Cool for the Summer? NOT!!! (Introducing the Flash)

As I write this one I'm literally listening to Demi Lovato's Cool For the Summer which sounds like what sex looks like in 2015. At first you're looking and thinking about how interesting they are, then you're talking or dancing and you're thinking about how shaggable they are. And the next thing you know there are feathers, you're on top of a car, there's a finger in every hole, you're being whipped, there are people everywhere, you see Bill Cosby, there's a nipple ring, toes are curling, there's a swing, camera's are flashing, there's a video and in the morning, you're appropriately hung over and bruised.

All I'll say about that song is, the Disney kids have grown up and they don't look like Disney kids anymore. When I see them I think, "Hot damn! When the twenties happen they happen!"

So it's officially summer time. I can see August from my window. Typically I'd be out there prowling the streets with bodies on my mind and minds on my body. But I can't this year because I missed the summer body memo. I didn't read the million and one articles on GQ about splitting the one pack six ways, and I certainly didn't read that spaghetti strands were best seen on plates and not on torsos. As if all of that weren't enough, I fell ill recently. A five day bout of malaria had me looking like I'd been living on a diet of crumbs, dirt and coffee for the past year. All of this means that I will still get shirtless because I have the soul of a nudist and I won't care that I'm not your body type because it's my body: your thoughts don't live here.

Anyway, the other day, I started thinking about how good it'd be to be fit again. I'd like to be able to do things fit people do like:
  •  Run a five minute mile - If I did this I would drop dead and die. I can't handle it. I actually cannot. 
  • Jump over a 6 foot fence - If those hyenas come down from the savannah it'll be Afam for dessert. I currently don't weigh enough for a main course. 
  • Swim a kilometre - when the river and the ocean gods get mad at us for all the sand filling we've been doing I won't be able to swim to safety. I'll die. 
  • Not have 25% body fat. This is true. It is terrible but understandable. Yesterday I had ice cream for breakfast. This is what happens when you wake up and your first thought is vanilla, two scoops.
 Because of these feelings I decided that it was time that I went to talk to a running professional I chose one of the most famous ones out there. I chose the flash. It was an interesting conversation. Once he started talking, I couldn't get him to stop, so I'm going to be lazy and tell you everything that he told me.

Enter the flash. 

Afam my dear chap, you want to start running don't you. It's a good activity. I quite recommend it. It'll tighten up all the bits of you that are more fat than anything else at this point, and when you walk down the street you won't look like you've run a marathon.

The first thing that you want to do is stretch.

Yes. Just like that. I know people would say that I look like a pervert but look at that form. Just look at it. If I look like a pervert then I look like a pervert god and anyone who knows anything about anything knows that looking like a pervert god is better than looking like a mortal. And I know that this pose isn't really thought of as stretching but it is. The butt cheeks are clenched, and the abs are tense. As far as I know, this is the best stretch for the core. 
The next thing you want to do is sniff your pitts. You're meant to be stinky after you've begun the run and not a moment before it. Believe me. You know how hard you've worked out by how smelly you are at the end. If you're not smelly at the end then you haven't done nearly enough.  After this you're good to go.
Set off with a bang, or a flash.

Watch out for Okadas.
Let them overtake you. Your mother's vagina did not open the gates of life so that you would spend your life hustling with okadas (scooters). 

When you're done, wait a second, take a minute, and take a shit. I mean it.
Like that.

I feel quite proud of myself now because not enough people talk about how important it is for your bowels to work efficiently. This is prime outside poopoo technique, and it's good for your thighs. It's like the plank, but for your arse. And this is one of the reasons why I love Lagos. All of it is a toilet. Whenever you need to go, just go. Make like Shakira and go, "Whenever, wherever, your poo and the ground were meant to be together." After your run you can chill. You could go to the beach and sit like so
or do some yoga like stuff like so
 and you can definitely lean back and think about your life like so.

Or you can take a relaxing swim like so.

As the flash said those words he died. Right there. He died. I couldn't even call an ambulance or anything. The good thing is we'll never see that costume again, and the bad thing is I lost a friend like that. Everyone needs a flash right?

Happy Days,

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