Monday, July 29, 2013

Kill the Girth

From “The Not-So-Little Mermaid”…

Here I see you,

Sitting there at the buffet.

You don’t got a lot to say,

You’ve just finished eating.

Yeah, you don’t know why 

But now it’s dieting you’ll try 

You wanna kill the girth.

Yes, you want it.

Look at you, you know you do.
It’s possible you can do it, too.

There is one way to find out.

It’ll take lots of work.

Yes, so much work.

Go on and kill the girth. 

Work with me now. 


My, oh, my.

Likes his food too fried, 

He ain’t gonna kill the girth.


Ain’t that sad?

Ain’t it shame, too bad?

You gonna feel the girth.

Now’s your moment 

Feeling like a big balloon.
Boy, you better do it soon
No time will be better.
So let’s get to work
And keep up that work
Until you kill the girth.


Don’t give in.

You got some strength within.
Go on and kill the girth.
Don’t stop now.
Excersise and less chow

Is how you kill the girth.


Be so strong.
Listen to my song, 

The song say kill the girth.


Music play 

While you work out each day. 

You wanna kill the girth.

You’ve got to kill the girth. 

Why don’t you kill the girth? 

You gotta kill the girth.

Go on and kill the girth.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Jack and Coke (and BlogHer)

Bartender: Hey, Jack. The usual?

Jack: Yeah, a “Me and Coke”.

Bartender: Ha! You oughta talk to that dude over there; he ordered a “Jack and Me.”

Jack: Hey, buddy. You look familiar. Are you… are you Coca-Cola?

Coke: Just call me “Coke.”

Jack: You look down in the dumps, Coke. Did you just get canned?

Coke: Ha ha.

Jack: Lemme guess: woman problems?

More like “women” problems.

Jack: Tell me about it. Just this morning, I yelled at my wife Anita to hurry up and iron my shirts. Well, the next thing I know, she’s in the car tearing out down the driveway...

Coke: Hmmmm…

Jack: My first thought was that she was rushing to the store to get spray starch, but it’s been hours

Coke: Well, my problem is that I was recently named  the “wellness” sponsor for BlogHer 2013.

Jack: Hey, isn’t that the annual conference that celebrates the best in health, family, entertainment, sex, DIY and political blogging by and for women?

Coke: Right, well, I agreed to host the Steps to Wellness challenge and campaign at the conference, and now everybody’s more agitated than a shook-up Sprite.

Jack: I’ll bet.

Coke: What do they want? I’m giving out free pedometers to everybody that attends BlogHer!

Jack: They can use ‘em to measure the 40 minutes it takes to burn off a can of soda.

Coke: Forty minutes? That’s nothing!

Jack: Did you guys really do a  commercial in the UK that suggested that all the calories in a can of Coke could be burned by laughing for 75 seconds?

Coke: I still believe that!

Jack: Why didn’t you just say that reading one of my blog posts would burn those calories?

Coke: Laughing, Jack. I said laughing.

Jack: Y’know, I read somewhere that Americans ingest 1.7 million tons -- or 10.8 pounds per person -- of sugar each year from Coca-Cola alone.

Coke: Yeah, well…

Jack: And a couple of months back, I saw that a 31-year-old New Zealand woman’s death was ruled in part because of an addiction to soda. The coroner noted that that the sugar and caffeine she got by drinking more than 2.6 gallons of Coca-Cola Classic per day was "a substantial factor" in what happened.

Coke: Well, we don’t recommend drinking more than two gallons a day.

Jack: I think that what folks are getting upset about is that you don't really have any business being a "wellness" sponsor for anybody...

 Coke: Y’know, you make me sound unhealthier than I actually is. After all, I'm the freakin' wellness sponsor for BlogHer, dammit!

Jack: Hey, hey...  don’t blow your top.

Coke: It’s just that I’m spending a lot of money and it doesn’t feel like I’m appreciated very much.

Jack: Well, maybe you just paid to learn a valuable lesson: you shouldn’t try to be something you’re not.

Coke: Hmmmm... that's something to think about. Thanks for the advice, Jack. Now you better go home and patch things up with your woman.

Jack: Yeah, maybe I’ll stop and get her a present.

Coke: Hey, Jack…

Jack: Yeah?

Coke: You’re not gonna get her a new iron, are you?

