Under Doodiehead’s law, section 27A of the Crossfit Act of 1933, as amended, and section 21E of the Exercise Exchange Act of 1934, as amended, this blog must comply to standards of communication that limit risk factors. The Private Useless Blog Reform Act of 1995 provides a “safe harbor” for certain forward-looking statements. This blog must now include a form of a disclaimer that states that any instance of a forward-looking statement found in this material is only true at the time it was written, and further claim that I am under no obligation to update such written statements if conditions change or that unexpected occurrences happen to affect the statement afterwords. Such forward-looking statements, however, must be identifiable by the use of certain prescribed words.

Sentences and phrases are forward-looking statements when they include any tense from present to future or similar inflection. Words, such as “believe,” “estimate,” “anticipate,” “plan,” “predict,” “may,” “hope,” “can,” “will,” “should,” “expect,” “intend,” “is designed to,” “with the intent,” “potential,” “Eggamuffin,” “bacon,” “boobies,” the negative of these words or such other variations thereon or comparable terminology, may indicate forward-looking statements, but their absence does not mean that a statement is not forward looking.

Basically, the Head Honcho told me I scared off some of his customers by pre-annoucing that we were doing the “Fight Gone Bad” workout, something he’s been telling us all week long. I am now prohibited from making such forward-looking statements. From a totally selfish point of view, I think I did myself a service if I did scare some people off. The gym was packed again.

I’m afraid I did a bit poorly tonight and I’m acting to improve my performance by practicing my squats. Really, that’s the only thing that’s going to help. Kneecapping everyone else to make myself look better without improving my own score is out of the question: there are too many others and they’re all younger and quicker than me and there’s no way I’d catch them if I was carrying a tire iron or whatever it is that Tonya Harding’s crew used in her infamous attack on Nancy Kerrigan.

I bet I’d do better if I just got some more sleep, but that isn’t about to happen soon. That would require common sense.