Cool, crisp, and tepid with anticipation of a Chili Pepper Q. Our hopes were soon crushed with the text, “Sorry got a flat, can someone else Q – love CP.” It could have just as easily been “My dog ate my weinke” or “Too many Bickle Boinkers last night, threw my back out.” Nonetheless, the Pax was there to pick up the six…Ghost Pepper in this case…who has aptly been renamed “Fix-a-flat Pepper.”
Ripken led the charge with some principles (not sure if there were 5), and a mozy. No one died. In honor of our fallen Q, Ripken led a short array of kickboxing moves, to which Pincher asked, “When are we going to start sweating?” With his new found lean body, he has lost the ability to sweat unless he is talking trash apparently. Same happened to Big Mac when he lost his gut.
The teens were soon enlisted to be our fearless leaders. McNugget hailed, “To State Road 70” and we were off. Barron took most of the run out with stops for Burpees, Burpees and more Burpees. On the way back, this turned into a more sane adventure with Lunges, Drydocks, Big Boy Situps, LBCs and Salsa Dips (where was Manziel to revel in the levity of the moment?).
Upon arrival back to the lot, it was noted that we had way too much time. This led to McNugget again taking the helm with 20 Merkins + a lap, followed by a1 minute Plank + a lap. This went on for 2-3 more rounds. Finally the TeenQ had beaten up the old guys enough. “Mommy” was faintly heard coming from Goob’s general direction.
Announcements: Wilson bought a new house and will be needing a moving crew in a few weeks.
Praises: Trump found an office, Thor won March Madness and lost a small child, and Chili had a flat tire!
Prayers: Gridlock is sick, so is Sparky. Zeus’ foot is bad, Bing to not get arrested at 3:44 in the morning getting someone out of bed.
Way to go future leaders. Way to step up.
Ripken out.