Jack: Ummmmm… 

Monday, July 22, 2013

How to Make Everyone at the Gym Hate You

• Lick the sweat off machine after using it

• Sing “Row Row Row Your Boat” at top of your lungs while doing rowing machine

• Sit down on person’s stomach while they’re doing bench presses

• Leave your tube of cookie dough in the elliptical cupholder

• Tell everyone you meet that your workout gloves are made of human skin

• Jog backwards on the treadmill

• Do pose-downs in front of the mirror for hours at a time

• Stand there tapping your foot and sighing audibly as soon as somebody gets on machine you want

• Wear your “Registered Sex Offender” t-shirt

• Attempt to pay personal trainer with car wash coupons

• Bring a boombox and loudly play non-stop Jimmy Buffet medley

• Tie yoga mats to your arms and run around flapping like a bird, screaming “Look at me! I can fly, bitches!”

Thursday, July 18, 2013

More Signs Your Mom Is a Fit Blogger

• Your macaroni-and-cheese has no pasta or dairy products in it.

• House gets egged every Halloween because she gives kids tiny bags of kale chips.

• Activity for your birthday party is a 10K fun run.

• Instead of Tickle-Me-Elmo, she got you Yoga-Me-Grover.

• That jug of what you thought was delicious green Kool-Aid in the fridge wound up being disgusting wheatgrass juice.

• You’re so embarrassed at the playground when Mom does a dozen chin-ups on the swingset.

• Santa brought you a PlaySkool elliptical.

• You’d give your last hexbug for one crispy tator tot!

• Only Wii game she lets you play is one where you have to spin around in place as fast as you can for an hour.

• Plain freakin’ yogurt!

• Every time she runs out of stuff to write about, you gotta do something cute to save the day.

• McDonald’s? What the hell is McDonald’s?

Want more?

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Toad You I'd Do it Eventually! (FrogFuel Giveaway)

This is a true story... 

One day I was hopping along from my home near the pond with my good buddy Kermit Dafraugh (who is NOT a frog… I don’t know why everybody just assumes that Kermit is a frog, but let’s just get it straight right now: he is NOT a frog).

“Man,” said Kermit wistfully. “I could sure go for a fly smoothie right now.”

“Y’know,” I barked at him. “You really need to quit eating flies; that’s why everybody thinks you’re a damn frog!”

“Sor-ree!” croaked Kermit.

Well, we came up to this ginormous pool full of cream. I know… a pool full of cream, right? Who fills a pool full of cream this time of year? It makes no sense.

“Looks creamy,” said Kermit, leaning over the edge. “Wait, is that a fly? I think I can… AHHHHHHHHH!!!”

I reached out and grabbed my buddy, but slipped and… well… we both feel headfirst into the cream. That can’t be good for your iPhone!

“Wow,” said Kermit, licking his lips. “This is even better than flies!”

“We have to get out of here,” I exclaimed. “Cream is much thicker than water; we could easily drown in here.”

“Not me,” proclaimed Kermit, confidantly. “I have really strong legs and… oh who am I kidding? I’m done for!”

With that, Kermit gave up, licked his lips one last time and slipped – glub glub glub – below the surface and drowned.

The second frog… no wait… I mean me… I was far more determined. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a packet of FrogFuel.

Frog Fuel, in case you’re wondering, is a great-tasting berry-flavored medical-grade protein shot that was actually developed by Navy Seals. Anyway, I ripped the packet of Frog Fuel open and sucked the liquid down.

Re-energized, I kicked and kicked and kicked and kicked some more. Eventually the cream turned to butter, and I jumped out of the pool, where there was a guy in a suit waiting to talk to me.

“Hey, Jack,” said Mike, the representative from FrogFuel. “Ummmm, what’s going on here?”

“Just… ummmm… trying out my new butter pool all by myself,” I replied.

“GASP,” gasped Kermit, breaking through to the edge of the pool. “CHECK OUT ALL THE FREAKIN' BUTTER!”

“I thought you drowned,” I exclaimed, pulling him out of the pool.

“I resuscitated myself,” grinned Kermit. “Who’s your buddy?”

“Oh, that’s Mike from Frog Fuel,” I answered. “I was supposed to something for him…”

“A REVIEW AND A CONTEST,” hissed Mike.

“One million stars!” I reviewed.

“Can you at least talk about The FrogFuel Performance Blog App?” asked Mike.

“Ummmmm,” I stammered.

“Look, everyone is looking to step up their fitness but finding the perfect protein supplement in the clutter can be tough,” said Mike, without even reading from the brochure. “FrogFuel is an advanced formulation protein that WILL take your workouts to the next level.”

