I can’t stop laughing at this, so clever, true and hilarious. Thanks, cigarman!
At exactly one point three-three miles into my workout, according to my GPS app, I kicked a freakin’ root. I wasn’t paying attention to the rock and root strewed path…I was paying attention to a half-dozen Canadian geese who were stopping by from…Canada? When they landed I watched and tripped over the root banging my arthritic toe. The geese didn’t stay long, instead, they took off to another part of the lake. It might have been the loud cursing erupting from my mouth.
As I hobbled on and gazed heavenward contemplating my pain and the distance my expletives might have traveled heavenward, I kicked another root. Same foot, same big toe…the big toe I’m trying put off surgery on until winter comes around again and I am worthless…ah, more worthless.
The second kick was even more solid than the first. Mortar Forker! This time I bent over, hands on knees…
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