Friday, July 10, 2009

5 Badass Animals (Who Lead Miserable Lives)

By Russ Whiting

Following in the precedence of that zany Henry David Thoreau, who among us hasn’t wanted to shed the cumbersome weight of today’s sprawling megalopolitan trappings and embark upon a voyage of spiritual discovery? Returning to our roots in nature as it were? Well, you just might want to rethink that instinctual adventure you silly little bastard; if you think crying into your pillow at night about working eight hours behind a desk all day means God hates you, try taking a look at the lives of these presumably awesome animal creatures:

5) Praying Mantis
That’s right, the Praying Mantis; among the most lethal, hard-assed insects to have ever been formed by God’s repudiating hand. These wondrous insectile butchers are sleek, elegant, purdy and presumably pious religious folk (They pray a lot, LOL). Don’t let their appearance and churchly demeanor fool you however; they’re the type of predators that would slash and grab you with strong, spiked forelegs if you ever got too close – committing unseen horrors to your body and any of their other mortified prey. (Which consist of other insects, frogs, lizards, snakes, rodents, homeless people). Any insect that feasts on the sundered flesh of the living instead of nibbling upon dirt and poo pretty much becomes an undisputed legend in my eyes.

Where Things Go Horribly Wrong:
Alright, praying mantises are bad-asses. I’ll even go so far as to say that they could be considered the epitome of macho, butchering animals twice their size – all the while resembling alien rape machines with their bulbous, remorseless eyes. Oh, they’re macho, alright. That is, if they didn’t have the ironic misfortune of actually being born male.

Why Their Lives Suck Even More Than Yours:
Our protagonist mantis finally gets laid after prevailing over a cock blocking process of epic proportions. This includes him pouncing upon and essentially raping the female while she’s busy preening or eating (eerily similar to my own tactics, try it some time!) After all this, you’d think she might light up a cigarette and maybe give him a pat on the thorax for a job well done, right? Wrong! After getting hers, the female brute will violently turn on the male. (The nerve of that asshole, trying to further propagate the species) For you, this would involve your wife, significant other, or female escort brushing you away, saying that she has a headache. Or for the very unlucky, uproarious laughter at the futility of your dick.

For the male mantis this means having his goddamn head chomped clean off his shoulders! As a morose consolation prize for living the life of the ultimate masochist, a reflex mechanism in the mantis’ body ensures he’ll keep on pumping away, necroboning the lucky gal while his severed head becomes a delectable little treat! (Men, always thinking with their other head, amirite ladies?) Hopefully the femme fatale has the common courtesy to chew in a way that allows him to watch his dying thrusts with voyeuristic bliss! Grant that horny mantis male his final wish, won’t you snookums?

“Oh real nice, Bill! You went and died again! For once, I just wish you’d want to cuddle after sex.”

4) Anglerfish
The image I’m pasting onto the ceiling above my first born baby’s crib

Picture this: You’re an abhorrent, appallingly grotesque sea creature that looks like the remains of John Travolta from Hairspray and a used condom from Clay Aiken. Alright, that’s terrible even by my standards. Let me start over.

Picture this: You’re just a vicious, loveable, though ugly male anglerfish with a heart of gold; traversing the deep, abounding sea with Sebastian the crab, Nemo, and the rest of your fishy friends! Nestled like a jocund, deformed fellow in those fathomless depths, your gaze soon fixes upon a sight that sends a tremor of longing and anticipation up your incurved spine; one that tickles from your fishy fins up to the base of your throbbing gills:

What’s that you spy? A cavernous mouth; spiny, razor sharp teeth; nubile, iridescent dorsal fins framing a plump, J-Lo ass; and even one of those cool organic “fishing rods” protruding from her sloping forehead! (One that can glow in the dark, and lure smaller fish into her close proximity.) Could it be? Why, it’s a sexy female Anglerfish and you’d simply love to get yourself a piece of that sweet, fishy smelling (good in this instance) poontang!

Where Things Go Horribly Wrong:
Here’s the deal. Anglerfish are rare. So rare that it could conceivably take years for two anglerfish of the opposite sex swimming along to have the fortuitous luxury to just bump into each other and proceed to get freak nasty. So nature, being the detestable whore that she is, decided to play a “harmless” little prank on the male anglerfish when it comes to getting laid.

Why Their Life Sucks More Than Yours:
Of course, by harmless I meant – they become the living, breathing embodiment of a “pussy whipped” joke. These guys make Doug Christie, a guy who flashes his wife “I heart yous,” erratic winks, and blown kisses on live national television in NBA basketball games look like the father of sixteen kids in Harlem. So what could possibly be so terrible, you ask? Recall an instance when your wife, gal pal, or any woman in general called you a dick. (For me, this happens every time I open my mouth). Do you have it firmly etched into your mind? Good. Now imagine that her words took on a literal meaning of the most degrading, humiliating degree. That’s right kids, you are doomed to live the rest of your life as an actual cock(and balls)!

