Ping Pong RastaFriday, March 27, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Saturday Afternoon
We left our bags at the entrance cubbies with Howie and Leanne, hopped into the Anaconda, fastened our seatbelts and anxiously awaited to experience the mountain of the largest nation in the world. Ok, everyone get a step, and a few sets of weights the instructor said ever-so-perkily into the microphone.
Click Click Click, we moved away into dark tunnel, slowly as it built up tempo. Now that we've done a bit of basic step, I think we are ready to get started. The Anaconda was not made of wood, but it creaked like Mick, or any old rocker for that matter really. Alright, here it comes, we are going through the whole combination in 5, 4, 3, 2...the next second was the slowest yet the fastest, the beast jetted forward ferociously in a downwards spiral, followed by a few corkscrews...Thrrrree touch steps followed by one left star step, and one right star step! It felt like riding on a rampid, Mlb-juiced boaconstictor about to devour the caiman it hungered for, as well as anything else in its way...Feel the BURN! And pulse, pulse, pulse, pulse, coil around, pulse, pulse, pulse, squeeze it hard, then hollllllld and re-lease. 1. ahuh ahuh ahuh. We were out of breath and could not believe there was no height limit on that baby. Excellent. Now lay down n your mats, curl your legs into your chest and relax. Well, I guess its time to call it a day and get some funnel cake.
Click Click Click, we moved away into dark tunnel, slowly as it built up tempo. Now that we've done a bit of basic step, I think we are ready to get started. The Anaconda was not made of wood, but it creaked like Mick, or any old rocker for that matter really. Alright, here it comes, we are going through the whole combination in 5, 4, 3, 2...the next second was the slowest yet the fastest, the beast jetted forward ferociously in a downwards spiral, followed by a few corkscrews...Thrrrree touch steps followed by one left star step, and one right star step! It felt like riding on a rampid, Mlb-juiced boaconstictor about to devour the caiman it hungered for, as well as anything else in its way...Feel the BURN! And pulse, pulse, pulse, pulse, coil around, pulse, pulse, pulse, squeeze it hard, then hollllllld and re-lease. 1. ahuh ahuh ahuh. We were out of breath and could not believe there was no height limit on that baby. Excellent. Now lay down n your mats, curl your legs into your chest and relax. Well, I guess its time to call it a day and get some funnel cake.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
MY SPOON
AsI hurriedly ate my strawberry yogurt out on the big rock, I though to myself, (yes, in a rather Carrie Bradshaw opens her ibook kind of way) , "why is it that some people have it all, yet other people have not it all." Really troublesome. I tossed the yogury container into the waves beating against the big rock and ran, with my Beatrix Potter collectible pewter spoon shining brightly in the sun (but slightly smudged due to having previously used it to eat yougurt) and went to a place that I had always known, but never truly knew.
It was five o'clock and the exterior of Franklin mall was quite deserted for a friday night. Can you believe desserts is stressed backwards! coicindence...I think not..desserts make you stressed. You think that when you sit down on your comfy velour chesterfield with a nice big bowl of Ben & Jerries the stress is trickling out of your system like the tears trickling out of a proud fathers eyes.Wrong. The typical array of shoppers was present. George Psirakis sat at the Auntie Anne's stand, even though it can be presumed one would stand at a stand when given the opportunity, George Psirakis, was not. Sporting a backwards, upside down, A &A velour cordorouy hat paired with green knickers (with a maroon plastic spoon in the back pocket of course) he was quite possibly the best cross-country skiier on the entire Auntie Anne staff. His determined pre-mature forehead wrinkle screamed, " I want to make my own country, and I want it all, the wailing wall,a roulette ball , and puppy chow." I strolled past the Auntie Anne's, despite my desire for pepperoni pretzel, as I was at the mall for a reason and until I had taken care of my business, there would be no tomfoolery. I was taken aback by the display at Victoria's Secret. The womannequin (a woman needs a man like an implala needs a refrigerator magnet, I always say!) was wearing vibrant carnaval-esque lime green, shimmmery lingerie. Totally Rio... out of the cornea of my corner I noticed the discreet pockets on each hip...bodaciously functional...I recognized that the pocket on my right (her left) was occupied by an item...of cutlery!..Bubble gum pink...around five see em...Definately no longer than your lateral-most digit...."Bye Golly!" I said as saw my neighbor, Golly F. Branson exiting the undergarment establishment.
It was five o'clock and the exterior of Franklin mall was quite deserted for a friday night. Can you believe desserts is stressed backwards! coicindence...I think not..desserts make you stressed. You think that when you sit down on your comfy velour chesterfield with a nice big bowl of Ben & Jerries the stress is trickling out of your system like the tears trickling out of a proud fathers eyes.Wrong. The typical array of shoppers was present. George Psirakis sat at the Auntie Anne's stand, even though it can be presumed one would stand at a stand when given the opportunity, George Psirakis, was not. Sporting a backwards, upside down, A &A velour cordorouy hat paired with green knickers (with a maroon plastic spoon in the back pocket of course) he was quite possibly the best cross-country skiier on the entire Auntie Anne staff. His determined pre-mature forehead wrinkle screamed, " I want to make my own country, and I want it all, the wailing wall,a roulette ball , and puppy chow." I strolled past the Auntie Anne's, despite my desire for pepperoni pretzel, as I was at the mall for a reason and until I had taken care of my business, there would be no tomfoolery. I was taken aback by the display at Victoria's Secret. The womannequin (a woman needs a man like an implala needs a refrigerator magnet, I always say!) was wearing vibrant carnaval-esque lime green, shimmmery lingerie. Totally Rio... out of the cornea of my corner I noticed the discreet pockets on each hip...bodaciously functional...I recognized that the pocket on my right (her left) was occupied by an item...of cutlery!..Bubble gum pink...around five see em...Definately no longer than your lateral-most digit...."Bye Golly!" I said as saw my neighbor, Golly F. Branson exiting the undergarment establishment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)