RAMBO

First matter of business...
I have a new blog design.
You probably signed on this thing and screamed.
AAAAARGGGH! My eyes!
But fear not, for I knoweth not if I like it, it may be gone soon.

Matter of business #2.
I played my 1st game of RAMBO the other day.
Yes.
Maybe that's lame? Have I not lived yet?
No one knows.
Anyway, the purpose of the game is to get from one point to another within a certain perimeter without getting caught by the cops.
But seeing as the small town I live in has a running total of, like... 4 cops, we had to choose a couple to sneak around and scare the crap out of the rest of us. If they shine their brights on you, you are a GONER.
So, I group up with a lovely team of little spies, and we're sneaking our way around the city... diving into bushes whenever we hear the terrifying sound of a diesel truck.
(One of our four cops could have gotten called!)
And our wonderful wolf pack leader decides... let's run!
And I'm like...
Oooohhhh.... Batman's shorts.
Let me tell you a quick thing.
When it comes to, like, pilates, or yoga, I'm a freaking beast. I'm pretty tough.
But when it comes to running, I'm pretty... TUFF. (Totally un-freaking fast.)
Also, winter has caused me to be reeeeeaaaaallllyyyyyyyyyyy not in shape.
(And I'm pretty oddly shaped now, too.)
Also, I have the lungs of like, an acorn.
I CAN'T FREAKING BREATHE!
So I'm panting along, trying to keep up, like the little fat nugget in gym class...
And my team is calling to me. "ALI! Come on! Keep up!"
And that's when I let out a Queen Bathmorda-esque scream...
IIIIIIIIMMMMMPPPPOOOOOSSSSSSSSIIIIIIBBBBBLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEE!!!
And then I get flamed by my own magic lightning.
No.
But still.
Needful to say, we made it to the stake center alive.
Scratched, bleeding, dirty and tired, with wolves nipping at our heels,
But alive. And victorious.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of stupid youtube videos, and me hunched in a corner trying to sleep while my friends are punching me and sticking their fingers in my ears.
No bueno.