Somebody out there knows who Cephus Benner is.  If you’re that person, then you can truly appreciate this title.  For those of you who don’t know who Cephus Benner is, he’s a legendary badass of the military persuasion second only to the unfathomable baddass-ness of The Michael Chambers.  If you don’t know who Michael Chambers is, you better ask somebody.  But do it quietly, lest he should hear of your query and consume your young.

Anyway, Cephus said, and I quote (so don’t get on me about the language), “Son, I’d rather butt-f#$% a bobcat in a phone booth than run ten feet.”  At the time, we were talking about PT, which means it was probably about five in the morning on a Tuesday or something like that.  I was like twenty years old at the time, so I didn’t really relate.  But now I get it.  Thanks for the wisdom, Uncle Cephus.

As you might have imagined, “fornicating” with a bob cat in a phone booth is a laborious, often dangerous thing.  So is going to the gym every day when you’re my size.  Why, just yesterday I stepped on a skinny me (like a mini me, except skinny…see what I did there?) and nearly twisted my ankle on the way to the maniac machine.  Alas, I must brave the cold realm of the halls of fitness if I am ever to make it to the beach without scaring the tourists.  Off to the gym I go.

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