's teeth.
mom: "gosh. i can't believe our family is coming to this." well, that was actually in reference to his "STEP OFF ME NUTS!" comment. which i taught him. sometimes, i wonder if i have more of a big brother in this guy. only sometimes. in most other times, not so much.
i am trying my damndest to work up the courage to go on a run around the neighborhood. last night, i decided to start running...problem was, i did it at about 8 thousand feet altitude, hahahaha which means burning lungs and me feeling like a really old fart.
i used to OWN this 'hood.
and i learned my gangster name is Blood Bath. my other one: Hambone. now you're terrified.
tonight: dawnald dewald fun.
right now: project runway. delicioso.
maybe soon: a run?