Boston, MA – Here is another reason why you shouldn’t run the Boston marathon today unless you are an elite runner. You spent months training to intentionally put yourself through Hell for the next 4 to 12 hours, and your friend, who will spend the day whining about “being on her feet all day” and her “gross underboob sweat”, holds a sign to motivate you while wearing a t-shirt that symbolizes her love for snack cakes. She woke up this morning and must have been torn between the vented Nike wicking material shirt, and the other one that says she’s Best Friends Forever with Little fucking Debbie. Imagine you’re right around mile 12, with your brain teetering on the brink of madness. A feeling of calm washes over you as you finally see your friends that promised they’d be there, cheering you on for the ground you’ve already covered and the long road that still lies ahead. They promise they’ll help you replenish your electrolytes, and then you see this asshole looming on the horizon, the corners of her mouth caked with donut powder, trying to offer you a caramel mochiatto and a chocolate-covered Swiss Roll. Believe me, the onlookers will completely understand if you blurt out “not really a good time for desserts, cunt.”
"We want to hear all about your marathon after we get something to eat!"
LMAO
Thanks Greenbean. Sorry you had to see that bad language, but it was necessary.
Martin