Gym Rat – The New Series That Could Become A Book

It was Good Friday, April 14^th 2006 and I was working the floor at Barlow’s Gym. It was my third week into the foray of the personal training business and I was performing the same mundane tasks that a circus seal could pull off, though the little cocksucker would have many troubles holding a spray bottle. That’s right, I was wiping down the machines after obese, sweating and often angry clientele were done getting their fitness fix. It was degrading but what in life isn’t? I had to pay the bills and this had seemed like as good a prospect as any.

Shoveling away the bullshit

I’m having a hard time right now giving a fuck about this screwed up world. Will I ever get around wanting to do things in the best way possible? Corporate America has screwed us out of money and time and ultimately our lives. For an example of what I am talking about I will cite the fitness industry. I’m going to let you in a little secret. Almost all the abdominal gadgets, butt shapers, muscle magazines, multi-gyms, instructional videos, thigh squeezers, cardio machines etc are sold not to better your health but to make a profit. In fact most of what is sold as the next best exercise gadget or concept is a new and worse version of a lie perpetuated by the fitness industry. You will not lose fat from your midsection by using the newest abdominal stretcher touted by Joe Fitness Weasel. There is no such thing as spot reduction! If you burn more calories than you take in you will lose fat from all areas of your body. Usually the fat loss will be most noticeable in the face and neck but it varies from person to person. This is just one example of a lie that the fitness industry perpetuates so they can sell you another useless gadget. Try a set of leg raises. They’re free and more effective than any piece of shit sold on the fitness market.

There is legitimate information out there on getting into shape but you have to search it out. Don’t expect Corporate America to do anything for you except take your money. They don’t give a fuck whether you’re healthy or not in fact it behooves them to keep you out of shape and buying the next best fitness lie.

Do yourself a favor don’t read muscle magazines or watch infomercials. Search out someone that has been successful in whatever it is you want to change in your life. Use your computer and search out the best information available and use your HEAD and rely on personal experience when deciding what is legitimate and what isn’t. This goes for all areas of life. I for one am tired of being fucked over by Corporate America. They have conned us into believing in numerous untruths so that they can empty our pockets. I want to do things the right way, in the best way possible. If I’m training someone in the gym I don’t want to use some shitty $10,000 machine that isn’t as effective as an old fashioned push-up. If I’m writing a novel I want to make it unique and funny and the best damn story it can be. I don’t want to be like everyone else. I want to be my own person in whatever I do and for me that means shoveling away the bullshit and despite negative repercussions--such as not making as much of a profit—I will continue to push for what works, for what is real, for the truth. So fuck you Corporate America. This is one person that hasn’t bought into your bullshit.

The Weasels are closing in

“Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas ... with the music at top volume and at least a pint of ether.”
-Hunter S. Thompson

This

It’s a goddamn shame that it had to come to this. I know I know you’ll want to know what “this” is but suffice to say that “this” is something very very bad. You see I’ve spent the last three months trying to avoid “this” using every available tactic in my considerable arsenal of charms to steer you away from the great black abyss that is “this”.

Yes, I do take part of the blame but not all of it, not for “this”. You must shoulder some of the blame, if not for that, then for “this”.

When blue bleeds into black

Sometimes it is entirely fucking prudent to hack off the last limb of the filthy cocksuckers that have a hold of your dreams. They are a cowardly bunch--caught up in a twisted maze constructed of battered high school football helmets and the empty beer cans from bonfires of yore. They want nothing more than to pull you back into that tar pit of the past, for your bones to lie like the blocks to a Jenga game on those that did nothing before you. Where their minds make a wrong turn is in believing that they have something you want. Wrong. Though your paths may cross, though you may share interests, what should be remembered is that you two are entirely fucking different, that you are entirely you and your legs are heavy stone pillars. They will never move you. They will never pull you back into the muck…

Pissed Off

So, I was at lunch with people from the office. We were in this pseudo-Irish Pub down the street and were seated in the back at a large round table. Our waitress was very tall with curly redish hair and blue eyes. I guessed her to be in her early twenties.

