You know what is absolutely Suxor, King Of Suckonia And Surrounding Counties? When you go out for a run and for the first time in at least two molten months, it's not eleven thousand degrees, so you don't feel like every stride is taking you one step closer to a big, beefy hug from the Grim Reaper. You're so excited, you're even timing yourself intently (which you don't normally do because your molasses pace makes you cry) to see if this newfound freedom from running through a Swedish sauna is helping your splits at all...
...and you are suddenly hit with a horrible cramp in an abdominal organ you didn't even know you had, the intense pain of which convinces you that there must be a tiny, deranged elf up in there, performing an appendectomy with a plastic picnic spork, cackling maniacally. You slow your triumphant run to a walk, but the elf continues to hack away at your marginally vital organs until you slow...to...a...stop. Phooooooooooooo. You finally silence the elf within, but you're still half a mile from home. And you're pissed. Phoooooooooooo.
All hail Suxor, for he is mighty! And has a wicked herd of elves.
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1 comment:
that does suxor. a lot!!!!
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