Hey you guys, guess what? (What, blatherblahg?)
Blatherblahg is tired, that’s what!
I am woah out behind my a.m. workout. Which was injury free, if you don’t count the immeasurable damage to my fragile ego. Crushed beyond repair, it is. Out of shape beyond reclaimation, I may be.
Rock hard abs, toned thighs, a Jedi craves not these things. BUT IF MARK HAMILL HAD THEM WHY CAN’T I? MY R2 UNIT HAS A BAD MOTIVATOR. (I wish there was a font that communicated “Luke Skywalker whine”).
At least I didn’t feel like a total Vomitous Rex at the end of this one. But juuuuust barely.
Finally, the end of the work day arrives and I can go home and lay down behind all this activity. Mercy.
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