Real Men/Women of Genius #85

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Re-al men of geeeeeene-yuss!}

Today we salute you, Mr. Shorts-and-Singlet Wearer No Matter What The Weather Is Like For Your Race.

{Mis-ter “jac-kets-hats-mitttt-tens-and-tights are toooooooooo con-fiiiii-ning!”}

All we have to do to feel warm inside is just take a quick gawk at you. It’s wintertime, the days are shortened, gale-force winds are howling, there’s snow and ice all throughout the woods and all over these trails, and you are scampering half-naked through the snowdrifts. And no, your girlfriend is *not* impressed.

{“It’s wonnnnn-der-fullllll-ly freeeeeeee-ing!”}

It’s Five Degrees Above Zero Fahrenheit! And that’s just the ambient temperature. Factor-in the “wind chill” and you are now running in colder conditions than the deep-freeze inside our garage.

{“Butttttttt I have nevvvvvvv-ver raced in an-y-thing BUT shorts!”}

We don’t even stick our bare hands in there to grab tonight’s package of Birds-Eye Peas. We keep extra mittens on a nearby hook for just that purpose. The freezer is where next Thanksgiving’s turkey is. Maybe we should amend that. YOU are very likely to be next Thanksgiving’s turkey.

{“I’ll b-b-b-beeeee warmmmmmmmmmm e-nough if I juh-juh-juh-just keeeeeeep moooooo-ving!”}

We hope, for example, that you’re not overheated. We realize that the Summer Games generally take place during the summer, and if you’re going to win, say, the Olympic marathon, you’re not going to want to be overburdened with extra clothing. But for that you might consider practicing on the streets of Miami, rather than during a blizzard in the woods of Northern Minnesota.

{“I o-o-o-on-ly havvvvvvve th-th-th-thir-tyyyyy more miles to runnnnnnn!”}

So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light–after you thaw it first–O Mr. Trying-To-Keep-Cool Speed Racer, because we are all completely blown away by your focus on minimalism and unrestricted turnover, as well as your frostbite. Deep down, we know you think that you *believe* you’re speedy–and that this is the only way to run–so we’ll resist calling an ambulance on our cell phones. All bets are off, though, when we pass the 30K point and find you stiff and “on ice” and lying blue by the trailside–at which time we *might* be Good Samaritan enough to lend you a frozen water bottle in an attempt to warm you up, and a spare pair of gloves to handle it with.

{Missssss-ter Shorts-aaaaand-Sing-let Wear-errrrrr No Mat-ter What-The-Wea-ther-Is-Like-For-Your-Raaaaaaaaaace!}

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

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Yankee Folly of the Day:
But now we wonder, if you’re living on the West Coast, how shorts and singlet might fare in nuclear fallout?