12 Monkeys

12 Monkeys

I’m Henry the eighth I am
Henry the eighth I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She’s been married seven times before

And every one was an Henry (Henry)
She wouldn’t have a Willy or a Sam (no Sam)
I’m her eighth old man, I’m Henry
Henry the eighth I am

Second verse same as the first

I’m Henry the eighth I am
Henry the eighth I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She’s been married seven times before

The Thang:

First of all, Orange Rhapsody decided to disrespect my workout by doing like 7 mins of random kettlebell exercises in the parking lot just before. Do you show up at Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving with a room temperature Hot Pocket and slap it on the table? Heck no. Should have got smacked for that, but I was sitting in my vehicle nodding off to sleep.

We ran around a little bit to find a dark spot so we could hide from Rhapsody’s neighbor, who never found us. Off to a good start.

COP with so much love and praise for the leadership that we had to move on out of there before things really went off the rails. Bulldog had started handing out some cans of 4 Loko that he found in the parking lot with duct tape wrapped around them that said “Official F3 Beer” and I was concerned about drinking malt liquor that early into the workout, even if it was the sponsored beer of F3 with all profits going to the supreme leader.

Find an emotional support partner, and get ready for some encouragement. Mandatory high fives from here on out. It’s high five Friday. Except for Radar, who I left hanging as payback for tying all of those balloons to the Yellow Rose and flying off to BRR Leg 28 with it two years ago. #freerange.

We ran up and down the big hill and did 4 exercises, each with a trip up to the top. Merkins, Mountain Climbers, Monkey Humpers, Freddie Mercuries. Like a Crash Test Dummies Song . . . . mmmm mmm mmmm mmmm. Those 4 exercises are a total body workout. #science

Each time we thought we were finished, we really weren’t finished. We kept dropping down a level and doing the same 4 awesome exercises. We did that nonsense until we made it plum to the bottom. By then, my approval rating was at least as high as the Mecklenburg County property tax increases and folks were really starting to look forward to all of the good things to come.

We ran around some more with the partners and did the same scientific exercises until a few guys started to really whine about it. So, I let the pax choose 4 new exercises and we did those. They were not a full body scientific workout and actually made me gain weight and get slower, but #democracy. One of them exercises was a burpee, which like two guys did. Clearly a downgrade from the Crash Test Dummies exercises.

Finally, we ran back up the hill to the top and then back to the cars so we could lay in the parking lot for 3 mins and pretend to exercise right until the end. It was awesome. I think somebody farted.

Skin:

I sure am glad that this workout went off like such a well-oiled machine. With this rowdy of a crew, even the slightest slip up could mean utter disaster and shame. Bananas was crouched like a tiger, waiting to pounce on my slightest misstep. Well, maybe more like Garfield, waiting to pounce on some Lasagna but it was still enough to keep me on my toes.

Good Hands and Radar were back, like they had never left. They were running up front with Spackler, doing extra burpees and encouraging the rest of us. Got me all fired up. I think they have been secretly working out. One of them dropped a card to some gym called “Cool Sculpting” and I saw Puddin Pop pick it up and slip it in his wallet.

Bulldog must be on World War 2 Rations or something, because he soiled himself something awful and ran out of pull-ups. No wonder his teeth are so bad, if he has been holding those things in for all of these years the backpressure must have been causing corrosive leaking back up the windpipe.

Stone Cold kept singing some random song and I pretended like it wasn’t really annoying, but it was really annoying. Not like Baby Shark annoying, but enough to make me want to go all Col. Mustard in the conservatory on him. Good thing that I don’t have a conservatory. I think Tiger Rag does though, in the East Wing.

Gotta run. Power lunch with Cogswell Cogs and Spacely Sprockets today.

Horsehead