To be clear, I hate burpees
Some things simply should not be
I'd like to preface this blog by stating emphatically, in no uncertain terms, that exercise (see definition: cruel and unusual punishment ) is of the devil (see definition: exercise). I mean, let’s be honest. There is no way the human body should have to tolerate such rigor in the name of the almighty beach bod. I have certainly never read in my Human Being Instruction Manual anything that mandated that I engage in any activities that make me lose bodily fluids faster than I gain them. I’ve read it, and it’s just not there, so please. Please. I beg you: let me keep my flabby gut and saggy man-breasts.
Exercise falls into the same category as Yanni music. It’s arguably unnecessary, you're bound to be let down, and, when played at a slower tempo, it may just stop your heart. Programs like “Insanity” are named that way for good measure. I believe P90X stands for Probably 90 Minutes Left Until You Expire. And Taebo means Little Kicking Bird Who Eat Rice and Stay Thin Which Impossible Because Reason.
But there is one activity that jolted back into my memory recently, which I must address. It’s a topic of constant scorn and ridicule, because it’s an activity that transforms the average human into one of those flailing inflatable tube men.
(Hey is that a Dairy Queen behind them?!?!?!)
I’m talking about the shameful and indefatigably evil procedure known as the Burpee, and I would like to submit that it should only be for those in active-duty military because they are trained to be voluntarily abused.
My brothers and sisters, this activity simply should not exist. I was graced with an endoskeleton and a spine, which I am told are not supposed to bend like noodles. Perhaps I am different from other humans in that capacity. Mine are not capable of transforming into jelly at the whim of some barely accredited fitness instructor for the viewing pleasure of teenagers who come prepackaged with DNA that facilitates expert mockery.
Also, maybe it’s just me, but any word that contains a suffix or prefix with the word “burp” in it is very funny to me. This is because I am apparently still 13. Burps are funny as early as age 4, and I can prove this to you by injecting Coca-Cola into my 4-year-old and then loaning him to you for an hour.
But whereas a burp may be inherently funny, the word “Burpee” tends to sap all of the happiness right out of me, especially when demanded by someone who is about as thin as a wafer, which is a thinness that I fear I shall never be unless I take a nap in front of a moving steamroller. I remember one instance where my fitness instructor told me to get some Burpees in, and she was alarmed to see that I had disappeared entirely, only to reappear in a few moments with a thick slushy ice drink. It is not my fault that she said Slurpee: my hearing appointment wasn't until the next day.
Fit as a Fat Fiddle
Why am I talking about this? Because we, as voice talents, need exercise. We are very sedentary, because Voice Talents ultimately come from the same Latin origin of Homeo Slothimus Collapsicus Dontcareicus, which is where I believe the rest of all humanity hails from.
We don’t want to do all that working out and sweating and needlessly perfecting ourselves, when our easy chair is right there, we’ve already got our triple-Eggnog-with-marshmallow-and-seventeen-Splendas-mocha, and we’re wearing our Lycra spandex that highlights everything that is supposed to stay concealed to hide our dear-God-put-that-away-my-eyes!-kill-it-before-it-spreads hideousness, spread out on the couch for Judge Judy reruns.
We’re sitting and editing audio all day, and with each keystroke or mouse movement to edit those .wav files, waves of fat are developing in our underbelly.
And to compound things, 2021 is coming: a whole new year, full of resolutions that we will swear by on January 1st and will change our lives all the way through January 2nd, at which point a national forum will be held to abolish the politically-incorrect word, “resolution.” They will in fact be resolved to remove it. (See what I did there?) But we must do our part to remove our fat, before it grows Violet-Beauregarde-style into a big round mess of near-bursting magnitude.
We’re voice talent. We need air to breathe. Air comes from healthy lungs. Healthy lungs are positioned in close proximity to the stomach. If the stomach is bulging, healthy lungs cannot expand properly, depriving us of the ability to inhale air so that we can get up and grab our remote and chocolate and beer. My friends, you see how urgent and dire our need is. We must have our remote and chocolate and beer in order to survive. This is why my wife and I deliberately bore children, who we named Servant 1 and Servant 2. They are superb at fetching remotes and chocolate and beers.
So! Let’s get physical. Thanks Olivia! Let me hear your body talk.
Trimming the Fat
First things first, before we figure out how to make ourselves thin and healthy again, I must offer a warning. Be sure and steer clear of old people, as well as the elderly, who are old people dipped in malice. The reason for this is because they will tell you the truth about your physical fitness or lack thereof, whether you requested any such thing of them. For example:
- Josh: “don’t I look good in this outfit?”
- Old person: “why, no, no you don’t. You should begin exercising at once so that you can start losing those 4,392 extra pounds of whale blubber.”
- Josh: “I see. And may I ask why you just go on living and living with no end in sight?”
Or an alternate example:
- Josh: “What time is it?
- Old person: “Oh my! Heavens to Betsy. It looks like you've gained even more weight than the last time I saw you!”
- Josh: “I see. Here. Drink this keg of Metamucil.”
I mentioned such exchanges in a previous blog.
But there: now that you’ve bypassed those who look like this:
…you can start to have confidence to begin the process of working your magic sorcery to look like this:
We need confidence to exercise, to commit to goals, to ensure that we’re going to balance this sedentary career with lots and lots of exercise. In the pandemic world in which we’re currently embroiled, we must get out and get some fresh air. Breathe in, breathe out…
Or…at least that’s what the paramedic tells me when he finds me collapsed in a crumpled heap on the side of the road after having attempted a Burpee during my morning run, er, walk.
Now get out there and do some good collapsing! Voice Talents need air to read scripts! Go get some good air! And if you’d like to skip the exercising process altogether, they also have special supplemental oxygen tanks you can steal from old people.
Here’s to great fitness with no burpees and more Slurpees!
NOTE: This blog is purely for commentary / educational / entertainment purposes. I make no money from these blogs; though I do not refuse large cash gifts if it means I can pretend I'm a church.
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