In case you were wondering, I've just returned from the gym, where I had what some might call a seriously killer workout. I started off by going into the men's locker room for a little stare down contest with a few guys who had just come out of the showers. This is my way of saying to them something along the lines of "F*ck you, dudes. You think you just had a killer workout? Well, suck it. I am about to go out there and f*ck this place up big time in my pursuit of physical fitness. Now put some goddamn clothes on before I come over there and kick you right in the nuts." Then I walked out of the locker room and stepped onto one of those elliptical machines, the kind Hollywood's Jennifer Aniston reportedly uses. I tore up that f*cking thing for like five minutes at least until the screeching sound of the elliptical machine some young lady next to me was using started driving me nuts and I decided to hop off and hit the treadmill.
I was on the treadmill for a good five minutes, sweating and everything, before I figured it was time to hit some of the Nautilus-type machines. I find walking around the Nautilus machines and gazing around the room with a look of severity on your face is every bit as important as actually using the Nautilus machines when trying to get into shape, so I totally did that for a couple minutes at least. After that had pretty much run its course, I decided to hop on the machine that whips your abs into shape and totally use it for a few minutes. Then I got off that thing and hopped on some other machine that supposedly works like every upper body muscle imaginable and probably some that we don't even know about yet on top of all that. Man, was I feeling the burn. It was just around this time that I realized I was having a seriously killer workout. Dude, it was not even f*cking funny how killer my workout was shaping up to be. Lats, abs, everything- my sh*t was on fire and I was loving it.
After pretty much ruling the Nautilus machines, I figured it was time for some free weight action, so I grabbed two little barbell things that weighed exactly fifteen pounds each and I totally lifted them up and down like 50 times. I was worried a crowd was going to form around me if I kept this up for too long, so I stopped. After that I just drank some water from the water fountain next to the women's locker room and decided to leave this b*tch (when I say b*tch, I am referring to the gym in general. I just want to be clear on this.). Mission accomplished.
On the way home from my killer workout, I decided to stop into the grocery store and buy some groceries since I had totally laid to waste like 300 calories or something during my killer workout. Time to rebuild. Since I was in health mode, I bought some carrots and some celery (the full versions. I don't mess with that pre-sliced, pre-washed bullsh*t. I'm like a caveman or something. I just eat it pretty much the way it comes out of the ground. I rinse it off, but that's about it. Deal with it.). I also bought some chips and salsa, both of which turned out to be pretty much bullsh*t. The salsa was made by Mrs. Renfro's (not her real name, I am guessing. Again, bullsh*t.). No offense to her, but her salsa blows. She's gotta get some quality control going up in this b*tch (when I say b*tch, I am referring to the salsa market in general. I just want to be clear on this.). I decided to buy some bargain tortilla chips too and they had some weird aftertaste like they had been sprayed with some sort of preservative crap or something that justifies them being only 99 cents a bag. Dave says, "No, thanks!" Anyway, I guess I will have to sweat all that crap out when I hit the gym again in a couple months. As always, I will keep you posted. Until then, please do your best to live by my f*cking awesome example.
In closing, I would like to point out that if the Bush administration went about their business with even half the commitment to excellence and overall general goodness with which I tear it up pretty much every single time I go to the gym, we- and I'm talking about all of us- would totally not be in this mess at all.
There. Guess who f*cking nailed it. Me- that's who.