I love my gym. Love, love, love my gym. It's a five minute drive from my joint, it's got a clean, fancy ladies locker room, an indoor lap pool, and this fantastic room called the "cardio theater". The cardio theater is such a flippin' good idea; I wish I had come up with it. It's about a quarter the size of a regular movie theater, and it has about 8 million treadmills, ellipticals, gazelle thingies, bikes, recumbent bikes, and one big-ass movie screen. It's dark, so no one talks, and they play a movie over and over again, all day long. So far, I've seen bits of Blades of Glory, Transformers, Lord of the Rings, and, sighs with disappointment, Fantastic 4 (God that movie was a stinker). Not great cinema, by any means, by Lordy, is it a great way to pass the time. Usually, I’m too distracted by my cardio machine, the other gym users and their antics, and by my brain nagging me with a constant "are we done yet? are we done yet? are we done yet?” Stupid brain, trying to puss-out on me. So, this cardio theater is the mutt's nuts, I love it. There are only 3 noticeable flaws to this gym that I have found so far: 1.) the shower curtains are about 6 inches shy of being wide enough to cover the shower stall's width (so everyone get's the $5 show for free), 2.) there is no steam room (Mama loves her steam rooms) and 3.) there are a few bitches who need to back the shit off. This week alone, I have had 2 bitches give me the super-sized stink eye. WTF? I'm friendly; I always give a head nod or a "good morning" to all my fellow gym goers. Hey man, we're all in this together, there's no need for petty stink eyein'. I can’t help it if I'm prettier and younger than you dried-up old skanks. You might as well be mad at the sky for being blue, so knock it off...or else I'll pull a razor outta my titties and cut you.
P.S. Thanks to this post, my spellcheck now has the words "skanks" and "eyein'"
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