Surprises, eh? Lovely stuff. They come in all shapes and sizes from a fist in the mouth to a great big cake shaped like Vince Vaughan. What you do for your surprise is up to you, or not as the case may be. If you want a specific surprise you have to be very direct to the person you want the surprise to be… ach, I’m not making much sense. It’s too early for thinking.
When I returned from work earlier on this week I was greeted with a mysterious parcel through my letterbox. I knew three things:
- The item was thin (the packaging was super floppy)
- The item was from Amazon.
- I hadn’t ordered anything recently from Amazon.
I was completely surprised then to know that I was now in the possession of ‘Bedtime for the Burpee Bears’ by thoroughly nice person but also walking charisma vacuum Joe Wicks. I haven’t had a chance to read it yet but as I am about to go on holiday it would make sense to take it with me as a bit of light reading on the plane or in the hotel room. It’s an epic, 12 or 13 pages long, with additional exercise and recipe ideas which are, “perfect for sharing.” If anybody needs these things you know where to find me.
The mystery therefore stems from the question of whom would send me such a thing, who would be generous enough to send such a beautiful thing, and only two groups of people come to mind: my brother and my mischievous nieces, who are the most likely candidates, and Kevin and wor Ted.
I guess we’ll never know. I’m off to make a sunshine smoothie to wash down the banana pancakes.
Do I do the burpees before or after the food?
Where’s sodding Joe Wicks when you need him?
12 comments on “Book surprise”
This is a terrible surprise. It sounds like a horrendous book and if you were to read it to a child I would fully support the child in setting fire first to the book and then to the building where you tried to read it to them.
You… you do realise I didn’t write this book, right? Your description sounds very similar to how you behave around my award-winning pieces of literature.
I realise that your name isn’t on the book. But that leaves open the possibility that you are a ghost writer, turning out dreadful children’s literature on behalf of Joe Wicks, who is probably too busy doing star jumps to write anything down.
In the back of the “book” (it’s not really a book, it’s a few pages filled with nonsense) there are instructions on how to carry out a burpee which is an exercise thing. You remember those awful things they made you do in PE? Kinda like that. It gave me PTSD so I put the “book” down.
I recommend you put the “book” down into the bin.
Into the bin, not into “the bin”?
Yes. The actual bin. Not a euphemistic, metaphorical bin. A real life waste disposal canister. Where it will eventually get taken away by bin persons and then either buried under several tons of shite or burned.
That’s not the right way, Christopher. I should dispose of this responsibly (by sending it to Kev). Normally I wouldn’t blurt out such shenanigans on here but as we both know that he never comes here it’s as good as secret.
You’re right, your way is better. His shrimp children will love hearing whatever half-baked tripe Joe Wicks filled his book with. He’ll love it.
Those shrumps will be burping (?) like crazy people by the end of the month. It’s so good to help people you know.
Is burping the way that Kev’s children respond to things they like? I’ve never noticed that before.
Nay, that exercise from the bear book. Burping? Burpees? Burmese?
They’ll be Burmese by the end of the month.