Tuesday, January 11, 2011

New Invention

I have a new invention. It's called "Shower Pilates", and I do believe this one will revolutionize the industry.

I love long showers, but feel fleeting guilt about wasting water.

I hate exercising, but not being able to fit into my clothes isn't the turn on you might think it would be. I also loathe not only having to find the time to exercise, but having to find the time to shower post feeble attempt at health.

"Shower Pilates" totally solves these problems. I can stay in the shower for 30 minutes without guilt, and I don't have to waste additional time exercising. When I'm done, I will already be clean. Genius! Genius, I say!

Sure, there is some threat of slipping, falling and dying while trying this, but that's a risk for me just walking across my living room.

Cant wait to hear the Patent Office's thoughts on this one.

Sunday, January 09, 2011

My Ass is Lifting

My ass is lifting.

Clearly believing that you hang on my every thought, word and action, I felt the need to bring this to you immediately. My ass is lifting. I do believe it is a result of these technologically advanced shoes from Skechers. I mean, I'd like to believe that I'm aging backwards for the next 20 years, but more a more likely cause of this miraculous occurrence is the wearing of the shoes designed to do just this.

Somewhat less miraculous, is the fact that while my backside is lifting, my front side is falling. I'm not sure if it is some sort of cosmic balance, but the stomach and breasts are heading further south—kind of like really big birds that just got the message about migrating to Florida for the winter. This I will blame on the cruelties of life, the lack of aging backwards technology and that I never got my wish of being Samantha on "Bewitched". I could blame the fact that I've been eating like I'm still two weeks pre-Christmas (complete with "what the hell—it's a holiday" attitude), but that really seems more like taking responsibility for my actions. I've already done that once this week after an unfortunate incident at work (perhaps having something to do with my review/compensation), so I've clearly met my quota for grown-up behavior.

Hank Moody would be proud. And then repulsed.

I wonder if Skechers makes girdles.