workin' out!

believe it or not, this shit JUST WENT DOWN! seriously. not five days, five weeks, or even five years ago! it just happened- barely five minutes ago! what on earth motivated me to get these up so quickly? how about a twenty-four inch tall firecracker, and my personal trainer, straight from the heart of mother russia, or, more like the armpit, chad randy's eastern european cousin, the slavic slammer, the human headlock, eighteen pounds of pain- ladies and germs, i give you-

IVAN TOUSKAVIC!

 (he threatened to punch my face if i didn't put these up right away.)

"LETS. GET. TO. WORK." 

i'm going to need my workout clothes. can you wait a sec?

 "I. SUPPOSE."

 "ONE. HA. HA. IS. OLD. JOKE. YOU'RE. NOT. LAUGHING. WHY."

when ivan got dressed in his sweatsuit (sweating pants, sweating jacket), i realized he really needed the sneaks that grampa steve gave to bebe when she was first born to complete the outfit:

we kind of missed the window with these, because by the time she was walking her feet were too big to wear them. that, of course, didn't stop us from trying. we jammed her big feet into them anyway, and she thought it was awesome until we stood her up. she took one step and burst into tears, then another and fell flat on her face. having these cute little nikes is the ENTIRE reason we had another kid, so i'd be damned if we were missing the window this time around. cue ivan, the hungarian hammer.

"WE'LL. WARM. UP. WITH. CARDIO." 

 "ARE. YOU. THERE. GOD."

 "IS. ME. IVAN."

 "NUTHINK."

"HOKAY. YOU. WORM. LET'S. GET. TO. WORK. I. WILL. BREAK. YOU."

uh...

"THEN. I. WILL. REBUILD. YOU. ONLY. TO. BREAK. YOU. AGAIN. AND. THEN. I. WILL. REBUILD. YOU. AGAIN. BUT. THIS. TIME. I. WILL. LEAVE. SOME. PIECES. OUT. AND. PUT. OTHERS. IN. BACKWARDS. IT. WILL. BE. FUNNY. AH. HA. HA."

yikes.