Ever hear the phrase ‘I can run scared chicken crap faster than you can run trying to catch me’? I did once, and it reminded me of something.
To start, understand this. I know nothing about music. And I mean nothing. Short of how to spell the word ‘music’, I know nothing. Well, not entirely true. I watch American Idol, so I do know what bad music is.
I have a friend, Jeff, who is a guitar player. A bunch of us were hanging out at his bachelor pad one day, just chatting, gaming, and doing your general male bonding hootin-n-hollerin. As with all male get-togethers that involve poker, beer and cigars, this one included various guys who thought they could play the guitar and sing.
To make the night go smoother, Jeff decided to grace us with the sound of his string strumming fingers. After he completed belting out various melodies with a voice that would make a tomcat proud, I noticed something weird on his guitar. Leaning against the wall, I noticed the knobs at the top of the guitar were all crooked. So, I thought I would do him a favor. I lined them all up in a nice straight line. Just for him. Seriously, I had the best intentions at heart here.
You learn something new every day. Jeff saw what I did, and
‘explained’ the knobs are used to tune the guitar.
So what does all of this have to do with hamstrings? Well, after Jeff showed me the errors of my ways, and after everyone in the room stopped laughing, I pulled my hamstring running as fast as I could to get away from his grip.
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