Easy Breezy

This is one of those things I find hilarious that may put me squarely in a minority of one.

I was at the gym today, which I've been trying to do every day before I start the job next week, in a last-ditch effort to get myself bikini ready, with the hope that if I can eat nothing but rabbit food from here on out I'll be able to maintain it while I'm sitting behind a desk four days out of every week. That, incidentally, is working out about as well as you'd expect.

When I'm at the gym, I get a great deal of enjoyment out of closed captioning, specifically the misspellings. I'd never be able to suffer through the elliptical without it, in fact. Today's program was Merv Griffin's Crosswords. I quickly discovered that playing along without the luxury of audio is basically impossible, so instead I started mentally copyediting the closed captioning. Host Ty Treadway informed us that we'd be right back after the break, and this glorious caption appeared on the screen before me:

[musical notes] ... breezy synthesizer music ...
... breezy synthesizer music ... [musical notes]

I am so sad that I couldn't hear this breezy synthesizer music for myself. What does breezy synthesizer music even sound like? I bet that bums out deaf people.

I laughed out loud each of the three times we cut to commercial with the breezy synthesizer music. Luckily, the gym was mostly empty, and the few people there looked crazier than I was, so no one thought it odd that a little redhead was guffawing at the TV.

On another note, if you mention in a group email that babies taste like bacon when sprinkled with a pinch of smoked paprika and no one responds, does that mean you maybe took the "eating babies" joke too far? I'm thinking it might.