Summer is finally here. And I have some handy tips compiled in a short list for losing that winter weight fast. Five to be exact - not ten or twenty - that is so 2005. At any rate, after months of being stored under the stairwell, I got out the bike, lubed it up, and checked all the linkages. Gears shifting smoothly, check. Brakes, check. Proper tire pressure, check. I'll take it out for a test spin. Just peddle around a couple miles. No problem. It'll be good exercise.
I carefully carry the bike out through the front door and out onto the porch. I lock up, suit up, and I'm off down the street. I am pedaling away like a 10-year-old with boundless energy. Thrusting my right foot in front of my left as if I am floating on air. Oh, yeah, this is easy. Seven months since I've ridden and I am like a god on wheels.
The breeze feels great as I am rolling by houses, whisking around cars, and passing the occasional person out mowing their lawn or watering their flowers. They stare at me in awe. I nod in appreciation, as I flicker by, briefly touching their lives with my magic. I think I hear the Chariots of Fire theme music playing in the distance.
I approach a brunette girl with long legs in her short shorts, tank top, and platform sandals walking her dog. In between her dog jerking her forward every now and again while it sniffs the ground looking for a perfect tree to water, she gazes at me longingly over the rims of her sunglasses. Her big beautiful eyes scan my body. My good eye scans hers. Arr! Her wavy hair blows suggestively across her bosom. Her thighs are taut and shapely. And just a hint of sweat glistens on them. Oh, we are a pair of magnificent beasts in this concrete jungle.
Water.
Suddenly it starts to get really warm. I find that I am struggling to make my legs move. They feel like dead weights. I look down just to make sure they are still there because I cannot feel them anymore. They're still spinning, but not quite as furiously as before. My thrusts are getting less and less powerful as I start to run out of gas. I begin to sputter (the only noise emanating from my mouth at this point.)
Good grief, what I wouldn't do for a bottle of water right now.
I'm sweating profusely as my unicycle bounces up and down with each pump of the pedal. The chin strap on my helmet becomes tighter as it gets soaked with my sweat. I can feel my socks slipping down further into my shoes. Minor annoyances that can be dealt with accordingly...possibly through medication.
Fercrissakes. My head is pounding. Everything starts to turn white. I'm weaving precariously along on this death trap. I must look like I'm in a drunken stupor trying to ride such a contraption. Some little kids are shooting at each other with water guns. As I pass by I crane my neck watching them, envious of the delicious life-giving water they are so nonchalantly wasting.
Good grief! What I wouldn't give for them to shoot me in the face with their water guns right now.
I nearly crash into the curb and a tree as my tongue is lolling around outside my mouth. Slobbering all over myself, I squander the last few dribbles of moisture left in my body. My tongue takes on the appearance of shoe leather as it dries in the hot wind, and my entire mouth develops what can only be described as the consistency of sandpaper. And I think to myself, "what I wouldn't give for a cool breeze again.
...or a godforsaken mouthful of water."
Since I'm thinking and all...my mind wanders onto the subject of how much I need WATER. Where are those damn kids with the squirt guns at again? Oh my god. Global warming is really happening isn't it?! Looking behind me, trying to find those ungrateful rugrats that were wasting all that precious water, I realize I'm wobbling all over the place. I literally have no direction. I spin around and around endlessly in circles. How wonderfully dizzying it is as I wander in and out of consciousness.
Just a capful...a sip of water please??
My head is frying in the hot sun. I feel like I am going to pass out. I am literally choking now. Gasping for air. But there is no air left around me since my gasping has sucked all the available oxygen out of my immediate vicinity. My lungs feel like they are going to implode. My legs and back are aching. I have a cramp in my neck -- just like those times I get cricks in my neck while chilaxing in front of the television -- I have no choice but to learn a new way to slouch as to not aggravate my new found condition.
Like all couch dwellers experience at some point in their couch dwelling careers, I begin to realize that exercise is bad for you. Why, for all practical purposes the environment outside is dangerous enough to cause serious injury or death. You have a 4000% higher risk of being hit by a motor vehicle, 3 times more likely to be attacked by dogs, 5 times more likely to fall and sprain or break a limb, and nearly 50 times more likely to be struck by lightning. Heaven only knows how likely you are to be mugged or shot. And let's not forget that you can die from dehydration and exposure!
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
Sweet Jesus in a smoking birchbark canoe. I can't take anymore of this. I need to lighten up. At the end of my block I turn around and go back home. That's enough exercise for the summer. Forget taking up exercising (obsessive or otherwise). To lose weight fast I'm going to work harder at the following:
Don't eat (unless it's a liquid diet consisting of nothing but Maalox and alcohol.)
Discover bulimia.
Smoke crack.
Get liposuction if I ever hit 350. With the proper tools, I can even do it at home like this person did!
Drive everywhere I go in a most inefficient fuel burning air conditioned car with a carbon footprint big enough to kick my astronomical gravitationally challenged butt into next week.
When urinators go bad [Asinine]
6 minutes ago
15 Comments:
It's easier to lose weight when you're being chased by predators. I've never seen a fat wildebeest.
Cycle past a pack of bloodhounds with a raw steak in your pants and you'll be slim in no time.
But where can I find one, lil alone
an entire pack of bloodhounds? Perhaps any pack of wild dogs will do? Also, if I had swamp crotch, such as I did on this particular adventure, could it be a substitute for raw steak? Should I bring water next time? Why is my butt chapped? What time is good to find a pack of wild dogs searching for unicyclists and postal workers to maul to death? Is there some kind of migratory patterns wild bloodhounds follow? Am I forgetting anything?
p.s. that seems like too much work. I'm gonna stick with my plan.
The gorilla is right; get a juicy sirloin steak and stuff it down your pants. Don't worry about the hounds; they'll be onto you like junkie in a meth lab. The rest is a pure cardiovascular workout.
@VoteElGavino: But Der, I already have a juicy steak down my pants. It's not helping. What should I do? I can't feel my left arm, it's gone numb, and I have pain in my chest. Do you think I'm having a heart attack? Should I call Ask-A-Nurse? I'd call Kevorkian but he just died recently.
@VoteElGavino: But Der, I feel happy. I no die.
UPDATE! I thought my heart stopped, so I gave myself a jump start this morning by taking a bath with the t.v. set. And I feel great! Plus I didn't miss Regis and Kelly - yay!
i ride a bike everyday. the exercise is great but it's always nice to have a back up plan for the next time the cops take my driver's license away.
@ Billy: Got into the inhalants again, eh? It's a good thing you have the Big Wheel on standby. As for me, all I have for a Plan B is rollerskates...fml.
You sure describe it well!!
Who says crack or bulimia need to be fads of yesteryear. Crack will always be popular & bulimia doesn't have to go down with the late 90's. Bring em' back with a vengeance.
@ALollipopWorld Some things can never go out of style. I'm bringing 'em back 'cause I know how to party. Besides it's my burpday, I can tweak like a freak with puke all over my face if I wanna.
You sure describe it well!!
Who says crack or bulimia need to be fads of yesteryear. Crack will always be popular & bulimia doesn't have to go down with the late 90's. Bring em' back with a vengeance.
@ Thomson Discount Code: Monkey see, monkey do. You spamming sack of oozing spam goo.
p.s. that seems like too much work. I'm gonna stick with my plan.
*rolls eyes
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