If I were to ever let this blog digress into a whiny, moany whinge-fest – it’d be no different from 99.9% of the rest of them. Most blogs are fucking horrible. And it’s no accident that most blogs also involve a droll sadsack with the personality of a meadow cricket sharing their long laundry list of why they rule and the rest of humanity ‘just doesn’t get it’. Chirp, chirp, chirp.
Rhetorical questions (“Why does my boss always ask me to do something right as I’m about to leave work?!”) always seem to punctuate the mess at every given turn. And as much as I yearn to reply “because they want to wrong-hole you in the copier room after everyone else leaves”, I refrain – as that would denote interest and truthfully I wouldn’t piss on them were they on fire. So I try to keep the uninteresting, psuedo-intellectual rambling to a minimum. Better allowing me to make fun of those that do not. I then, in the process, become guilty of it myself. But I add lots of pretty pictures and people keep reading me anyway.
But someone left a band-aid in the shower at my gym today, and my aforementioned attempt at whinge-restraint has just come to a shrieking halt. You filthy bastard. You uncouth heathen fucktard. Here’s the worst part: It wasn’t swirling around in the drain as you’d expect. No – it had been placed neatly in a groove at my eye level where the tile ends and the normal wall begins. And as I stood there shaking my head in disbelief, the “guy-who-never-actually-uses-the-gym-but-works-on-the-same-floor-and-just-comes-in-to-take-craps” arrived. Usually leisurely, my remaining time toweling off and getting dressed then became about as enjoyable as shovelling out a month old, newly discovered bathtub crime scene in July.
Where am I going with this? Quite crazy.
good work Dave… stick with the workouts and at the pace with which you frequent the gym your body should catch up with your head by 2020. You trying to tell me that crapper guy didn’t cross your mind once when you were rubbin’ one out later that night?
You should see some of the shit I’ve seen in the women’s showers. Repeat after me, ladies: “A shower is not a sanitary item disposal unit.”
That’s fuckin’ gross… Jenny come visit the 240 hairsuit sitting on the toilet in the guys change room… I’m not sure what his ethnic back ground is but the entire 3000 sq ft change room reeks of ethnicity when he’s through.
JV – While you were once indeed the portrait of fitness, times have changed a little, no? You know that saying about throwing stones inside of glass houses…?
Key-rist. Pardon me if I skip that one, JV. As much fun as it sounds.