Thanks to NotMe, who sent us this little item from the monthly Advice Column of the American Association of Associated Athletic Aerobiticians of America newsletter.
"Dear AAAAAAbby,
I have a problem.
I know a woman (who shall remain nameless until the next paragraph where I will try and be funny by mistakenly revealing her to be my friend Petey.)
...but that's not my problem.
This woman-to-be-revealed-as-Petey is a nationally certified member of the American Association of Associated Athletic Aerobiticians of America (or something like that.)
(Seriously. Unlike the rest of this entry, which is Not Funny, this is Not A Joke.)
After years of Aerobaticizing, she step-ball-changed all the way to Long Island to take a day-long test to become nationally certified as a trainer by some national certification organization with a lot of A's in their name. The test involved her standing up in front of a roomful of other obscenely fit Aerobaticians (no really, their muscles cuss everytime they flex) and lead them in some kind of secret sweaty ritual that involves Tom Hanks running in place trying to escape Jean Reno doing a step routine while desperately trying to decode the ancient clues that will lead them to the identity of Christ's Personal Trainer or something like that.
(Let me save you having to sit through 3 interminable hours of Tom's mullet and decode it for you : the trainer is a french woman who looks a lot like Juliet Binoche. Or Ian McKellan, depending on the lighting. Your pick.)
...but that's not my problem.
The ritual ended with her pulling a unitard out of a stone (and does that sound like an insult or what? "GOD, Francine! You are such a unitard!") and swearing on a glowing tennis-shoe to only use her Aerobatician powers for good because "with great quads comes great responsibility."
She now spends most mornings either eating yogurt, downwarding her dog (feel free to use that naughty sounding euphemism in one of your conversations today) or helping old ladies get even more wrinkled..
As a result she has a bod (to use the official AAAAAA terminology) that causes even hetero women to check her out appreciatively.
...but that's not my problem (unless my self esteem is in the same time zone or something.)
Petey has a birthday which is right before Christmas, which evidently sucks as people are always combining all of the winter holidays into one KwannukahBirthmas.
This has resulted in several things :
1. She always gets confused as to just whose birthday Christians are commemorating (which led to that little surprise the Baptists got when they came out to find the "Christ Child" in their outdoor nativity scene had grown alot during the night...and had eaten all of the Myrrh.)
2. She gets birthday presents wrapped in paper with little reindeer on them (or perhaps in them. Not sure - I was pretty drunk when she was whining about this part, er, expressing her feelings. Which I always validate, like parking.)
3. People feel that this aggregated single holiday requires only one holiday's worth of presents, which results in her getting only 1 and half bazillion presents instead of the 2 bazillion she feels she deserves.
4. She has made up a new personal holiday, which she calls her "half-birthday." On this day (which takes place in June) everyone she has ever met is supposed to give her the other half-bazillion presents that she missed out on the year prior. (Or will miss out on later on this year. I'm not really clear on that point, see prior parenthetical re : "drunk".)
...but that's not my problem. (Really. I can quit anytime I want.)
If I decide to participate in this blatant swag grab er, deeply meaningful ceremony, do I get her a case of sports meat?
According to the interrnets, which, because it is in my computer means it Cannot Lie, sports meat (on a stick, no less) is the bestest gift for an athlete aerobiticizer like Petey.
There-in lies my problem :
- what makes something "sports meat"?
- why does it make me so uncomfortable to even write the words "sports meat"?
- why do I use words like "there-in"?
Thank you AAAAAAbby, I AAAAAApreciate your AAAAAAssistance."
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and thank you, Petes, for enabling me to post here for the first time since Duffy died.
