No, It's Not A 'corpse

The Best Thing About Being 45 Is Not Taking Myself So Seriously.

I’m Instantly Mortified By My Fat, Uncontrollable Mouth, But That’s When It Occurs To Me That My Humor Is A Self-defense Mechanism. Even Though I May Come Off Like A Stark Raving Asshat, Being Funny Is The Most Important Tool I Have To Stay Sane. The Ability To Say What I Think Is The Key To Allowing Me To Feel In Control.

Despite My Best Efforts, I'm Not Quite Perfect. Let's Just Say I'm Like One Of Those Hopi Blankets Where They Leave A Tiny Flaw So As To Not Affront The Lord.

Really? If I Could Hate My Trainer? That Would Be Ideal. I'd Prefer To Despise This Person With The Fire Of Ten Thousand Suns. So When I Walk - Nay, Crawl - Out Of Here At The End Of My Workouts, I Want To Lull Myself To Sleep By Picturing My Very Talented And Inspirational Trainer Getting Hit By A Bus. A Bus That I Am Driving.

Owning A Dog Is Slightly Less Expensive Than Being Addicted To Crack.