So today I was talking to my ultra-in-shape friend Stefanie about her plans to take over southern Oklahoma, and the conversation turned to how both of us are, well, old. We're about to hit the big 4-0, me a little sooner than she, and neither of us is happy about it.
I laughed at how her version of exercise is hiking and kayaking and shredding her shins on some strange torturous workout contraption, and mine is whipping my husband's butt in Wii. (By the way, do NOT take me on in boxing. I am a KILLA.) In the exchange, I mistyped (or DID I?) and confused "excuse" with "exercise." What I came up with is brills ... Exercuse. I define it as "the well-rationalized reason one cannot bring herself to become healthy, generally punctuated by a strong desire to watch 'Twilight' for the millionth time and/or to blog about ridiculously mundane topics."
Heck, yeah. I made up a word. Take that, Webster.
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