So, over Christmas two of my brothers were talking smack about how great shape they are in. Somehow, my two mile walks at the gym and the subsequent four hours of recovery just didn't seem to be measuring up to their 10k prowess, not that anyone in my very competitive family would comment on that. At least not more than two or three times, max. Each. Per day. But they forgot that I had the ultimate weapon to enter into the debate - the mighty-fine looking younger husband who could kick their pasty white butts if need be. But I didn't want to expound at length to that fact. Figured, why wreck their inflated dreams at Christmas? No, I just would not do so. I save that for February. So, I succinctly stated the obvious which I believe came out as "Oh yeah, well you can bounce a quarter off Robert's chest".
Having just entered the room, Robert had no idea why he then got smacked in the neck with a quarter which, for the record, just proves that the brothers are also bad shots although their cooperative empirical testing must be admired. I'm thinking the "It's an American custom" excuse was dusted off and again used effectively.
Monday, January 21, 2008
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