Is it me or does there seem to be something extremely perverse and perverted about “Big Daddy’s Toy”?

Or. It’s me. I’m the one with the foul mind. That could be way more likely.

Saw this on my walk with B, which I just recently returned from. Currently, I’m attempting to recover. I’m going to blame this post walk exhaustion on the heat.

You have all borne witness. You read how much I {and Brother} walk B. It’s not like I’m not used to pounding some serious pavement mileage. But today. Whew. Today it hit both of us.

I had to stop in to see my Guru at his shoe repair store.

Alright. Fine. You got me. Really B and I needed a break. Thankfully he had the AC kickin’ and gave B treats and water. I had some, too. Water, not treats. I can’t eat when I’m feeling hot and sweaty. Grosses me out.

And if you must know, since I already mentioned the “S” word — I can’t stand being all sweaty. Or am I supposed to say, all glistening? Whatever. Same thing. Sweaty is just being more direct and to the point.

While I might abhor the thought of sweat, I do firmly believe, that it’s important to get out and move and sweat {at least a little} everyday. It’s a nice reminder that I’m getting the heart rate up and flushing out toxins. But. It doesn’t mean I have to like it dripping down my face.

Gosh. If only I had Big Daddy’s Toy to cool me off.

Joking! That is a joke. I mean come on now, what do you take me for … some Ford F 1-50 playa?