I was at the weight room today and there's some dude doing the buddy system with a lady 70 or so years of age. He also seems to be pushing her a bit too hard: "You can handle more weight than that".
* Strike one. Be gentle and treat old timers with respect *
He's talking loudly in the super-mp3 player decibel range and he's telling her everything she's doing wrong: "That's not how you stretch the hamstrings, you have to let the muscle fibers extend fully and then let them contract again!". Hah?
* Strike two. Don't broadcast yourself and be a show off. *
The clincher? Dude's shaped like the Pillsbury Doughboy.
* Strike three. Pushing Twinkies does not make you an expert in the gym. *
About Me
- Mick
- In 1968, a baby boy was born and his parents named him Michael. As a cute little zero year old, he had a little round nose and made gurgly noises. But, he also had colic which tired his mama out and his grandmother often rocked him to sleep. One night, while doing this, she nicknamed him "Mickey" and that is why people also call him Mick. He grew up in upstate New York in a place too remote to be called anything. There were a lot of bugs and his Dad yelled at him for using too many paper towels. Little Mickey tried to have fun playing war with his friends and shooting BB guns. He didn't apply himself very much in school and he graduated high school Magne Cum Lousy. One day in 1986 he discovered a lump in his neck which he promptly ignored for more than 6 months. As fate would have it, it was Hodgekin's Disease and after months of dicking around with inept doctors, he promptly underwent aggressive treatment involving brutal tests and chemotherapy. This lasted a year followed by many years of paranoia. This is where he learned to suffer and it payed great dividends. Now he teaches 13th grade at a college in Ohio where he suffers daily.
1 comment:
Did it ever occur to you that she could be his mother-in-law?
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