Tuesday, June 17, 2008


Why is it that when people need shit lifted, and by "shit" I mean "cardboard boxes wrapped around bulgy, pointy rhinoceri" and by "lifted" I mean, "hoisted and lugged up multiple flights of stairs with tired, shaky hands," they always call me for help?

Don't you have a rippling, brawny strongman for that, so you can be all, "Oh, thank you, rippling, brawny strongman" and then drop your hankie and bend over or something to get him to ass-oggle?

I know. Ass-oggling aside, you don't need a Strongman. You have a Rassles, who is guaranteed oggle-free.

But instead of muscle, I run on obstinance. And that's way harder on the biceps.


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