I was driving along this afternoon with all the windows down—yesterday’s squall having blown the heat and humidity elsewhere, thank god—listening to Top 40 radio, and I realized
Of course, all it took was trying on two sports bras to crush my soul.
You take the good, you take the bad, I guess.
Three years ago, I learned when puberty begins.
Two years ago, I altered my to-do list, and good things happened. Well, one good thing happened.
Last year this time, I learned whether my dogs were good guard dogs.
What you may have missed on Fat CrossFitter: I did the Filthy Fifty for the third time, and I’m genuinely scared/have a very first-world problem.
Happy Retrobruxist Friday, y’all.