Sunday 29 December 2013

Danger? I laugh in the face of danger!!

Don't believe everything you hear. For example, leggings are NOT pants... but either are skirts so go to town on those bad boys, I say. Also, Antonio Banderas may look like he's headed for 'washed up' status (He’s doing chewing gum commercials! That’s his JOB now!) But guess what? The guy owns 50% of a winery! A winery that makes WINE! If that's not winning at life then what is? Really? Maybe also owning a brewery would be the true definition of absolute winning but... he's half way there. How many of us can say that? And finally, the whole 'exercise is good for you' conspiracy is about to be blown WIDE open. That's just how I roll, y'all. I push the envelope. I'm here to tell you that exercise is lethal. It's a dangerous, loathsome activity that is killing our children, taking our parents from us far too early, and spitting in the face of democracy. Well... maybe not that last one but you know how these slippery slope things go... it's just a matter of time. And if you don't believe me, I have proof. It is because I care about my fellow people that I get right down there in the trenches so that you don't have to. Knowing that I might possibly save someone by enduring such torture is my real reward, followed closely by the reward of escaping with my life. Some people have not been so lucky. 

The scene: A sporting complex in the 'school-of-hard-knocks' suburb of Marden. The instigator: My brother, who may or may not be Lucifer incarnate. The torture: Netball. When you're about to die they say that you see your life flash before your eyes. I didn't get anything quite so glamorous. All I got was a flash of yellowish white as the elbow smashed into the side of my face. I knew my time was coming but I pushed on. After all I had driven all the way out there without getting lost. Also, as a treat for getting through the hell that is netball, I'd promised myself that I'd spend a whole hour the next day on photoshop replacing Rita Wilson's face with mine in her wedding photos. One day, Tom Hanks will be my beloved and so I need to see how our wedding will be. So did I give up after that blow to the head? No. Should I have? Perhaps. 

My face was bright red, the muscles (what few I have) in my legs were shaking out of protest and I felt like I was going to throw up. But I am nothing if not stubborn. If someone tells me I can't eat an entire sara lee sticky date pudding then I'm going to eat that whole thing and then another one, just to prove I can do whatever the flip I want. You ain't gon tell me what to do! You're not my real dad! So as the ball came towards me and the girl I could never keep up with ran for it, I stayed back. My plan was to bypass the whole 'trying to stop her from scoring thing' and stop the OTHER guy from scoring. He was so good that he'd shoot most shots single handed… Showoff! Me and my team mate covered him like a sparkly silver tank top covers a Hindley street hooker.... not very well. But as the ball rebounded off the side of the goal I saw my opening. I saw the glory that would soon and most certainly be mine. And I reached for that glory hungrily. But then so did one-handed-shooting-guy. If I'm stubborn, this guy is a killer in disguise. All laughing and joking and pretending not to care but when push comes to shove, that guy is like Anton Chigurh in No Country For Old Men. He's CRAZY! Some people would just try to grab the ball out of my reach and go for the goal again. Not one-handed-guy, no no, that's not enough for him. His eyes, which I swear turned into two little fire balls when he realised that I was attempting to thwart his plans, locked onto mine as his slammed his fist onto my thumb, pushing it back so far that I thought 'my god, I'm double jointed!'. That was until the pain started and I realised I am not double jointed but just bleeding internally. Severely too, I might add. It is a wonder I'm alive to write this. 

The next issue was my lack of fitness. I was trying to keep up; I was not just standing around tapping my toe and thinking about cats wearing costumes, I really really wasn't, you guys!! I think that honestly I just didn’t want to be the least fit person on the team. As a fill in player, I know that’s what people expect from me; total lack of skill and competency. But I hate living up to people’s unfounded assumptions about me. That’s why sometimes, just for fun, I’ll start screaming compliments at people in German. See the brilliance of it is that they think I’m insulting them but I’m actually saying something like “You have the most beautiful ears I’ve ever seen” just very loudly, and in a language they don’t understand. So I worked really hard during the netball game to make people think that I frequent this thing called ‘exercise’. People were checking in to make sure I was okay and I was bravely smiling through my wheezing and reassuring them that this was nothing to me; it was so easy it was a joke. But a body can only put up with so much until it rebels. Occasionally I would have to quickly sit down while the play was at the other end of the court and shoot back up if any of my team members looked over. In addition to my recreational sit-downs, I would also do this thing I invented that looks a lot like running but is actually just me moving my legs while they remain on the ground; giving people the illusion that I was running on the spot. Brilliant, I know. It’s tough being this smart. 

I expect that this is what it’s like to come back from battle. You feel deflated and paranoid thinking that death is around every corner. You can genuinely scowl at people’s first world problems before muttering “you don’t know pain. I’ve SEEN some shit!” Also, there are the nightmares and the sweating, not to mention the occasional Tourettes-like outbursts that you can’t control. Exercise is a dangerous epidemic that seems to be consuming our population. Heed my warning, kids… there are better ways to get your kicks. Glue sniffing, for one. Prank phone calling is also good. And if all else fails there is always cask wine. But don’t you even think about getting caught up in this exercise business because if you do, you will die. 

THE END!

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