When Cranky Fitness changed web addresses last week, Crabby wrote a little poem about it. She hoped the appalling weirdness of her verse would shock you all into changing your bookmarks. She even fantasized that the announcement would generate some Technorati mojo for her brand new, Zero-Authority blog.
And, well, it helped! Thank you, all of you who have re-linked and re-bookmarked to the new www.crankyfitness.com.
So Crabby is not going to let herself get depressed about starting all over from zero. She's not even sure what Technorati numbers are supposed to be good for, other than boosting one's bleego. (Bleego is a word Crabby just made up for "Blog Ego," an easy-to-injure sense of blog-worth. Someone else may have already coined the term but Crabby hasn't read of it yet, so it doesn't count. Bleego is sort of like self-worth, but more twisted and geeky. Excessive bleego can cause undue fascination with stats and resentment of other more successful blogs; best to keep bleego well in check).
Anyway. After subjecting poor readers to her tortured rhymes about blog URLs last week, Crabby asked if anyone else had any to share, and guess what?
The answer was yes!
Many witty poems appeared in the comments section to that post. Go here to read the awesome contributions of Marijke, Kristen, Missicat, Melissa, P.O.M., Jim, Mary, Susan, and The Bag Lady!
(And make sure you click some of their links, too, and sample further cleverness on their very fine blogs).
But a couple of great poems were also sent in by email, and Crabby thought she'd share them with you all since many of you already had the chance to read the earlier ones. (And pssst: Got any more? If any of you have health or blog-related silly poems or haiku to share, please email them to Crabby and she'll hang onto them for future postings!)
So first up is a poem by our good friend Hilary at The Smitten Image.
I'll Diet Tomorrow
Went grocery shopping and what did I buy?
Nothing fattening at all - so stoic was I,
'Cause I saw all the cookies and pistachio nuts
And I knew if I bought them, they'd go straight to my butt
I ignored all the ice cream and potato chips
And all of the junk that just inflates my hips.
I was ever so strong, and my resolve was the same
When I heard the dark chocolate call out my name
I came home again, put the groceries away
Proud of the willpower I had summoned today.
I made a light lunch, nothing fattening of course.
I was bound and determined I'd have no need for remorse.
I thought I'd see what my next blog post would entail
But first I remembered to go check my mail.
A plain package was waiting, a simple disguise,
I had no way of knowing it would do harm to my thighs.
I opened the wrapping and dug deep down inside
Where lots of my favourites were trying to hide.
I saw fudge chunks and cocoa and dark chocolate chips
And I knew it meant trouble if they dared touch my lips.
There was Hershey and Baker's, Godiva and Lindt
And sweet Ghiradelli with almonds and mint.
My willpower weakened in the course of a blink
And I could already feel my jeans start to shrink.
So I'll diet tomorrow, or next week, month or year
I'll approach it with purpose, be firm and austere.
I'll go back to the right food, the veggies and greens
And hopefully then, reunite with my jeans.
Awesome, thank you Hilary!
And so next is a poem by another Cranky Fitness pal, Vanilla at Half-Fast. Vanilla explains that his poem was inspired by one Shel Silverstein wrote called "Sick." And though Vanilla ran this on his blog before, he allowed me to steal it and run here too. Enjoy!
"I cannot run this race today,"
Said Half-Fast, while in bed he lay.
"I pulled my hamstring and my groin,
I have a serious swelling in every loin.
My feet are blistered, my ankle's sprained,
And what if I have over-trained?
My arches have fallen to the floor,
My body feels like it's ninety-four,
I've got shin splints, athlete's foot and stitches,
And now my kneecap really itches.
My heel is burdened by Achilles Tendonitis,
Or it might just be Plantar Fasciitis,
Either way I should stay at home,
And not risk Patellofemoral Syndrome.
My feet are too slow, my legs are too fast,
And what if I keep getting passed?
I once heard that running can cause arthritis,
I'm already developing Hip Bursitis.
My quad's are too loose, my hamstring's too tight,
My left leg's faster than my right.
My calves have turned a dark shade of orange,
I got my toe caught in a door-hinge,
It caused a muscle tear, just partial,
And I know it broke my metatarsal.
I have Iliotibial Band Syndrome, or I.B.S.
And look! My hair is such an awful mess.
I dislocated my funny bone,
I'm sure I suffer from Plica Syndrome,
I have Tennis Elbow, and my belly is -- what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today's the scheduled pre-race rest day?
G'bye, I’m off to carbo-load and eat soufflé."
Another great one, thanks Vanilla!
Problem is, these folks are setting the bar for health and fitness poetry way too high. It's time for Crabby to lower it again!
Oatmeal with flax
May prevent heart attacks.
But pastries with icing
Are far more enticing.
Have a silly Monday, everyone!