Happy Friday and go ‘Noles! Bobby’s butthole here. Even from our coral futon in the Spring Beach Villa Palm Island Retirement Center, Bobby and I can hear the dance bells ringing. It’s such a beautiful time of year, and quite an energizing end to midterms.
I can still remember my first dance marathon, as a voluntary chaperone. Bobby shook and shimmied me across the Civic Center ballroom, for thirteen hours straight! Sweat is an understatement, but we were sweaty in the best way.
Charity is important. It’s giving things to less fortunate beings, kind of like when the doctor gave Bobby Lomitil for our IBS.
One year I convinced Bobby to donate three hundo to the Dance Marathon cause (wowza!), and I hope those kids utilized it wisely, because Bobby hasn’t spent a dime on me since (joke)!
In all seriousness, Dance Marathon is certainly for the kids, but you have to remember to take care of yourself, too. Staying on your feet for extended periods of time can sure do a number on your intestinal tract, especially if you dance shortly after eating. Trust me, I know. A hot dog will slide down your tubes as smooth as a hot dog will go down an active garbage disposal. And in this instance I mean, your jivin’ body is like an active garbage disposal.
I suggest you pay close attention to my Dookieless Dance Marathon Guide if you’re spending your weekend at the Civic Center:
1.) Make sure to find and stick by exits closest to a bathroom or unlocked window at all times, in case of an emergency.
2.) Keep Pepto-Bismol, MiraLax, Imodium, Milk of Magnesia, Prevalite, Lotronex, or whatever your go-to gas meds may be in your pockets and/or fanny pack. What have you.
3.) Stay hydrated.
4.) Smile through the pain.
With that, I must bid you adieu; the fried PB&J Bobby ate twenty minutes ago is making its way through his lower intestine right about now. That gives me another tip I should add to all my guidebooks: always be prepared.
Good luck at DM this weekend, brothers and sisters. And as always, go ‘Noles!
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