OK, so, no, no anticlimaxes, no death of irony, nothing. Go away. Leave me alone. I couldn't come up with anything, OK? My mind is a vast plain of beige. Just like your face. There you go. That's what you want, isn't it? Stupid tête-à-tête loving fuckers.
I covered driving, as well as public transport, and I've covered weather (yes, my omnipresence stretches even beyond the realms of plausibility); today, I will talk about walking. I will mainly focus on the reasons I don't like walking, because... well, they're numerate, and the reasons I like walking are... well, absent. Let's do a mythbusters version of walking! Yeah, join the party. Do it.
1) Walking is good for you.
For starters, so is sleeping, if you're going to make such arbitrary generalisations. They both burn piddling amounts of calories, and they're both things I don't enjoy (fat insomniac). So, if it's not good for you is it bad for you? Yes; I think it is: It makes you cranky and thus makes it impossible to maintain friendships (true), it makes you tired (see above), it makes you hot (see thyroid), and it gets you fucking nowhere. Honestly... walking is the physical representation of the doughnut on a stick you see in any generic cartoon - you never get where you're going; you just... keep walking, and distance stretches forever. The smallest stretch of road becomes Route 66, the most gradual of inclines becomes the ascent of Ben Nevis, and your feet feel like a racially stereotyped Chinese woman. For example: I work at a 'local' bookshop (It's almost a guarantee that the tagline of the shop includes the word "local", you know why? That's its selling point. If you ever see the words "Your local *amenity*" then you can dismiss it as worthless. If I ran this company the tag would be: "Your fucking awesome bookshop of dreams" - well,... it would be if our clientele wasn't exclusively people who get mobility benefits. Parenthesis lol); and this bookshop is located around 2 miles away (convert it, retard) from my house - a trifle for anyone endowed with the proper amount of phalanges. Or... is it? No. It takes fucking ages. Every time I walk it I have a mini-race with the bus. Let me just contextualise that.
If you haven't read my bus post, you should, for a few reasons: It's much better than this bilge, and it's really true. The bus gets you nowhere, slowly.
So, I have a mini-race with the bus... over the weeks this has now racked up my starting 18 minutes before the bus gets to the 'local' stop (and that is the best way to describe it) and it still chugs past me when I am around a mile away. How slow am I walking? The world should be going backwards. Maybe that's what's happening? Tomorrow at 9.32 am: Stop what you are doing, and wait. If the world seems to slow down, start reversing, or the equilibrium entirely shatters and the space/time continuum is ripped asunder, let me know, please, that would explain everything.
Maybe it's me? Maybe I've got tiny legs? Well, I have, but I don't think it's that. I think it's just the fact that we're not hunter gatherers anymore - when was the last time you gathered anything? Myself? Probably gathering the will to get out of bed this morning, and I don't think that counts. When was the last time you hunted? I can almost guarantee the answer is 'never'. And if it's not that, and it also involves the word 'children', stop reading, go to a police station, and confess. You prick.
So there it is: Walking helps you lose weight/the biggest fallacy of all time. Gillian McKeith can fuck off; all it does it make me doubt myself.
2) Walking is fun.
Ramblers of the world unite! No, please, do, it'll make it easier to slap you all fucking stupid. There is nothing fun about walking. The fresh air, you say? Yeah, wind down the car window. Better yet: sit in the garden, effortless and gusty. The health benefits, you say? You've clearly never read me. You get to wear a platypus, you say? Yeah, that makes you a cunt. It whiles away the hours, you say? You know what else does? Everyfuckingthing. That's not a justification for doing something as a hobby. I can do anything, or nothing, and it'd be whiling away the hours. Do you have no concept of words or meaning? Do you just open your mouth and let the words flop out? Walking is fun, you say? You clearly haven't seen the Olympic events in walking. They. Are. The. Best. Things. Ever. If that was how you had to walk, I would probably enjoy it more. There needs to be a demarcation by the Walking Around Nano-accruing Kinetic Energy Rambling Society: i) Walking for a hobby is "fun", ii) Walking professionally makes you look like such a tosser, and is in no way fun. Then perhaps I'd be able to get on board with it.
Walking is relaxing, you say? No, it really isn't. You know what is? Beer. In the sun. In the garden. On the veranda. Somewhere that's within twelve-feet of where I am now. That's fun.
3) Walking centres your ch'i/Relaxes your mind, body, and spirit.
Few things here: Ch'i is ridiculous, mind and spirit are pawned off non-entities fawned over by thirty-something manic depressants seeking affirmation of stupidity in written form; oh, and it doesn't relax your body at all. In fact... it's the complete opposite. It makes me annoyed. Why? The reasons above.
The only time walking should happen is if you suffer from a mild form of depression, or any other mental disorder - then a dual-prescription of hearty exercise and a massive dose of beta-blockers might combine to make you feel better. Otherwise: Fuck it. If I ever develop psychosis, it'll be because of walking.
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