Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Confessions of a Gym Rat

I started to chat with a guy at the gym. We’ve worked out at the same time everyday for about a year now, yet we’ve never exchanged more than an “are you on this bench?”

We quickly realized that we both belonged to the Fudge Packers Union, and then he stated that I didn’t figure I was a Mo. My first thought was, huh…four days a week I walk into the locker room with a cartoon graphic T-shirt, Lucky jeans, flip-flops, and an Atlantis gym bag thrown over my shoulder clicking away on my iPhone. I really couldn’t be more stereotypical. But okay. He on the other hand drives an Audi TT, no heterosexual is really aloud to finance that car, so that should have been my first clue.

Maybe I need to start carrying a scepter on the treadmill as holler out loud “I wanta take a ride on your disco stick..”


A big shout out to my muscled up home Fuzz...
Three years of trying to figure out "where the hell we're going for dinner tonight."


Gooster said...

Why hollar? You could just wear shorts like these when you use the treadmill:

Or these!

The Mutant said...

He drives an Audi TT and you never picked him? If it was TTRS coupe I could understand, but a regular TT, that's as stereotypical as a Jeep Wrangler.

Congrats on three years of domesticity too BTW!

Freddyeyes said...

haha as a jeep wrangler! haha! Happy three years!

Oh and

Let's have some fun this beat is sick! I wanna take a ride on your disco stick!

You're so GAGA Stevie B! You just are!