Art Attack has been planking since November, when it wasn't cool and just called "the lying down game." Now all of a sudden it's the new meme rage and we feel like a forgotten punk band from the '70s, all mad we aren't getting credit.
In honor of one of the laziest holidays known to Americans, Memorial Day, we went around Houston to plank at some of the busiest places going this weekend, from Discovery Green, to Minute Maid Park, where there's a surprise waiting for you in the monument park. When your kids ask you what "laid" means on the drive home, don't blame us.
What? It's clean city water, and it's refreshing to boot. Also, the guy next to us didn't seem to mind; he must plank too.
I'm a bit on the bigger side, so I had to call in a substitute to lay across this rickety, rusty, dirty barbecue pit. Someone had been cooking oranges on it.
Those green bars were very hot. It's a good thing we had an ice pack and some road beers in the car to cool us down.
I wanted to steal the golf clubs and pawn them for cash or video games but I was shouted down.
Thanks to the drought, the grass on the golf course wasn't as lush as we imagined. It was like laying down on Jason Statham's head and face. Meow!
I always knew one day I would be onstage at Miller Outdoor Theatre, and what better audience and time than in front of homeless dudes and schoolkids at lunchtime on a Thursday.
The kids in the picture were really jokers and called their teacher and security to have us escorted away from them. Cops don't know or even care what planking is, by the way.
Kids, don't try this at home, unless your parents are mean and won't buy you toys and things you want. But maybe if you spend time on train tracks they may feel bad for being neglectful parents and give you everything you want. You have to try and find out.
I wish I could tell you that those girls didn't abruptly leave when I showed up, but Discovery Green isn't a fairy tale world.
This bench at Minute Maid Park has been messed up for over a week by my own estimate, leading me to only believe that the Astros want you to have sex at their ballpark.
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