Woa Doggy!

My bestys need to breath. I wasn't writing about anyone. I'm not mad at anyone. There's no problem. There's no issue (and I certainly don't need to relax...) I'm workin' on it. I'm gearing down. I was just venting 'bout nothing in particular. "Mindless ramblings," as they were. I do that occasionally. Probs you need a glass of chocolate milk or something. Come over to my house... I'll make you some.

So to satisfy your funny bone, I'm bringing back what (I think) I do best:

When I'm at the gym I spend the majority of my time on the treadmill, as Poomobile can attest to. The gym is set up so that the treaders face the rest of the building, including the weights and the walkway you use to get to the change rooms. Needless to say, this lends itself awkwardly to lurkers ogling your wobbly bits while you're hoofin it. Ladies, this is where the supportive bra becomes an essential.

But, I digress... I'd like to comment on the 5:00-6:00pm gym crowd.

First, There's triangle man. He's built like a brick shit house. And he looks like this:


Note: this is not an accurate representation of Triangle Man. This is something I did really quickly using paintshop. But you can imagine.

Then there's thong girl. You know her. She's the one that wants everyone to know she's wearing a t-back, so she yanks it so far out of her pantaloons it's uncomfortable. Or at least, it's uncomfortable for me just looking at it, let alone being the one with my underwears wedged up my butters.

There's "The winker". He's cute.

And Mighty Mouse. She's about 4'10, seventy pounds dripping wet. But she wears about 300 pounds in weights strapped to her wrists and ankles and spends about 45 minutes going full force on the elliptical. She frightens me a bit. Kinda edgy like... I know she could totally take me. And for sures she's on that elliptical thinking about all the people on her list...

We can't forget the guy who wears women's t-shirts. He's pretty fit, actually. Kind of a Baldwin, to quote "Clueless". But he wears shirts that come to just above his navel. Not so Baldwin. And he spends quit a bit of time looking down at his own chest. Again... Not so Baldwin.

The children. Those are the boys and girls who come to the gym and hang around the machines, usually in matching clothes (some form of Lululemon and/or sideways hats). They never really do much. But they do a good job of pretending. I'm convinced *rolls eyes*.

And last but not least, there's creepy gym guy. He actually works at the club. I made the mistake of telling him during my initial physical assessment that I thought all public libraries should carry 'Playboy'. Now, whenever he sees me, he says "Librarian" and gives me the once over. Ew. Gross. Quit it. Blech. Blech x10.

And to quote Hurrah, that's it. And now I'm going to watch the Avril video again...