Friday. My weekend has started! Why on earth would I schedule a workout with my trainer? (Yes, I have a trainer. There is no way in the world I could possibly drag my lazy self to the gym if I didn't pay this CrazyMan to meet me there at an appointed time to show me how to do things I've been doing since 7th grade.)
Nick and I used to play baseball in the yard and because there were just two of us we'd have to have "Ghostmen" to hold the spots on the bases. Hmmm...I wonder if I can send a Ghostman to the gym today? (And I'd like to reap the benefits of the workout please and thank you.) Let's see if this works. Ghostman to the gym!!!! Ghostman to the gym!! Ghostman to the gym!! (like Beetle Juice, Beetle Juice, Beetle Juice!) Dang. Nothing happened. Now where are my sneakers?
Incrediable....you are halairious!Ghostman....man I wish he would mow our yard...or better yet..when you and Nick were growing up ..he could of raked your 6 piles of pine straw!
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