With all the baffoons roaming the Serengeti of a gym, I’m surprised I’m still grazing there at all…
In my time on this blog I’ve had moments of ranting about naked guys and nipple showings. It wouldn’t surprise me if some of the wonderful readers of this blog are starting to think that I’m training at some R-rated fitness facility, as some of the instructors also shadow as ladies of the night… Continue reading
Like trying to lift the bar after having a failed attempt at bench press without a spotter. Just because you’ve added a tad too much weight as a result of feeling much younger than the middle-age you are, only to realise that feeling younger doesn’t necessarily constitutes being younger. Not like that’s ever happened to me. I’m just saying one might be pressurised to stretch yourself when all the people around you are so fittin’ buff.
There is this gym I go to. A lovely airconditioned venue with a pool and machines and everything. A wonderful place where crazy people like me, choose to put their bodies through all types of torture. We even pay a monthly membership to be able to do so. It’s like that place Tom Cruise stumbled upon in “Eyes wide shut” but without the masks. And the sex. And the hot woman. It’s basically not like that place at all, if only for the excess bodily fluid. Continue reading