Trash Talking Gone Wrong

I really possess a special ability to make a big doofus of myself. Last Tuesday, I was telling my manager about my impending squash game later in the evening. Impressed that I had an ability to play squash (little does he know that I AM a doofus when I play squash), he asks me whether I 'boast' when I play. Not entirely certain what he was trying to get at, I replied with 'yeah sure, when I am playing well I boast a little. I think I am pretty good at trash talking on the court', all the while smiling and grinning away like an idiot. My manager then starts laughing uncontrollably, at which point my face starts turning that horrible crimson colour (truly tomato face with red colour and fat cheeks). So I gather the courage to ask 'errr what are you laughing at?' He then proceeds to tell me that 'boasting' in squash is when you hit the ball at an angle from the side wall to the front wall. Oh horror, horror, horror! *cringe*

Signs of a gut is beginning to emerge around my waist - cool! donut on stomach! Pretty soon I will suffer the same fate as the lady who couldn't cross the street because she was too fat. I felt so sorry for her. There was ample time to cross the street, but her fat relegated her to watching everybody pass her by and having to take triple the amount of time getting to her destination. Fat is cruel and evil all at the same time.

Delivering speech later today. Hopefully there will be no signs of doofus-ness.