N
np426z
Guest
"Which man, child?"
"That man who makes Nike shoes, mummy"
"And what did he do to you, child?"
"Well, mommy, I went to the running store yesterday to buy some new
lightweight running shoes. I'm finding them surprisingly good at keeping
my ITB problems at bay, PLUS they make my feet feel so light all the girlies
faint as I go speeding by."
"That's nice, son, but try to remember the idea is to *catch* girlies, not
run past them with a moronic grin on your face."
"OK, mommy, I'll try my best. But what do I do with one when I've caught
one, mommy?"
"Now don't you worry your pretty little head about that, son. Uncle Wobbot
is being released from his 'holiday home ' next week. I'm sure he'll get
you up to speed on how to treat girlies and the like. Anyway, why do new
running shoes make you feel dirty?"
"Y'see Uncle Wobbot - and some of his friends - have always said that the
man who made Nikes was a bad, bad, man. He does unspeakable things to your
feet, your ankles, your knees, your thighs.......you see where I'm going
with this, don't you, mommy?"
"Yes son, I get the picture. This Mr Nike sounds a dreadful fellow."
"Indeed he is, mommy, indeed he is. Which is why I feel dirty."
"Oh no, son, you've not..."
"I'm afraid I have mommy. I let myself be seduced by the fit, comfort and
minimal yet appropriate support provided by the Nike Pegasus TC's. I even
went a quick seven-miler in the Jezebels, and found a level of running
ecstasy I find hard to describe."
"Ecstasy??? Ecstasy??? Wash your mouth out, you filthy little child!"
*SLAP!*
"That Mr Nike has corrupted your young mind already!"
*SLAP!* *SLAP!*
"Stop it mummy, you're hurting"
"I'll do more that hurt you, you young deviant, I'll leave you in a dark
room with Uncle Wobbot for half an hour if you don't bin those shoes
immediately."
"But, mommy, they seem *sooooo* nice. Can't I keep them for a few weeks?
Maybe Uncle Wobbot is right, and my legs - and other places - will start to
suffer. Wouldn't that be the best way to teach me the error of my ways?"
"I suppose so, son. I've only got your best interests a heart. I don't
want to see you going down that painful ITB route again this winter.
Still, if you think these are the answer I'm willing to let you try."
"Oh, mummy, you're the bestest, bestest, mommy in the whole wide world!"
"I know, son."
"I know you know, mommy."
They embrace...
"That man who makes Nike shoes, mummy"
"And what did he do to you, child?"
"Well, mommy, I went to the running store yesterday to buy some new
lightweight running shoes. I'm finding them surprisingly good at keeping
my ITB problems at bay, PLUS they make my feet feel so light all the girlies
faint as I go speeding by."
"That's nice, son, but try to remember the idea is to *catch* girlies, not
run past them with a moronic grin on your face."
"OK, mommy, I'll try my best. But what do I do with one when I've caught
one, mommy?"
"Now don't you worry your pretty little head about that, son. Uncle Wobbot
is being released from his 'holiday home ' next week. I'm sure he'll get
you up to speed on how to treat girlies and the like. Anyway, why do new
running shoes make you feel dirty?"
"Y'see Uncle Wobbot - and some of his friends - have always said that the
man who made Nikes was a bad, bad, man. He does unspeakable things to your
feet, your ankles, your knees, your thighs.......you see where I'm going
with this, don't you, mommy?"
"Yes son, I get the picture. This Mr Nike sounds a dreadful fellow."
"Indeed he is, mommy, indeed he is. Which is why I feel dirty."
"Oh no, son, you've not..."
"I'm afraid I have mommy. I let myself be seduced by the fit, comfort and
minimal yet appropriate support provided by the Nike Pegasus TC's. I even
went a quick seven-miler in the Jezebels, and found a level of running
ecstasy I find hard to describe."
"Ecstasy??? Ecstasy??? Wash your mouth out, you filthy little child!"
*SLAP!*
"That Mr Nike has corrupted your young mind already!"
*SLAP!* *SLAP!*
"Stop it mummy, you're hurting"
"I'll do more that hurt you, you young deviant, I'll leave you in a dark
room with Uncle Wobbot for half an hour if you don't bin those shoes
immediately."
"But, mommy, they seem *sooooo* nice. Can't I keep them for a few weeks?
Maybe Uncle Wobbot is right, and my legs - and other places - will start to
suffer. Wouldn't that be the best way to teach me the error of my ways?"
"I suppose so, son. I've only got your best interests a heart. I don't
want to see you going down that painful ITB route again this winter.
Still, if you think these are the answer I'm willing to let you try."
"Oh, mummy, you're the bestest, bestest, mommy in the whole wide world!"
"I know, son."
"I know you know, mommy."
They embrace...