Monday, August 15, 2011

That fucking kid...

Got a rugrat?  Me too, pain in my fucking ass.  I bought a fucking running stroller so I can take the little anklebiter with me on runs.  What does this fucking get me?  Well, on a longer run, I actually have to stop whilst dripping sweat from greasy wop forehead to wipe my daughter's ass.

Fuck this!

Can't do shit about it, but suck it up and push through.  I guess it's better than dragging a Christing Radio Flyer behind me.  But, shit, you'd know I was coming.  Rattlerattlerattle...

Point is, that stupid thing provides some resistance.  Plus, she's a fat little sausage, so schlepping 30 extra pounds on top of the 20 pound stroller gets my heart pumping fine.  Any fatter and I'd be kicking her around like a bunch 6-year olds playing soccer.  Once you don't have to push the tubby fuck-trophy on race-day you'll be flying so goddamned fast.

Who's got kids?  How do you cope?  Sound off, vaginafaggots!

EDIT: So you're all aware, I love my daughter with every bit of my soul.  Best.  Fuck-trophy.  Ever.

2 comments:

  1. My solution? I'm a lazy bitch and don't run. We have bikes and a bike stroller that's never been used. Awesome.

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