"What do you want?" she asked.

I order a chicken wrap. I specified that I wanted the side salad with the wrap rather than the French Fries. The waitress quickly wrote my order down and rushed off.

We sat there for fifteen minutes until our food came and I immediately saw by looking at the tray that they had fucked up my order which happened at this place before when I order the same meal. Evidently there is a half wrap with a salad lunch special and when I order the regular Chicken wrap and requested the salad instead of fries our waitress got confused. This was no big deal to me so this is what I said, “Excuse me. I ordered the whole wrap.”

Do you know what this fucking bitch had the nerve to say to me?

She said, “No, you didn’t you ordered the half wrap.”

While she was speaking to me she very hostily got in my face and bugged her eyes out at like a pitbull.

To say I was taken aback would be an understatement. I was fucking pissed. She was acting venomously towards me and she was the one that made the mistake! Hell, I was even being nice about it.

Could I have made a mistake? Was there any way I ordered the half wrap? Fuck no. I’ve never ordered a half anything in my life. I don’t eat HALF wraps or sandwiches or half anything. I eat the whole fucking thing. I burn a lot of calories every damn day.

So, anyway, this waitress brought the other half of the wrap out which was twice as big as the first one she gave me. Go figure. The wrap she first brought out wasn't enough to feed a pigeon. Was she pissed because maybe she was planning on eating it on her break?

“Enjoy,” she said with the most condescending voice I’ve ever heard and tossed the plate onto the table.

I damn near almost got up from the table and tackled her right there. I had done nothing to provoke her and she was acting like a fucking little bitch. I should have gone to the manager but my boss didn’t want me to cause a stink so I left the restaurant.

I understand everyone has bad days but that is one fortunate waitress. She's lucky I was with fellow employees or I would have had her head on a platter. Needless to say I’m not going back to Ceoltas in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. This is not the first time I've experienced bad service there but it will be the last.

Something Still

I’m not getting you. Not that I’m really trying to but your inner self is a broken down Chevy under a canopy of leafy greens and although I’ve weed whacked the shit out of the vacant lot that is your life I STILL can’t find you. So what do you say? Come out come out wherever you are? It’s only a matter of time before you get itchy and come crawling back to the trailer park where I’ll be waiting with a case of Budweiser and a tube of that aloe moisturizer you love so much. I don’t have the energy to look for the real you anymore. Come on, surrender to the lies it’s easier that way. In my heart you’ll always be the person that you pretend to be.

Playboy Bunny

I miss you and I don't even know you...I mean not intimately. Maybe you could come over and I could show you all the Playboy magazines I found when I was ripping out the walls in my sister's building. If that offends you then it's not true but still it might have made me feel like a little kid again and that would be good for my current state of depression. So, if you decide it would be bad for that to be true then I could say I definitely respect you as a woman and that I don't have 65 Playboy magazines sitting on my coffee table. Okay? Are we square? Good. Now, if you could just come over at 7:10 instead of 7:00. I have to uh do some cleaning before we watch the DVD's you rented. And please don't look in my hall closet. Its dirty in there...

Tough guys don't dance. You had better believe it. -- Norman Mailer

Ice caps and capped teeth

The polar caps are melting and soon the planet will be as dry as a lizard’s armpit. The world which I have strangely become attached to, the place where I took my first wobbly step will in all likelihood cease to exist as that way cool place where you can breathe mostly oxygen (if you don’t live in Los Angeles) and swim in water that is mostly free of PCBs. When the cause of the rapidly deteriorating atmosphere is boiled down to its sticky essence it is revealed--swimming like suffocating otters in a giant oil slick—fat CEO cocksuckers (which are revealed by one classic study in the 80’s to be largely sociopaths and psychopaths). Rather than taking in air these types have clenched between their capped teeth a five letter word that will be the destruction of us all: GREED. In their world money trumps all other concerns and as I like to remind George W. Bush, you can’t spend money in an atmosphere that doesn’t exist. Nice going guys I hope you can spend money in Hell because if that place exists you’re going to have a front row seat.

