April Fool? Or Wii Schooled?

So yeah... Feyoncé™  and I were talking about if we had ever fallen victim to full blown April Fools Day trickery.

I recalled a hazy memory of my sister's failed attempt to cover my dad's toilet bowl with clear plastic cling wrap, but I could have dreamt it. I'm not very accurate when it comes to childhood memories. (Self-preservation, perhaps? Just kidding, Mom).

So we basically had a brief, not noteworthy conversation.

I said that I thought the trickery part of the day only went until 11am or noon or something, and Feyoncé™  thought that I was trying to trick him. I honestly thought that was true.

Anyway, turns out I got fooled on April 1st.

I turned on the Wii Fit balance board... and the goddamn thing said
"Balance... Board... Not... Working"... and I starting thinking, aw fuck shit crap darn, I don't want to have to pay to get the damn thing fixed, I wonder if there even is somewhere to get it repaired... will I have to ship it somewhere...?

And then it pops on a damn star hat and says "April Fool's!!"

This appeared word by word... effectively schooling AND pissing me off at the same time. Goddamned Wii.

So, I got jacked by a bloody children's game accessory. (After getting chin electrocuted once before... I think it's out to get me).

Then? Was supposed to visit with a friend, went out to my car in the garage, and realize I had left the trunk open for two days.

BATTERY.COMPLETELY.DEAD.

So I had no boost, no jumper cables, and no one to help me push the car out of the garage.

SO I freakin' inadvertently played an April Fools joke on myself. Awesome.

It only stung for a moment.

And yes, I realize it's mid-May.

I'm just MIA and scrounging Blogger for unfinished draft posts. Thanks Blogger!

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Recumbent Bike From Hell

I have a feeling that when I say I don't care much for exercise, I am not alone.

I mean, don't get me wrong... I know it's really good for me, I want to maintain a  somewhat  not-really-even-close  pretend  healthy body, it's crucial to my well being, and I  DO  don't want to exist as a couch potato.

But it's SO HARD to motivate myself to exercise. The 30-Day Shred has now become the 90-Day Shred (every third day... you do the math! HA!). It's almost approaching the 120-Day-I-Exercise-Sporadically-Not-Quite-"Shred".

I have a wedding dress I must fit in to, but I hear the Hershey Eggies and Cadbury Mini Eggs calling my name. The Bulk Barn had me on a watch list.

So I decide to mosey on down to a little hole-in-the-wall gym.

It's desolate. It has random tables throughout. It has some ancient gym equipment.

And two recumbent bikes (what, don't judge, a regular bike is NOT a woman's friend. It hurts the junk. There, I said it).

NORMAL person recumbent exercise biking? riding? cycling.

I get my gym gear on. I try to do some Jillian Michaels' warm-up moves by memory. Big muscle-y dudes are watching and judging me. I fail with my memory recall, and half-ass my moves.

I am quite certain I look like I am mildly challenged.

So not PC, but yet, so accurate.

I proceed to the recumbent bike, I get on, adjust the seat.... and find there are no fucking foot straps to hold my feet in.

Seriously?... REALLY?

Who presents so much of a threat to themselves and a gym's insurance policy, that they require restraint-less foot pedals on a bike that doesn't have direct downward gravity on its side?

For once, not me.

For the next 35 minutes, I struggle to keep my feet from flying off the foot pedals.

I was water bottle-less, watching eleventeen year olds silently batting eyes at each other and holding hands on a muted television tuned to MTV, while they pumped 106.1 K-Lite FM radio in the background.

The soundtrack to my workout?

Kissed By A Rose, by Seal.

Christ.

With a little more "light hits from the 80s, 90s and today" and a little less cowbell/enthusiasm/interest. And slightly less feathers.

This is why I hate exercising.

That is all.

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*Blogger Intimidation

No, I don't actually mean the host of our little corners of the interwebs.

I mean other Bloggers.


I have been expanding my reading list and finding new bloggers (somewhat randomly) and I am realizing that the more hilarity I read from other people, the more idea-less/writer's block-full I seem to be.

Sometimes a good idea will hit me while I am on the toilet, or in the car,  and  or just about to fall asleep, and I make a fleeting, useless mental note to start a draft when I am back at the computer.

That never happens, so instead, you get photos of my junk drawer. Literary genius, I say!

Then I read other people's blogs and see how funny they are and feel like I might as well roll up shop, draw the metal bars across the windows, pack my stuff up and go do something productive OFFLINE. *GASP*

Source: SomeECards

I've been "getting around" to vacuuming upstairs since... uh... forever ago. Not doing so well there.
Gaining weight? Actually doing well, thankyouverymuch.

Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you other bloggers stopped being so damn funny/engaging/witty/quick/crazy. It would make it A LOT easier on me.

Or ALOT easier (thanks Allie Brosh):

The above is the work of Allie Brosh from her awesome blog Hyperbole And A Half.

Off to go try to be creative...

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