Gym Buddies
Dear Lady on the Treadmill to the Left of Mine
Are you imagining yourself gambolling through a field of saucer-eyed bunnies while flying an improbably large kite emblazoned with an advertisement for corned beef? You certainly look like you are. Maybe it’s just indigestion.
Are you wondering whether you have the business acumen to run a successful gym that caters exclusively for people called Jim? I know I am. It’s a niche market. I would race you to the patent office, but I see that your treadmill is going faster than mine and your trainers seem to be more effective than my flippers. Also, this snorkel is making it hard to breathe and the towel is coming undone from around my waist, so I’m going to need to stop soon and have a cup of tea. I find it tricky, pouring tea into the top of a snorkel, don’t you? If you’re nearly finished, could you come and help me? It’ll save me having to take off the boxing gloves and you can show me photos of your enormous kite.
7 Responses to “Gym Buddies”
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Dampsquid is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License - nonsense demands to be free! (but it's always nice to be referenced).
Gasping, are we?
I think I saw you at the gym, but dismissed it as my usual oxygen-deprived hallucinations. Apologies. Also, you need a bigger towel.
As I actually am a hallucination, that probably was me. Also, as a hallucination, my towel is only as short as you want it to be… pervert.
That would make a great mural.
The only thing worth pouring through a snorkel is tequila
The coroner’s report concludes: “Death by suffocation arising from lime-obstructed snorkel tube” and in a footnote, laments the difficulty of affixing toe tags to flippers.
This post brought a broad smile to my face here at work. I love how this one becomes progressively more outlandish. And then brings it all back home.