Bradley Cooper Archives – Lisa Scottoline

By Lisa Scottoline

If you read me, you know that I get jazzed about certain products.

And then I spread the word, herein.

I’d like to do that right now, with a short preface before I get to the point.

This, instead of my usual endless preface before I get to the point.

Getting to the point isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

So here we go.

First, my favorite product in the world is my books. If you enjoy these Sunday stories, they’re all collected in books I write with Daughter Francesca, and you should buy some and read them right away.

What you waiting for? You know you already like me, and the books are cheap.

And thank you for your support.

Second, any one of my books would go very nicely with the product I am about to recommend, but this is where we come to another preface. The following is for mature audiences only.

Also my readers.

If you like what I write about, and the way I write about it, you should feel free to keep reading. I say this with confidence because if you meet all of the above criteria, then you have endured stories about bunions, gray chin hairs, and adult diaper rash. And through my misadventures, I’ve recommended products I love, like Boudreaux’s Butt Paste, ThermaCare, and Bradley Cooper.

In other words, you know way too much about me and you don’t mind. Maybe you can relate.

Or you have a strong stomach.

And a great sense of humor.

Even if your breasts sag.

So what?

Unsaggy breasts aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, either.

I mean, we get it, girls.

Soon you’ll be us.

Anyway, to inch closer to my point, there’s an ick factor to the discussion of my second-favorite product, so if I haven’t cured you of your prissiness so far, check out now.

Because we’re entering the throne room with my favorite new throne.

The Squatty Potty.

I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, but it’s my new love.

I heard about the Squatty Potty on the radio, and I thought it sounded like an interesting idea. Bottom line, and no pun, it’s basically a stool that fits around the base of your toilet, and so when you sit on the toilet, it raises your legs into a squatting position.

Still with me?

Good. Either way. You can’t please everybody, and the people who continue to read will have their life changed.

Or at least their colon.

By the way, I have no problem in the bathroom.

Only in the bedroom.

In that I sleep with five dogs and a remote control.

Plus I’m no doctor, but I believe the Squatty Potty website, which says that squatting relaxes the puborectalis muscle, or basically, a kink in your colon. When you use your Squatty Potty, your colon gets unkinked.

Again, not a medical term.

I have a J.D., not an M.D.

But I like the idea that a squatting position is more natural for your anatomy. It may be a sign of the times that I’ve fallen in love with a toilet, but I don’t view it as being about elimination. I view it as being about my health, and by my health I mean me living as long as humanly possible and then some.

I want you to live as long that long, too, especially if you’re buying my books.

I always used to think about death, but after I turned sixty, it became more than academic. I truly wonder what will kill me, but unfortunately as soon as I find out, I’ll be dead.

Everything has a catch.

But I do find myself being more conscientious about eating healthy foods and exercising even when I don’t want to.

Let’s pretend golf is exercise.

Everybody else does.

But my favorite exercise of all is sitting down, and now I can sit down and know that I’m getting healthier, every time I’m in the throne room.

Look at it this way.

If you don’t want to do squats, you can just, well, squat.

Lisa’s new novel THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING will be out on July 14, 2026.

Francesca’s novel FULL BLOOM will be available in paperback on July 21, 2026.

By Lisa Scottoline

Well, it happened.

I joined a gym.

It was a New Year’s resolution and it’s almost April.

I finally got started because I was on a plane and I couldn’t lift my bag into the overhead.

I tried to, but it fell back down.

Then another woman tried to help, and neither of us could get it up there.

I was doing yoga at the time, via zoom, and I loved it, but my cardiologist told me that I needed to do weight-bearing exercises.

Agree, because I can’t bear my own weight.

My other impetus was Daughter Francesca, who joined a gym in New York City and goes three days a week. She’s gotten superfit, and she’s lifting all sorts of weights, plus doing squat thrusts and Bulgarian whatevers.

And she told me, “Mom, you can do it, too!”

Please tell me I’m not the only mother trying to impress her daughter.

Who raised this kid?

In any event, to return to point, I just got back from meeting my trainer.

He’s 28 and he looks 14.

He’s handsome, but that doesn’t matter to me anymore because I didn’t even wash my hair.

I hope he doesn’t read this.

First, we met in his office at the gym, and he asked me what my goals were.

I did not say, to meet and marry Bradley Cooper.

I was trying to be professional.

So I get said to get stronger and that I would love to use those weight machines like Nautilus, back in the old days.

And he said, “Well, those machines isolate only one muscle group.”

And I said, “I know, I would like to isolate as few muscle groups as possible.”

Actually I used to love those Nautilus machines because you did the exercises sitting down.

I’m great with exercises you do sitting down.

I’m even better with exercises you do eating popcorn.

Not to brag, but I’m great at multitasking.

Sitting and eating is my superpower.

I can also walk and eat.

In fact, I have a treadmill desk and I used to eat popcorn on it while I worked. The dogs learned to sit at the end of the treadmill and get the popcorn I dropped delivered to their mouth like a conveyor belt.

Good times.

But that was then and this is now.

So my trainer devised a series of exercises for me, and I did them so he could watch me and see how bad things were.

The answer is real bad.

I don’t know what any of the exercises are called, but I did one exercise which was lunging on one side of my body, with my knee touching the floor.

But I had a hard time getting up again.

In front of everybody else at the gym.

At least I was wearing a bra.

I put it on special for the occasion.

I almost took it off in the car.

But I waited until I got home.

The other exercise was squatting, so I suppose it was called a squat.

Impressed?

Anyway I squatted the way he told me to, sticking my butt out and stretching my arms forward, but I couldn’t get up and down without grunting very loudly.

People looked over.

And then I had to do something called Farmer’s Carry, which was taking weights in each hand and walking around, like you live on a farm.

Okay, you think this sounds easy?

It’s not.

My hat is off to farmers everywhere.

I did it, but by the end I was huffing and puffing.

What’s funny is, I actually do live on a farm.

So the way I look at it, anything I carry is a Farmer’s Carry.

Even a Snickers bar.

Classic Column: Game of Thrones

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