Dear Improperly Lifting Things,
So, I improperly lifted something about a week ago. I have no idea what I lifted, but I am one-hundred percent sure that it was improperly lifted. I am sure, because of the pain. The pain tells me something was improper. And as you know, pain is almost always associated with 'improperness'. Whether mental or physical, something improper caused it.
One day I am a fine, buxom, robust, sturdy, hardy, durable, brawny maiden and the next I am a decrepit, weak, complaining, brittle, hindered hag. I suppose that is how one gets old. Running around one day without a care in the world, and the next hobbled over with a hand on the back. All I know is that my upper-butt/lower back was rife, RIFE, with some kinds of pain. For the most part it has subsided, but I have learned a valuable lesson: improperly lifting things may be easy, fun, and look cool, but it is really not worth it.
Bending the knees so I can back that ass up,