Anybody can Q a Rock City! What’s to do? Everyone, and I mean everybody across the nation, is telling me, Jingle Vader, you should be a Q at Rock City; you’ll make The World great again. [But it’s great already, duh!] I’m listening to America: although I’m an open-border kind of guy (all Uptowners are welcome), I know America is looking for a fine-tuned machine. I’m mean, got rocks; they’re yuge. Show ’em how it’s done. A fine PAX.– random mumblechatter
No disclaimer, because we’re not virgins at this. [T-claps to Walleye for posting with the real men on a Monday.] Just start off with 15 burpees OYO. Then the mosey begins. Lots of mumblechatter that the PAX is headed the wrong way. It’s a victory lap, boys. Then a warm-up COP to encourage the citizens. 35 SSHs in honor of Prez Kennedy, who was prez when YHC was born. Duct Tape then appears, looking as confused as Mike Pence talking to Mike Flynn; I wanted to assure him that I hadn’t talked to the Russians. But then in swooped Hawg like Theresa May to save the Brits from those dangerous Europeans. So 38 SSHs in honor of Prez Ford, who was prez when Hawg was born (or, so YHC guessed). Confusion is beginning to ensue: nothing to do but another 15 burpees OYO and then some more moseying.
What’s all this mumbblechatter about where are the rocks? Look at yourselves in the mirror: don’t you just thank the Lord that you’re you? Who needs rocks? We all got rocks. Time for some Andrew Jacksons (pull-yourself-up-by-your-own-bootstraps). Break up into four groups of threes: timer group does 10 pull-ups, while group 2 does squats, group 3 does merkins and group 4 does derkins. Switch around to do all four; then rinse and repeat with 8 pull-ups as the timer, then with 6, and finally with 4. If you don’t like the name Andrew Jacksons, try Woodrow Wilsons (as he was the 28th Prez 10+8+6+4=28). Then another 15 burpees OYO. So that’s 45 burpees for the New Guy.
Mosey to Bunker Hill for some Elevens (should have done Tens, because 1+2+3+4+5+6+7+8+9=45). LBCs from 10 to 1 on one side, and Jump Squats from 1 to 10 on the others with moseying in between.
After the PAX smoked the enemy, it was time for sitting around. To the wall for a low sit for 45 seconds or so. The first 35 seconds went fine. But when YHC tried to name the presidents from 35 onward, the blood flow was a little slow, so it was probably more like a minute, which is better anyway.
Mosey past the rock pile, where Hawg pined for calmer days when he could pick up an extra rock without any shame. But the PAX continued for a last Circle of Mary. 46 LBCs for the next President; then 35 American Hammers in honor of Kennedy’s keeping Krushchev at bay (kinda) and then a close out with 17 merkins in cadence (cause YHC thought the 17th prez was Lincoln, but Hawg reminded the PAX that Lincoln was 16, so YHC now dedicates those merkins to the first President to be impeached).
Mosey home for namorama, lots of special intentions, and then a COP. As crazy as it may seem here, we could have been born in Syria, South Sudan or Kandahar. We’re blessed more than we could know. So lift a prayer of thanksgiving for our great nation, and thank a soldier.
Moleskin: Hawg (or was it Tool?) figured out the theme: with the trump card, anything goes. You don’t need rocks at Rock City, just like you don’t need bikes at the Coastie or speedos at whatever Da Parish has renamed Waterworld. [I’ll be going to Okwata on Thursday, in case anyone is worried.]
Jingle Vader
