I'm still a bit down in the dumps. Of course, the rainy weather and spending a good 5 minutes after a run drying off 5-Pound Phooey doesn't help. Would you believe she really, really gets into having her buttocks rubbed at this time?

It's days like these that I'm glad I have some friends in the gym. Richard, my recently divorced and massive gut of a man, was there to tell me that I still look super sexy even after I told him of the 10 pound weight gain. The comparison of stomachs helps. I don't have one while it's like there is an oversized globe being smuggled underneath Richard's shirt.

At least I made Richard's day brighter. Remember my Grindhouse disc? Gave it to him because there is something about us guys having an enjoyment over a woman losing a leg only to be replaced by a machine gun. Never ask a large fat man to mimic such an event. They fall down on gym equipment.

But Grinhouse? Nice flick. I can see why it didn't do as great in the theaters as hoped. At 3 hours, that is one long ride of zombies and a man that uses his car to kill women. You need to plan your whole day around this movie and 4 fake trailers. They really did pick the wrong Mexican to fuck with.

My favorite was DeathProof, the car flick and that's a surprise even to me. I'm huge on zombies and guns so Planet Terror was what I thought as being the perfect 1 hour and 30 minutes of a settled Hedgie. That fucker used....his....car.....man. Damn, that is some fucked up shit as it's good to see Kurt Russell back.

Now, it's all about the waiting game. Damn, I wanna be working so I can find myself absorbed away from being a boyfriend put on the shelf. Even if one place is known for having snobby rich, I'm more curious about what's in this gym.

I know it sounds crazy but I've been through it before. My old gym had a large clientelle of people that pretty much own this town. You could spot them in their brand new workout wear by the Ralph Lauren Polo insignias or brand new tracksuits. My gym is pretty much a bunch of blue collars with old ratty worn out t-shirts and the smell of farts. We keep it real, yo.

FYI: A woman using the behind the neck press equipment let out a really stinky fart right before I was to use it. Even I was shocked. Beautiful blondes fart, too? I thought it was just brunettes.

Ah, the rich are fun, though. When not getting in a tiff over any lack of attention, it's the wife hoping I'd fuck her while her husband watched. Don't let money fool you. They are just as self-absorbed and lost as their spoiled teenagers. And, no, I never fucked the woman but I did meet Kristan there.

Would be funny and easy for y'all to spot my car in the parking lot. I drive a piece of shit (lower insurance rates rock!) so being next to Porsches and Ferarris is my way of making the property values go down.

There are other positives. I'd love to help anyone that is willing to put themselves through real fitness. Maybe those that I find with great personalities can be my little science experiments. All that fat could melt away as I put them through the motions during various workouts. Of course, I will ignore any little pats on my buttocks. Maybe someone will feel sorry for me and insist on starting a jar in hopes of me having a nicer car.

5-Pound Phooey and I have been taking longer routes as I've added a little. She has a whole new world to sniff which makes things even longer. New dogs and holla'd at us and that means various doggie signs are thrown out. It's poodles versus Yorkies as a lot of 'shut the fuck ups' come from the owners. My dog starts a lot of shit.

Blogs have kept me sane. During all this waiting after filling out applications, I've grown amazed at some that I've found on Blogspot. The creativity is amazing! It's no wonder Diaryland is seen as a disappointment. I'm spoiled by people that really have something to say and even bring out such inner emotions that I feel again. No whining about boyfriends/girlfriends but real life issues.

So, this is a earlier than usual entry because I'm in the middle of a movie, .45 with Mila Jovovich, and just wanted to feel a little rested after 5-Pound Phooey starting shouting matches with various dogs standing in front of glass doors. Poodles have more 4-letter words than I ever thought possible. My Gold Membership is almost up. Do I even care? Happy twats all around.

- - 2009-07-07

Love Facebook - 2009-05-07

Retards Away! - 2009-02-16

Jackasses! I Sees 'Em! - 2008-11-28

My Birthday Happened - 2008-09-07