Look at me I’m skiing! Oh wait, I guess I’m just walking… like a douchebag.
Sure, walking is pretty extreme on its own, but add some fucking ski poles and suddenly you’re the (insert name of famous skier here because I don’t know any) of the neighborhood walking club. With enough practice, you might even make the Olympic walking-around-the-suburbs team!
One time, I was Nordic pole walking and I saw this deep crevasse up ahead. I mean this thing was at least 4 inches deep and a foot across! I was thinking maybe I should pole my way across the street, you know for my own safety, but something in me said, “Go for it, fucking go for it dude.” So I approached the gaping crevasse without fear because I had my poles! I approached the edge of the great hole, sweat pouring into my eyes, and planted my poles. Suddenly it was as if I was weightless and I found myself sailing over the abyss. I’ve never felt so free!
Unfortunately, I misjudged my jump and fell on my face. I was so mad because I ripped my best walking pants. Stupid poles.
WHOOPS! All day yesterday I thought it was Friday. Guess what I don’t do on Friday? That’s right, I don’t share my hilariously important opinions on Fridays.
So everyone loses! Well, maybe we all won.
I feel that I owe you something, so here’s further proof that God hates parkour and does his best to sterilize all who participate in it.
Happy Birthday America! You are the best and never do anything wrong!
I accidentally ate half of a Pizza Hut pizza last night and it led to a series of events that prevented me from writing anything. BUT, I have been meaning to point you in the direction of some older posts, so I will do that now. Not because the posts are all that great, but certain topics have become magnets for excessively dumb comments. I’m sure most of you regulars don’t both digging back into past comments, but you might enjoy some of the conversations you have been missing.
If I ever catch my child participating in anything that remotely resembles parkour or “free running” I am going straight to the nearest antique tool dealer, buying the largest, rustiest pre-civil war saw they own, driving back home and cutting his feet off. I’m serious, if I so much as see that kid walking on a curb or staring at a wall longingly, he can kiss those tootsies goodbye. Sure, he will complain about how “mean” I am blah blah blah, but what kid doesn’t bitch and moan about their parents? He will thank me later when he’s watching all those douchebags jumping around and falling on their faces, safely from the comfort of his wheelchair. He will look down at his gnarled stumps and think “Thank the good Lord above that I’m not wasting my time on this shit.” He will roll off into the setting sun to the sound of zitty teen faces slamming against the pavement and whisper “Thank you dad.”
Thanks to Jonathan for tipping me off to this Parkour scene from The Office!
If you are anything like me, these parkour accidents will give you a boner.
