Gluteus Maximus

If you think Dawn and I will ever run out of bad jokes about "going up Butt Street," you are sorely mistaken, my friend! (Pun intended.)

The street name is very apropos. I know it is hard to believe, but I promise you that every street in Wellington is uphill both ways. I have not grown accustomed to this. I am exhausted; the lactic acid is coursing through my muscles. Even the brief "downhill" periods are steep and taxing. You really have to engage the quads so as to avoid tumbling head over heels down the hills. I initially thought this mountain-climbing would make me trim, but I now think it is building up a badonkadonk that doesn't want to fit in my pants. Well, that and all the TimTams I've been eating...

I would hate to turn into a stereotype. Consider this conversation I was peripherally involved in about a co-worker's body (like I said, nothing is off-limits at the office).

Girl: J. is hot.

Boy: She is pretty, but she has such a big ass.

Girl: Yeah, she does have a big American ass.

Boy: I can't believe you said that! Maureen is American!

Girl: You know what I mean... a big black American ass.

Boy: That's not any better! I'm practically black! [He is Indian] And Maureen voted for Obama!

Girl: It's okay. I'm half and half.

Boy: But you're not half black! Or half American!

Today at work, I was asked to sort 6 cases of chocolate bars (don't even ask) and someone commented that the only person who could eat 6 cases of chocolate bars in one sitting would be an American. Cool it, Kiwis! You're gonna give a girl a complex!

The pictures below show a variety of steep staircases and paths that make the buns burn. You'll notice that some resourceful/lazy Wellingtonians have installed cable cars leading from the street to their homes. I'm a little jealous of these cable cars, but a closer look reveals their dangers. There is no mistaking the international symbol for "this thing will crush you."