The Writer’s Workshop is Back in Session and the 8 Minute Mile Test – Fail

Bolean Nationality Classroom, Cathedral of Yearning, University of Pittsburgh.

Alien Artifacts in the Classroom, Photo Courtesy of mr_t_77

Authentic, Real, Roswellian Alien Artifacts in the Bolean Nationality Classroom — (Photo Courtesy of mr_t_77

The professor paced back and forth, her nose in the air, her tiny, White Anglo Saxon Protestant nose, with her delectable natural blonde hair and pure pale blue Southern eyes.

Cathedral of Yearning

Cathedral of Yearning

“Botendaddy, Botendaddy, Botendaddy . Delicious, beautiful, Botendaddy. Our illustrious New York literary critic here to insult everyone and hurt their precious snowflake fee’fees.”

“Professor! Your are shitlording! That is a hate crime!” I sputtered.

“Shut your shitty mouth-hole Botendaddy! I am going to call roll! So shut the f&ck up!” She screeched.


“Here anime-san super-sparkle professor lady! Botendaddy is huge!”

The professor rolled her eyes and checked off Hiroku.


“Here, mother! Botendaddy is ginormous!” Grumbled Ramon.


“Present! Botendaddy is legendary!” Shouted the librarian rising to attention and saluting. The professor checked her off and shook her head.

“Carribean Queen!”

“Here Missus professor lady! Botendaddy is prodigious!”

Home of the Writer's Workshop

Home of the Writer’s Workshop

“Park Ranger!”

“Hell-o! Botendaddy is hung!” Squished the Park Ranger.

“Voat Fat People Hate Verified Shitlady!”

“BMI ZERO YOU FAT, HAMPLANET, SCOOTY-PUFF, BEETUS EATERS! Botendaddy’s thing is it’s own planet!” Shrieked the VFPHVSL.

“Oh my god.” Muttered the professor to herself.


“Yeah, I’m here, I guess…Botendaddy, is titanic!” trailed off the stalker looking up the wall.

“Weird foreign doctor-girl?”

“I am to have been being here, and am I now to be speaking like stereotypical racist Hollywood depiction of of funny foreigner-person despite coming from a Commonwealth Country and attending British Public school, miss lady-personage. Botendaddy is like mountain K2!”

“Jesus H. Caramba. Idiots…Idiots” Said the professor shaking her head slowly and making another mark in her attendance book.


The Professor's Office

The Professor’s Office

“Here. Botendaddy pays BIG dividends!”

Chief Guyasuta!

“How! Me big chief! Me hawk a loogey! Me Nokka homa! Botendaddy endowed like great white buffalo!”

“Please make it stop.” Said the professor under her breath.

“Swole Bro’!”

“Bitching, bra’! Botendaddy is massive!”

“Rival race team lady!”

“F*ck all of you! Especially that big d&*ked Botendaddy!”

“New character Devon added to create racial balance!”

“Take it back now y’all! I got to see this gigantic thing y’all talking about.”

The Bolean Nationality Classroom

The Bolean Nationality Classroom

The Professor turned to the class.

“Thank god that’s over, now Botendaddy, I heard you went running with our newest student DeVon. He comes to us from a nice wealthy suburb of Ann Arbor. He is pursuing a Master’s in American Literature at Pitt.”

I turned to DeVon. “You told me you were from Detroit City! That you were all hood! You lying suburban sack of sh&t!”

“OK, you got me, so I lied!” DeVon shrugged his shoulders.


“Anyway, people It was a good run for me.” I began.

My fastest first half-mile in 11 years, but still too slow.


I even kept pace as of the ¾ mile mark, but then I faded on the uphill.


The trail for the pace

8:31 by the clock.

What is it going to take?

My two mile was in the 18’s I finished at 30:10.

Conditions were perfect.

Could the years of injuries have taken this much of a toll?

Or was I just afraid of running faster?”

I asked no-one in particular as I sat on the bench at the end of the run.”

Devon sat down next to me.


The big turn

“I think it’s all you, yon Botendaddy.”

DeVon was a new character, from the Writer’s Workshop!

“You think? It’s just willpower?” I asked DeVon.

“I do, jive turkey! Detroit City!”

“I just don’t get why I’m not running faster.”

A jive turkey

A jive turkey

“It’s psychology, BD’! You aren’t used to pushing yourself harder. You are afraid to run faster because you are afraid that you won’t have the juice left. You need to break away from that and start letting it flow. You can do it? 8:31? 8:26? 8:28? You’ve allowed yourself to be repressed by the patriarchy! Run, damn you! Run!”

“Spiced Fall Blend Latte?”

Peace be the Botendaddy


About Botendaddy

Three times voted extreme sexiest man acclamation. I run because I must...I must!
This entry was posted in Critic's Corner, Dining, Exercise, Food, People, Running and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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