A Quote by Si Robertson

I was in my tighty-whities and I never woke up, and I ran over a mile. — © Si Robertson
I was in my tighty-whities and I never woke up, and I ran over a mile.

Quote Topics

Boxers, man, except when I have to get dressed up. Then it's boxer-briefs. But never tighty-whities. Never. But dude! If they brought back Underoos? Dude, if they brought back Underoos, I would rock the Underoos. Like He-Man and Transformers and G.I. Joe and even like Dukes of Hazzard.
And while seeing Trent in his tighty-whities would make my decade, I’d found out long ago that I couldn’t stay mad at a man wearing nothing but underwear. They looked so charmingly vulnerable.
The last time I'd seen the Minotaur, he'd been wearing nothing but his tighty whities. I don't know why. Maybe he'd been shaken out of bed to chase me.
I’ll never forget the first time I ran with a group of Kenyan women in 2004... The first mile was way slower than my typical run to the point where I was looking around thinking, “Are they for real? These are the fastest women in the world?” But by mile 5 we were buzzing along, mile six I was hitting the gas, and mile seven I was hanging on for dear life.
What took you so long?” Nash asked, as he slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed. “I stopped to donate all your underwear to the homeless. You’re gonna wanna take care of those tighty whities—they’re all you’ve got left.” He leaned against the door, either too tired or too drunk to sit up. “And to think, most people don’t understand your sense of humor.” “Fools, all of them.
She would try picturing him in his underwear, but that was even more disturbing since all it did was make her hot and even more nervous… He had to be the only man alive who could pull off intimidating in his tighty-whities. God, what if all that massive hotness was commando?
How did I know you ran a 4:30 mile in high school? That's easy. Everyone ran a 4:30 mile in high school.
I ran and ran and ran every day, and I acquired this sense of determination, this sense of spirit that I would never, never give up, no matter what else happened.
If life was a dream, then dying must be the moment when you woke up. It was so simple it must be true. You died, the dream was over, you woke up. That's what people meant when they talked about going to heaven. It was like waking up.
Unfortunately, every time someone said “debriefing,” the entire flock had one image: someone’s tighty-whities disappearing in a flash. We were smothering our giggles, but it was getting harder. Coupled with the whole “naval this, and naval that,” with its undeniable belly-button connotations, we were essentially turning into a sugar-jacked, sleep-deprived flock of incoherent, silly, recombinant-DNA goofballs. This was not going to end well.
I remember this one time I had a dream about me writing a screenplay, and when I woke up, you know those dreams that feel so real, but I woke up and I was like, 'Oh my god I have this amazing screenplay I need to write down as soon as I wake up' and then I woke up and I was like what the heck was I dreaming of?
My fastest time in high school was a 4:29 mile. I think cross-country has something to do with my longevity in my business. When you're in an eight-mile race, you never give up.
To say I've never seen 'The Jeremy Kyle Show' would be a lie. I once woke up too early in a hotel and put the telly on low to help me drift back off to sleep. Then woke up to such loud shouting that I thought the place was on fire.
In high school, my two older brothers ran track. They'd come home sweaty and mud-covered, and I could tell they enjoyed it. So I started running - I ran a mile down the road and back again - and I haven't stopped since.
When I was 15 and playing in Kalamazoo, I ran into a light pole on the side of the court and was knocked out for a little while - when I woke up, I was seeing stars!
When he held her that way, she felt so happy that it disturbed her. After he left, it would take her hours to fall asleep, and then when she woke up she would feel another onrush of agitated happiness, which was a lot like panic. She wished she could grab the happiness and mash it into a ball and hoard it and gloat over it, but she couldn't. It just ran around all over the place, disrupting everything.
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