I have about had it with this temperamental tag list. I type, it disappears, then it comes back. We do this dance. I lose. We all lose. Paging Wingman. when you get done processing the 1000 Waxhaw backblasts from today, please open a service ticket on this item.
PAX: Gummy, Cage (R), Bulldog, TD, Scott Farkus, Puddin Pop, Schmedium, Fault Line, Double E, Cottontail, Cottonmouth, BLC (R), Homer, Harley, Horsehead (QIC)
15 at Kevlar, including a few #SIxFourteeners, took advantage of one of the last appropriate days of the year to wear white shoes.
Six Fourteener: siks fôrˈtēn er – A man who keeps plenty of gas in the tank during the course of a workout either by holding back, or simply refuseniking certain parts, such that he can sprint vigorously at the very end while others are running on fumes. See: Scott Farkus, Tackling Dummy
THE THANG:
SKIN SO SOFT:
The standard for acceptable COP exercises has gotten mighty, mighty thin. It was almost as if certain PAX were issued remote controls with a skip button, which they pointed towards me as I attempted to get everybody warmed up appropriately. I, for one, think that the traditional SSH (sans coupon, of course) is a fantastic way to get the blood moving around a little bit before a workout and shall not be deterred, although there was quite the void of alacrity in the air.
This morning, we were delighted with 66% of the TriFusenik posting, plus Gummy, filling in for #BIgHairyGloss and playing the role of Shemp Howard. Now we all know that Shemp < Curly , but at least it wasn’t Curly-Joe. That’s getting into Vance & Coy Duke territory. Also see: any Andy Griffith episode in color. We made it work.
Cage, who is pushing pert near 60 these days, had on some sort of black biker doo-rag. He looked like one of the Final Bosses from Double Dragon who had the girl kidnapped. He was moving too fast for me to use my jump-roundhouse. Cottontail finally knocked him out with a butter churn and we high-tailed it out of there. Ahhh . . . brings back memories of blowing in Nintendo cartridges so we could foul up my cousin’s Duck Hunt high score with a secret flashlight.
At one point during the 10/20/30s, (which as a sidenote Joker only has a patent on the variety that involves a lot of partner touching), Bulldog engaged BLC in a one-sided conversation. I’m suspecting that since the Dawg has a house full of relatives visiting from across-the-pond that his moderately-translatable accent has fallen into disarray to the point where most of us are only able to pick out bits and pieces. A “mate” here and a “pal” there and Bob’s your Uncle, you know the drill. Well, I’m not sure what BLC heard but it was possibly something about the high potash content in his fertilizer (you know, the K part) because he just deadpan looked over at him and ran off. Tower of Babel.
I hope you all enjoyed this break from BRR training. Soon will be the time for red-eyed wandering down the aisles of Ingles in search of chili-tater antecode and respite from the mysteriously wet port-o-johns where you dropped your blinky light and had to fish around for it on the floor. Good thing our team fell apart. Hannibal tried to set up a reunion weekend, but after 1000 group texts the final verdict was just he and I alone in the cabin at some point and we can do that just about anywhere.
And by the way, for you knuckleheads who are too cool to write backblasts these days. Here’s why they are important:
Gotta roll. These cassette tape recordings of the traditional service ain’t gonna listen to themselves.
HH
[…] YHC considered whether or not to make this an F3 workout and whether or not to write a BB. Since we had 2 F3 pax and an FNG, the decision was made to start with a disclaimer and lead on in F3 fashion, so we did. I think every FNG deserves a back blast, so here it is. YHC was motivated by Horse Head’s recent back blast: http://f3southcharlotte.com/2019/08/23/614/ […]
About the author