Thursday, June 19, 2008

A tail told by an idiot.

Let me tell you about my ass. It's not exciting. Or eloquent. Anatomically-speaking, it's an also-ran. Polite co-existence is about all the relationship I have with it. I never notice it--no matter which way I turn, it's behind me. And honestly, it's the last thing you'd notice about me.

In short, as Shakespeare once said, it's full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

So here's what's ironic; it's nothing to write home about, and it's preventing me from blogging. Because the excruciating pain I'm feeling in my right butt cheek keeps me from thinking deep, insightful thoughts to share with the internet.

I know what you're thinking: what's stopping her the rest of the time?

That's a very good question. And I'd answer it if the agony of my right butt cheek weren't short-circuiting the neurological equipment necessary to do the job.

The only thing I can wrap my brain around at the moment is the question of whom to blame for my current state of agony. My friend J., for deciding that we were going to walk for two hours and forty-five minutes on Monday? My friend J. again, for deciding that we needed to use the stair climber at the gym on Tuesday? Or the Maharani of Massage, for wrapping my right leg around my head and then sitting on me on Wednesday?

And it's not going to get any better. I'm going to be meeting with the Maharani of Massage four times a week. And a swim coach for two days a week.

Mark my words. Before you know it, I'll be lying in a hospital bed. In traction. Blogging by cell phone.


  1. ooooh. I'm hoping it's tired and stretched and not injured as ASS INJURIES tend to take a very long time to heal, which I know because my friend has one. An ASS INURY. Everyone has a ass. Or is one.

  2. On the up side, maybe you could jump on the Jen Lancaster band wagon and get a book deal about your love/hate relationship with your personal trainer. You could call it "Bright Lights, Sore Ass."

  3. Woman you are a sucker for punishment!!!

  4. That's what you get for strutting too hard. You should have crept in a petty pace. Now your ass will hurt tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. "Bleed on, my duff."

    My association to my ass and sound and fury? The aftermath of eating hummus. Out, damned fart! out, I say!

  5. Y'know, it's not a coincidence that Maharani of mASSage has ASS right in the middle of the word.

  6. What twaddle. You're clearly blogging out your ass.


  7. Now you fully understand the term pain in the ass.

  8. After reading your post, I think any objective reader would conclude that the maharani is tho blame.


  9. Atta girl! You're well on your way to madly loving your ass! That's some real ass-relationship changing stuff you're doin', keep it up!


  10. Thank you all for your kind words of support. I feel all verklempt. And my ass feels newly rubbery.

  11. Blogging by cell phone! You go girl!


Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.