The Fitness Journey
I started a new fitness program. Day one went great: I drove to the gym, looked at it from the parking lot, and drove home.
Day two: I did not even drive there. That is what I call progress — I cut the commute time in half.
I started a new fitness program. Day one went great: I drove to the gym, looked at it from the parking lot, and drove home.
Day two: I did not even drive there. That is what I call progress — I cut the commute time in half.
Knock, knock. Who’s there? Committed. Committed who?
I tried to fix my sagging ceiling by nailing a giant piece of toast to the joists, but the whole thing collapsed anyway.
My friend asked me if I felt like I was getting older, so I told him I’m starting to feel like a rare, historical artifact.
Knock, knock. Who’s there? Passive voice. Passive voice who?
My smartphone is so incredibly advanced that it can translate ancient Greek in real-time and map the entire observable universe. Yet, the moment I walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water, it loses the Wi-Fi signal and acts like we've traveled back to 1994.
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