Thursday, September 9, 2010

Remodel, Reshape, and Twinkies

After the grandson left last night, the Duke and I started to empty out the upstairs bathroom. Tomorrow starts another remodeling project in the house. Did I mention that this remodeling shit has been going on for 5 fucking years?

We have put in new carpet, new hardwood floors, redone the master bedroom & bath, remodeled the kitchen, the race and trophy room, the basement, the guest bath, and the outside back deck. The Duke is always redoing something around here. Well, not the Duke, exactly, because we all know he is a terrible builder/handyman.

Can I tell you that I HATE this shit? There are too many goddamn people in my house, it's too fucking noisy, too dusty, and there are strangers roaming around silently judging me as to the amount of fucking alcohol I drink before noon. (hi and fuck you Mr. Floor Tech!)

Anyway, I'm hoping that we will run out to rooms to remodel by 2016. By then, the Duke will be doing slave fucking labor for the local builders union and I'll be sucking wiener in the parking lot to pay off the $875,000 in marble and granite I had to have in the bathrooms and kitchen. But that house will be beautiful, yo!

Anyway, while I was taking a break, drinking a super Big Gulp and eating fried motherfucking Twinkies, I noticed how out of shape I am getting again. I broke up with trainer Barbie Bitch because honestly? If I had to see her size zero ass in pink leopard leggings or hear her perpetually perky voice one more fucking time, I would have killed her.

However, since breaking up with Barbie, I've been having nightmares that include Jane Fonda crying by my bed, Marie Osmond hocking up Nutri-system in my marble bathroom, cranes, missing roofs and THAT IS ENOUGH OF THAT SHIT, PEOPLE! So last night at 1:00 AM, I came up with a kick ass idea.

I waited for Duke and the SoS to leave for school and work this morning. I got dressed and hunted down my favorite workout disc. Dudes, I decided to get back into Tae Bo.

At 8 a.m.

That's 8 in the goddamn morning. Four full fucking hours before normal people time, AKA noon. There was sweat, tears, swearing, crying and more crying, but I fucking did it. It went something like this:

8:00 - Get the necessary supplies: water, towels, mats, MedAlert, atropine shots, an Ace bandage and some Heavy Duty Rubber Cement to keep the ginormous boobs at bay, and, of course, chilled vodka.

8:05 - Stretch. Actually, this was more like sort of reaching and groaning sprinkled with lots of exclamations like, "Holy fuck. I never knew my toes were so far from my goddamn head" and "WTF. When the hell did that grow there?"

8:10 - Begin. I'm karate kicking and screaming, "Pow, motherfucker!" all over the place. And then I remember why I quit this Tae Bo shit years ago. Satan is black, he wears spandex and goes by the nickname "Billy Blanks".

8:12 - I collapsed on the floor. I'm wheezing, "Pow....mother....fucker..." and if I can trust what I see in the reflection on the glass table top, I'm fucking turning blue.

8:13 - After a shot of atropine and some vodka, I attempt to continue this fucking 3 ring circus.

8:17 - Call my mother and ask her if it's normal to need Depends when you exercise. Hang up when the bitch starts giggling.

8:18 - Billy's exuberant queries of, "Are you feeling it?" are answered with such grumblings as, "Yeah, I feel it, you shiny motherfucking asshole" and "How...much....coke...you...snort...agggggg...."

8:20 - Enthusiastically cheer the TV. Fluff my pillow and grab a chocolate fucking donut.

8:30 - Turn the TV off, high-five myself and vow to do it again tomorrow.

8:31 - Uncross fingers, laugh maniacally and set that fucking disc on fire.

I'm going back to Twinkies and fucking Big Gulps tomorrow, but right now I need a nap.

2 comments:

  1. I have said it before, and I will say it again...EXERCISE was created by the Devil! God gave us glorious junk food and couches to have our ass sit on, so the devil thought up torture for us in the form of exercise. Old Billy is just one of his minions so he can watch us in his ball of fire and laugh his ass off!

    Now enjoy that fried twinkie, sit on the couch and flip him off as you turn on the TV to the cake making shows.

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  2. Um,...I have a very heavy crystal "beer mug" that you could use for your Vodka. You'd develope some serious muscles with that. (Have to switch arms though). If fact, if you just chug right out of the Kettle One bottle, that would do it too.

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