Real Men/Women of Genius #53

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Re-al men of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we salute you, Mr. Cheerfully Optimistic and Overly Encouraging Aid Station Guy.

{Mis-ter, weee knowwwwww what the cut-offfffffffs are!}

Yes, we’re wearing our watch. No, we’re not sitting here because we’re only just dimly aware of what ours and yours and the race’s total moral obligations are. We’re sitting here because it’s 3 AM and we’re whupped.

{“Doanchoo reeeeeee-a-liiiiiize how close to the deadddd-line this is?”}

Thank you for telling us just how far the next aid station and the turnaround are, and for the ultimate cutoff reminder. We need this information from you now because maybe there is some slight chance that we have not been obsessing over this very issue for every single step of the past 77-point-9 entire miles of this complete footrace.

{“You’re nevvvvvvvvvvv-ver gonnn-na make it!”}

Do we understand the potential futility of pounding ground all the way out to where we’ve got to reverse, and then pound it all the way back here to you–only to be cut? Yes, actually we do. And of course it’s only our total exhaustion that now prevents your whole head from being removed from your body for cheering us on so encouragingly like this.

{We haaaaaaaaave a hunnnn-ting knife in our drop baggggggg!}

“Have some soup”? Please. Maybe you could just lower the volume on your sarcasm a notch. Then please asphyxiate yourself totally to death by choking on your own damn half-filled styrofoam cup of toadal swampwater splashed over stiff unbending undercooked barely wet plastic noodles.

{Cuddddd-ent eeeeat thissss even with some-bod-y elllll-se’s mouth!!}

So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light from out of your car trunk, O Purveyor of Sandwiches and Conveyer of Good News, because, as much as we’d love to ram your foreboding down your throat and prove you wrong when we eventually do come back here after 15 MORE ugly miles, it kills us to admit: you’re right.

{Mis-ter Cheeeer-full-ly Opt-i-mis-tic an’ O-ver-ly Ennn-cour-rag-ging Aid Sta-tion Guyyy!}

Bud Light beer: we don’t care where it’s made; we just dig their commercials.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Yankee Folly of the Day:
We need a volunteer like this serving on the board of directors for British Petroleum. And of course there’s no hurry while Human Resources reviews his credentials; because, as long as there’s any clean water at all left in the world’s oceans, BP still has time before finishing the human race.