See ya...

I’m going to DC today. Do you want to come along? Phone me. We’ll see if we have room and oh yeah make sure you bring plenty of beer. I don’t like when people drink all my beer. It makes me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry…

The Golden Chicken Leg

I've been largely absent as of late and I mean to make amends. Will you accept this bronzed chicken leg? Yes, the very one Colonel Sanders gave me after he ran over my driver on the fifth hole at Pebble Beach in 1978. You're right I was only nine years old but I knew people. It's always good to know people...

Shhhhh I'm studying...

I have to memorize all this anatomy and exercise stuff. I will still go drink green beer on Friday though...

Believe in the baby pigs

The blind reasons keep coming at me like baby pigs swaddled in cut rate cologne and shot from a giant slingshot. The squealing and odor is unbearable—filth masked with every intention of smelling good but of course overdone. I want to ask you when the last time was you caught one of these baby pigs and took it in as your own? When was the last time anything smelled that good/bad to you? When was the last time you believed in anything?

Luch in Tennessee...

....

SOME COCKSUCKER PLAGIARIZED MY WORK!

Some cocksucker plagiarized my work. His blog has no comments on it so his friends and family won't find him out. I am speaking to Blogger about contacting the little rat. You're in a shitload of trouble fat boy...What he doesn't know is that this piece is copyrighted and what he did is a crime. I am contacting my attorney. I hope he has a good job that pays a lot of money. This is his blog: IDIOT I will hunt you down you huge loser. I strongly suggest you take the work you plagiarized down right now. You really don't want to meet me in person...

Compare the story on Steve Alter's blog to my March 8, 2005 piece...He can't even plagiarize well. Ha ha

Yes, of course I'm in a bad mood. I'm sending query letters to publishers. Duh...now pass me a beer. No, not really but the post that was up got me a long scolding from two friends. They thought I was in a bad mood. I'm not really. Trust me. It's all a game...

Hang Joran Van Der Sloot

I know, I'm sick of hearing about Natalee Holloway's dissapearance but after reading excerpts from Joran Van Der Sloot's interview withPrime Time on what happened the night of her dissapearance I want to strangle the little fucker even more. He claims he was going to take her home to sleep with her and then later that night said good-bye and left her sitting on the beach. Yeah right. It just doesn't add up. He was all hyped up to sleep with her and then just left her sititng on the beach? Give me a fucking break. He makes himself out to be a big ladies man. The dude looks like fucking Herman Munster for God's sake. Nice fucking forehead, I could draw a grid on it and play a nice game of checkers. If there is any justice in this world that fucker will one day be thrown in jail with his two little pussy co-consipirators and put in a cell with six of the biggest bull queer rapists in the world and passed around like the Sports Illustrated Swim Suit edition. All I can say is those filthy little cocksuckers are damn lucky Natalee wasn't my sister...

The Great American Pimp

George W. Bush, pimping America out one port at a time...

Nasty Ice

I just read an article about a kid who did a science project and found that fast food ice is dirtier than toilet water 70% of the time. Evidently the ice machines aren't cleaned and workers don't wash their hands after they use the restroom. If you ask me that's pretty fucking disgusting and I think most people would agree. It doesn't surprise me though because I see guys all the time in public restrooms that don't wash their hands. Hell, racoons wash their fucking hands for God's sake. Why can't grown men take fifteen seconds to wash their hands? If you want to eat your cheeseburger with E. coli bacteria on your hands be my fucking guest but before you scoop out the ice for my Diet Coke please show that we as species have evolved somewhat in the last 100,000 years and WASH YOUR FUCKING HANDS!