This is not as much about that fact that moving is a nightmarish pain in the ass, but rather that whenever I move, or help someone else move, I am immediately made intensely aware of just how very out of shape I am. There's nothing quite like the feeling one gets after carrying three pillows up one flight of stairs and being subsequently winded for the following five minutes.
If only one could get / stay in shape by drinking gallons and gallons of beer.
1 comment:
"There's nothing quite like the feeling one gets after carrying three pillows up one flight of stairs and being subsequently winded for the following five minutes."
Fucking priceless. And so true.
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