Yet Another Gym Diatribe

I know I'm repeating myself in these posts, but such is life. This whole thing is cyclical and I am a mere pawn in the big scheme of things. That being said, I'm here to spout off about my pet peeves at the local YMCA.

Man, if I see another a) bastard wearing jeans to work out, or b) bastard wearing spandex shorts to work out, I'll flip. Neither of these garments are appropriate gym wear for men, and jeans are inappropriate for either sex. Muthafucka, I do not wanna see the outline of your sweaty nuts. Put some looser shit on. And looking at these stupid hicks wearing jeans to the gym just makes me uncomfortable. It fucks up my workout. That shit can't be comfortable. Buy a $2 pair of sweatpants and keep them shits in your trunk. Damn!

Another thing I hate is these Africans that are in the free weight room every time I go. There are about 5 of them and they lift together. They give the whole place a real prison yard feel. They all huddle over the same bench and shout out encouragement to each other. They are constantly in the way of other people trying to grab weights for their own work outs. Plus, when you have to wait for 5 dudes to each do their reps, then go through their cycle, they have basically monopolized a station. They are the loudest, most obnoxious muthafuckas known to man. The only upside is that they intimidate enough non-black people, that the rest of the room is virtually empty for my work out. I just found out one of the dudes is married to one of my secretaries, the one that looks like Kym Whit.ley. I'm all for cooperation in the spirit of that one funny word they use in Kwanzaa, but break the fuck up into smaller groups and stop looking like rec time at Folsom and shit.

I carry around this book with me at the gym. It's this regimen that I've been using to lose weight. I used to feel funny carrying it around and following the instructions on exercises, because it made me look like a novice, but as the results started showing I stopped giving a fuck. Muthafuckas used to snicker about that book, I've heard 'em. I'm a regular now and I'm at the gym six days a week, but not a day goes by when somebody doesn't ask me about that fucking book. I've watched them stagnate while I'm getting in better shape. So one of the original snickerers asked me about the book. "So is that how you lost so much weight?" I wanna be like

"Naw, muthafucka, I was getting a blow job while driving and hit a gypsy by accident. That's how I lost it."

Go somewhere and keep laughing, asshole.

And what would a gym post be without me talking about the locker room. Bastards better learn to use their peripherals. If your fucking head is turning when a naked man walks by, you need to fucking check yourself or get checked. I don't care what your orientation is, I'm just talking about the rudeness aspect of it. Locker room etiquette is, shall, and will always be do not look at a muthafucka you don't know and never look below that muthafuckas chest, period.

I'm sure I'll have more as this agonizing winter season at the gym marches on.

Be Easy,
KZ