All Of My Days Have Been Misspent
So yesterday I did something interesting. I went to a Women�s Fitness and Figure Competition. Anyone know what that is? Well have you ever been watching ESPN when there are no other regularly scheduled sports events are on and there are really fit, buff women in little spandex laden outfits dancing around doing toe touches and one armed pushups? Well that is a fitness competition. Figure competitions are just women wearing bathing suits and standing there being judged on their bodies. It was fun because a friend of mine was competing in the Fitness portion. However, the figure portion was MIND NUMBINGLY BORING! And the women were so starved for any sort of nourishment that it made them completely stupid and unable to follow the simplest instructions. I mean how difficult is it to �quarter turn to the right�.arms at your side�? But apparently it was really difficult.
I must give these women props for their self discipline. It is crazy what they put themselves through for this. For the past 3 months, my friend has only eaten boiled chicken, steamed green beans and drank distilled water. Then for a week before the competition she only drinks distilled water and eats no food at all. She spends hours at the gym and sleeps. That is all she does. For three days before the competition, she doesn�t drink anything. Apparently dehydrating yourself makes your muscles appear buffer. Before the fitness portion, they shovel in candy to get enough energy to compete. This is just crazy. So crazy that it prompted all of us to spend the evening quoting Brian Fellows, �That�s crazy.� My friend Greg kept saying (about the figure competition), �This is crazy. Why are all these men wearing bikinis and wigs? This is crazy.�
We took Christina to Azteca the Mexican Restaurante afterwards so she could pig out. I had a dish called Pollo Fundido. I really like it when the name of a meal implies that I am going to have fun whilst consuming it. And it was DELICIOUS. Although I do believe I snorted some of it out of my nose when Greg began eating crushed up tortilla chips out the palm of his hand like he was a bird. I guess it was a sort of you had to be there moment but it was HI-larious nonetheless. (You don�t suppose the 3 margaritas made it funnier??)
In completely unrelated news�..
I want to be roasted. I want to be roasted in the manner of the old 70�s roasts that Dean Martin hosted. I want Red Buttons to roast me. I want Dean Martin to lean over the podium with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. Is that really too much to ask?
Sometimes the differences between the husband and I are so painfully annoying. I am constantly making pop culture references that fly over his Polish head. For instance, that last bit about being roasted will be completely lost on him. (To be fair, that last part might have been lost on a lot of people�.but I digress�.I was merely born in the wrong generation.) I make Carol Burnett references and he stares at me blankly. Ms. Wiggins is not as funny when you have to explain her and Mr. Tudball to an uninformed second party. He doesn�t know who Ted Knight is. He can�t name all the members of New Kids on the Block. Sometimes this presents problems. I know at times he feels the same way because I could care less about Paul Van Dyck or when Eternal Trance is on the radio. I don�t know what kbps stands for but I make him laugh when I call them �kibbips�. He doesn�t drink much because the smallest amount of alcohol turns him into a comatose zombie. I know, what kind of self respecting Polish man can�t tie one on? I myself am the correct blend of Irish and Eastern European that can drink an entire bottle of Vodka and still want to polish off a pitcher of Bud Light. My flamboyant outgoing personality allows him to play the perfect Jack Benny during my outlandish antics. I could go on but I feel like I am sounding like a really sophisticated version of a Paula Abdul song�and you all know which one it is.
I feel like I have rambled enough for now but I am BACK BABY! I am back to resume my regular obsessive updating of this hurr diary. I will be back later after you all have changed your adult diapers because you were so fucking excited that I am back that you wet yourselves or possibly even shit yourselves�..