“You know more about this stuff than I do,” I said. “Can’t you just finish this so I can shower all this butter off me?”

“Okay,” sighed Mike. “Here are some of the benefits:  it’s hydrolyzed for faster absorption, which means better performance and quicker recovery. It's a Pure Collagen Protein that improves skin, muscle mass and tone, increases joint flexibility and makes for healthier bones, arteries, hair, nails and eyes.
Plus it contains Taurine to help rebuild muscles faster. There are no banned substances, sugars, fats, carbs, gluten, cholesterol, lactose or excess ingredients.”

“Why don’t you explain the contest we were talking about?” I suggested.

“Man, they were right about you,” said Mike, shaking his head. “You really are the laziest blogger in the world. Okay, we asked you to host a giveaway where one lucky could win a  Frog Performance Tasting Pack which includes three FrogFuel 1 oz Protein Shots and an Elite Status FrogFuel Sticker.”

“Blah, blah, blah, blah,” I said. “Listen, just check out the FrogFuel Performance Blog App below (and don’t think I won’t know if you don’t check it out because I will know. I WILL SO KNOW!”

“You can also tweet with the #FrogFuel hashtag to inspire folks to take their fitness to the next level,” I added. “Or share #FrogFuel Fitspiration on Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter or Tumblr to earn more chances to… okay, I’ll admit it. I’m not keeping up with all that. BUT I AM WATCHING THE BLOG APP THINGY!!!”

“C’mon, Jack. You’ve got to give it some kind of contest-type feature,” pleaded Mike. “Look, have your readers post their results from the ‘What is Your Fuel Level?’ quiz or maybe share their favorite workout & fitness tips.”

“No, no, no,” I grinned. “I’ve got it. Leave a comment here with what your name would be if you were a frog! I’ll pick the best response in a random drawing.”

“That doesn’t make any sen..”


“I’d be Kermit DaFrog!” said Kermit. “Get it? Get it?”

“I’m going to look for a new job,” said Mike, walking away with his head down. 

Rules: Probably shouldn’t have let Mike get away without talking about rules. Something something U.S. residents only. Deadline… ummmmm… Saturday at midnight! No… this Saturday. I don’t know… I don’t have a calendar! Oh yeah, and I wasn’t paid for this review and giveaway opportunity except for some FrogFuel packs and A BRAND NEW CAMARO!!!!! Okay, I didn’t get a Camaro, but wouldn’t that have been cool if I did? VROOOOOM VROOOMMMMMMM So long, suckers! SCREEEEEECHHHHHH!! 

Monday, July 8, 2013

Where the Widewalk Ends

With apologies to Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the widewalk ends

And where a healthy life begins, 

And there the meals are crisp and fresh,
And don’t add pounds onto your flesh
And make you big as Bangladesh.
And thin your too-thick skin.
Let us leave this place where food’s fried in grease
And cookies and cakes are our best friends.
Past the shelves where the keep marshmallow fluff
And Nutella, and candy and unhealthy stuff
And instead tell ourselves that enough is enough.
Go to the place where the widewalk ends.
Yes, we'll walk with a walk that keeps us on the go,
And try to improve on the ol’ status quo,
So our bodies stay fit, and our bodies don’t grow
To the place where the widewalk ends.

Monday, July 1, 2013

World War T

“OMG,” I screamed, rushing through the front then slamming it shut and throwing the deadbolt. “They’re back from the dead.”

“I’ve been warning you about the zombie apocalypse, Dad,” said my teenage daughter Pisa, putting down her book. “You’re safe though; zombies only eat brains.”

“It’s not zombies,” I shouted at my kind-of-funny but disrespectful-to-her-elders child. “It’s ten times worse!”

“Ten times worse than zombies?” asked Pisa incredulously. “Oh no… is it the Alabama cousins?”

“Worse than that,” I said, nailing some boards across the doorway. “Twinkies are back!”

“I thought they went out of business.”

“Well,” I explained. “They went bankrupt after an acrimonious fight with its unionized workers last year but they’re back up and running under new owners and a leaner structure. They plan to have Twinkies and other snack cakes back on shelves starting July 15.”

“Just don’t buy them,” said Pisa matter-of-factly.

“You don’t understand,” I told her. “They’re Twinkies! They will just show up in our pantry when we least expect it. They cannot die!”

“What if we taught the zombies to eat the all the Twinkies?” she asked.

“Pisa, Pisa, Pisa…” I smiled, shaking my head. “You’re a freakin’ genius. JUST LIKE YOUR OL’ DAD!”


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