Defensive Back

8 thoughts on “Defensive Back”

  1. Oh my gosh…I am dying laughing! This is hysterical! You are too funny, Darc!

    Maybe I could introduce my back to your back. They have the same complaints. They’d get along famously. 😉

    HA! And a great time will be had by all, right D? Send ‘er over! 🙂

  2. Wow. Your back hates you. And it’s a lot more aggressive than my back. Mine says, “I don’t really feel up to it, but if you insist, I guess I could do one more thing…”

    This is funny.

    Thanks. 🙂 Yeah, my back hates me, and I hate it right back. We have that kind of “relationship”.

  3. My back doesn’t say those things to me, my feet do. “Gained another person.” HAHAHA! That’s exactly how my feet feel. Now my ankles (cankles) have started to chime in. Won’t be long before my knees and hips have their say. It’s hell getting old (and fat).

    And I’m well into both! I can feel your pain!

  4. Your back and my ankle need to talk. 🙄 Dane, I loved this. I swallowed hole, it was fantastic. When you are on, amazing.

    Thanks, Sara. Glad you liked it. 🙂

    *This poem was written for my niece Shari’s 18th birthday. Her Grandmother Camille died at a very young age in her 50s after suffering with lung cancer for 5 years. I worked at City of Hope as a volunteer for two years. And in the meantime regarding your cigarettes, this is for you:

    No More Cigarettes
    by Sara Fryd

    Some smoke ‘cause they want to stay thinner.
    Some smoke to stop biting their nails.
    Some smoke ‘cause they think they’ll be sexy.
    Some smoke when they’re riding the rails.

    There’s a place I go when I’m lonely.
    There’s a place I go when I’m sad.
    Mostly, I really don’t want to
    Inhale smoke from my cigarettes.

    Some smoke to be accepted.
    Some smoke ‘cause they want to belong.
    Some smoke because it’s a habit.
    Some smoke when they’re writing a song.

    There’s a place I go when I’m frightened.
    There’s a place I go when I’m mad.
    Mostly, I really don’t want to
    Inhale smoke from my cigarettes

    I am sure you think I am preaching.
    I am sure I sound like your Mom.
    I wish it was easy to get ‘round this.
    I’m talking to you, to Lisa to Tom.

    First your throat will start to hurt you.
    Then your lungs won’t get enough air.
    Then the smoke begins to inhabit
    Your clothes, your skin, and your hair.

    There’s a reason the companies did this,
    Philip Morris, Camel, and Kents.
    They can roll up a really cheap product,
    And make a whole lot of cents.

    They target teenagers like you
    To think you’ll be sexier when,
    You start smoking their brand or others.
    You’ll die a slow death in the end.

    If you think I’m trying to scare you,
    You are totally absolutely correct.
    I’ve watched too many friends perish,
    And die a very young death.

    Have flowers to smell on your birthday,
    Not some to cover your grave.
    What can I do to help you?
    You are important enough to save.

    You probably think I’m a meany.
    You probably think I’m a rat.
    I am certain it’s all right to hate me.
    Just stop smoking those cigarettes.

    I want to dance at your wedding,
    To rock your daughter or son.
    I really hate going to funerals,
    On days when life is all gone.

    Your life is too precious to waste it,
    On waded up tobacco sticks.
    Humor me, knowing I Love You,
    And stop smoking those cigarettes.

    Thank you! A lovely thought!

  5. Absolutely loved it and I am so glad that you wrote this and shared it with us!

    Yep, my back could chime in to as well as my very ample hips as to why they hate me as well.

    Exercise? There is something known as exercise out there? What, pray tell, is this strange sounding phenomenon? Obviously something I never do. 🙂

    Yes, I’ve heard of this “exercise” … but it’s a distant, vague memory in the dim and foggy past. 😉

  6. Okay, so on facebook, I posted this video of a dog that thought its own leg was trying to steal its bone. The dog growls at and bites his foot. The foot just wants to scratch his ear. I thought of that when I read this. Hey, dude, Your back? Its part of you.

    Pff. Says you. This thing’s got a mind all it’s own and it’s not afraid to use it. 😉

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