Our blast today comes from the West Coast…
James. James, oh, James, oh, James, oh, Jim. Hailing from the Boston tribe, I expect you knew this was coming. Wednesday morning in Alamo, after just barely missing the workout due to tardiness, you dropped a verbal to meet us at Coit Tower for the Friday workout. You even gave Laura a XXXXXXL sweatshirt to tag with the Golden Gate Bridge, which she did in her nasty ass basement on Thanksgiving night just to make sure you would have it the following morning. Do you know how nasty this basement is? It’s where rabid raccoons go to die, James.
Now, we know you think you are a cover modeling, Grammy winning, paparazzi attacking, nose picking celebrity these days after you went all Kim Kardashian on us and stripped down for a topless cover of Runner’s World this month. We get it. You’re famous. You wanted the fame, but not the cover of Newsweek. Oh well, guess beggars can’t be choosey. But you know who is even more famous than you, my friend? Your dog. And I doubt your dog would ever break a verbal on his SF friends. Because she is a loyal mother f*cker.
So your SF tribe will be keeping that sweatshirt hostage until your sister (who we hear is faster than you…) returns for another PR Wednesday and makes up for your west coast blunder. We sure did miss you, James Broad.Share via socials: