Dear Mr. Norris,
I finally figured out how to practice the "Hip Abduction" move. If I may submit my ever-so-humble opinion, hiring a thug to abduct the excess from my hips would be much preferred.
Sincerely,
Denise in Phoenix
Monday, April 5, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
It's Me Again, Mr. Norris
Dear Mr. Norris,
If I'd known my sister was going to forward my blog to your company, I never would have said that about you being 70 years old "for pity's sake". I only meant that I'm young enough to be your daughter.
I am, however, very grateful for the 30 page instruction manual for the Total Gym 1000 that one of your team members forwarded to her for me. Right on the cover was the explanation for my feet releasing and sending me zooming backward at 30 miles an hour: I had the bars anchored to the WRONG end.
As a visual learner, I am confident that the pictures provided in the user's guide are going to lead me to a state of buffness that will shock my peers.
Most sincerely,
Denise in Phoenix
If I'd known my sister was going to forward my blog to your company, I never would have said that about you being 70 years old "for pity's sake". I only meant that I'm young enough to be your daughter.
I am, however, very grateful for the 30 page instruction manual for the Total Gym 1000 that one of your team members forwarded to her for me. Right on the cover was the explanation for my feet releasing and sending me zooming backward at 30 miles an hour: I had the bars anchored to the WRONG end.
As a visual learner, I am confident that the pictures provided in the user's guide are going to lead me to a state of buffness that will shock my peers.
Most sincerely,
Denise in Phoenix
Friday, April 2, 2010
Dear Chuck Norris
Dear Mr. Norris,
Give me a minute to catch my breath....
What's that? Oh, no. Your physique has no bearing on my gasping for air. Well, actually, it does, but not in the manner you're imagining. You're 70 years old, for pity's sake.
You see, I just spent some quality time with your Total Gym. I'm not sure the level of quality, but I can assure you, the time was quality.
Because the cost of the Total Gym package from your website would cost me the price of a plane ticket to Burundi, I went ahead and bought my neighbor's cast-off Total Gym 1000 last weekend for $40. Of course, the instruction booklet is long gone, but what's to worry about? I saw you and Christie Brinkley on the infomercial and was impressed with this one thought, "Nothing to it!"
As is typically true with self-described impressive thoughts, I didn't discover "nothing" when I went "to it" this morning.
Deciding that abs were a good place to start (I have plenty of abdominal material to work with), I laid down on the inclined bench and put my feet where I thought they should go. I can't really tell you what happened next, but I do recall lying there, head slanted downward, trying to visualize what my feet and legs were doing (I couldn't lift my head to look because that would require strong abdominals and I don't have those amongst my plethora of 'material'). When I attempted what I thought would be a good move, I don't know what happened. But it struck me funny. Knowing that laughter is good for the abs, I went ahead and laughed for a bit. I tried a few more moves, then resorted to some core stretches--all while my feet remained in that unseen formerly supposed to be a good position.
After a few of those, I started to feel the burn so quit for today. The last thing I want to do is OVERdo! Realizing I needed to release my unseen feet from wherever they were in order to sit up, I did. With no warning whatsoever (it's probably in that missing instruction booklet), the inclined bench went whizzing downward to the end of the thing (you know, that thing at the bottom of the unit), and I came to a jolting, upside down halt.
I remained on the bench for a few more minutes, jiggling with laughter--I mean, doing more ab work, then fell off.
Don't worry, I didn't hurt myself. I'm well-padded.
As I laid there working on my abs, I wondered if you'd be interested in featuring me in one of your infomercials? I'm sure I have great genetic potential. Afterall, you should see my brother's abs. They don't jiggle at all.
Most sincerely,
Denise in Phoenix
Give me a minute to catch my breath....
What's that? Oh, no. Your physique has no bearing on my gasping for air. Well, actually, it does, but not in the manner you're imagining. You're 70 years old, for pity's sake.
You see, I just spent some quality time with your Total Gym. I'm not sure the level of quality, but I can assure you, the time was quality.
Because the cost of the Total Gym package from your website would cost me the price of a plane ticket to Burundi, I went ahead and bought my neighbor's cast-off Total Gym 1000 last weekend for $40. Of course, the instruction booklet is long gone, but what's to worry about? I saw you and Christie Brinkley on the infomercial and was impressed with this one thought, "Nothing to it!"
As is typically true with self-described impressive thoughts, I didn't discover "nothing" when I went "to it" this morning.
Deciding that abs were a good place to start (I have plenty of abdominal material to work with), I laid down on the inclined bench and put my feet where I thought they should go. I can't really tell you what happened next, but I do recall lying there, head slanted downward, trying to visualize what my feet and legs were doing (I couldn't lift my head to look because that would require strong abdominals and I don't have those amongst my plethora of 'material'). When I attempted what I thought would be a good move, I don't know what happened. But it struck me funny. Knowing that laughter is good for the abs, I went ahead and laughed for a bit. I tried a few more moves, then resorted to some core stretches--all while my feet remained in that unseen formerly supposed to be a good position.
After a few of those, I started to feel the burn so quit for today. The last thing I want to do is OVERdo! Realizing I needed to release my unseen feet from wherever they were in order to sit up, I did. With no warning whatsoever (it's probably in that missing instruction booklet), the inclined bench went whizzing downward to the end of the thing (you know, that thing at the bottom of the unit), and I came to a jolting, upside down halt.
I remained on the bench for a few more minutes, jiggling with laughter--I mean, doing more ab work, then fell off.
Don't worry, I didn't hurt myself. I'm well-padded.
As I laid there working on my abs, I wondered if you'd be interested in featuring me in one of your infomercials? I'm sure I have great genetic potential. Afterall, you should see my brother's abs. They don't jiggle at all.
Most sincerely,
Denise in Phoenix
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)