Tom Brady — Excellence. Dedication. Sacrifice. My 82-year old dad? Lazy. Bottom-percentile measurables. Retired since 2007. Tom Brady was only retired for a month, so I think the fifteen years my dad has spent lazing about, watching the hummingbirds and mourning my stepmom or whatever the hell he does all day is long enough.
It’s time my dad got off his ass and started pulling his weight around here, and there’s only one method that can help: TB12. The problem is he lacks Brady’s commitment to excellence. When I caught him eating a piece of toast yesterday, he blubbered, “The acai smoothies hurt my ulcers.”
What part of “you need to reduce your K/NA ratio and raise intracellular magnesium with an alkaline diet” isn’t clear? TB12 isn’t just a training regimen; it’s a holistic lifestyle, and I’m going to put my whole foot up his ass if he doesn’t shut up and eat his dandelion greens.
And his dedication to pliability? Pathetic. It’s the key to Brady’s longevity, but this crybaby keeps complaining about his hip replacement. Brady never needed a hip replacement, and he ate 543 career sacks like it was avocado ice cream.
Am I being hard on my dad? Sure, but no one’s harder than Tom Brady is on himself, and look what he’s accomplished? I just wanna see my dad get to the pinnacle of his field once again: another gold watch from Sears for being “an accountant.”