Just take a gander at this excerpt from the Wikipedia article on Anglerfish:

“When he finds a female, he bites into her skin, and releases an enzyme that digests the skin of his mouth and her body, fusing the pair down to the blood-vessel level. The male then atrophies into nothing more than a pair of gonads, which releases sperm in response to hormones in the female's bloodstream indicating egg release. This extreme sexual dimorphism ensures that, when the female is ready to spawn, she has a mate immediately available.”

So to recap, the male bites into the female, and they fuse together; he gets all his essential vitamins and minerals, as well as a shared oxygen supply. This means he doesn’t need to do anything in life except become like a patient little caterpillar; except instead of emerging from the cocoon as a magnificent butterfly – he emerges from his hypothetical cocoon as a magnificent schlong. (Yes, I really just used those two words in the same sentence.) This turns the female into what is essentially a sultry hermaphrodite, since she can reproduce at any time with the former fish turned empty shell of a dick perpetually dangling from her underbelly. C’est la vie!

“I sold my soul to the devil to be reincarnated as Megan Fox’s vibrator. This… isn’t what I asked for, is it?”

3) Asian Giant Hornet (Getting its comeuppance)
“Nature, she is a dirty whore, non?”

Are you all ready to hear a tale of unspeakable slaughter and butchery far worse than any war in human history? Such is the life of the Japanese Giant Hornet; pitiless, winged automatons of death. Numbered in 30, these sons of bitches can horribly maim and kill a nest full of 30,000 European honey bees in less than 3 hours! (A single hornet able to kill 40 bees per minute) Not content with eradicating every last one of the hardest working foragers of nature’s gold, the wasps then proceed to steal the helpless bee babies from the ravaged hive; presumably suffocating them, punching them in the face while they’re in their strollers, and slipping them down garbage chutes before finally eating them. Check out this video:


Where Things Go Horribly Wrong:
Yes, such tragedy saddens my heart as well. As if bees don’t have it difficult enough! But fear not honey sucklers, and deviants who had a crush on the cherubic “little” girl in the Blind Melon video; in nature – justice is its own ripe reward! You see, the aforementioned description of what happened to the poor bees was an example of when honey bees from Europe were introduced to the Japanese environment. This was all in some horrible mad scientist-esque experiment to increase honey production by our overseas friends. (Or maybe it was for a Japanese game show) Not accustomed to Hentai, Hello Kitty, or battling Mothra, these bees that were suddenly thrust into the cusp of an alien locale were predictably massacred, offering little resistance.
The native Japanese honeybees, however, are a different matter altogether! Come, learn with me, won’t you?

Why Their Lives Suck Worse Than Yours:
The native Asian bees, invigorated by a bee-like Genghis Kahn (or Shigeru Miyamoto) have devised a unique strategy in dealing with their godless foes:

As the hornet enters the nest, a large mob of about five hundred honey bees surrounds it, completely covering it and preventing it from moving, and begin quickly vibrating their flight muscles. This has the effect of raising the temperature of the honey bee mass to 47 °C (117 °F). The honey bees can barely tolerate this temperature, but the hornet cannot survive more than 46 °C (115 °F), so it dies.

Wow. Well, that’s certainly a horrible, agonizing death isn’t it? Being smothered in a writhing mass of bodies and then immolated from the inside out by the “vibration of flight muscles” (AKA, gang raped until you catch on fire) is something that even Stanley Kubrick would have shied away from tackling on the big screen.

I think I’d rather see someone killed by Carrot Top. Yes, that’s right. I’d rather see someone jimmy the door to his house (rundown apartment most likely) to gain access, where Carrot Top and a nest of Carrot Top clones are waiting; bonking themselves and then the intruder on the head with their hilarious mallet props. The would be assailant is then bound, gagged, and smothered by a mass of Carrot Top and clones’ nude, tremulous bodies – fiery red afros nuzzling and fondling him into a combustible grave. Oh yeah, and then he’s thrown into a scorching oven along with a kitten.

Or simply forced to watch Chairman of the Board. Either way, nature is hardcore.

“Fred, our balls are touching. And why do you keep looking up at me with hundreds of doe-like eyes? …Fuck, I don’t want to do this anymore.”

2) Fig Wasp
Fig wasps are born and raised inside a fruit that grows upon the fig trees of their namesake. Their life is closely related to this tree; they pollinate it, decorate the interior, and complete the “circle of life” so to speak. All is well in the gay, merry world that is nature.

Where Things Go Horribly Wrong:
Yes, there is a common theme prevalent in this article. It is the adversity that is faced by the brave males in this broad scope of animal species; our kindred brothers that share our very masculine quintessence. (Sorry ladies, you already have all the power in society as it is!) These male fig wasps need our support, for they live vacant lives destitute of any real meaning. Read on!

Why Their Lives Suck Worse Than Yours:
You know how some people don’t tend to enjoy being fucked like two dollar hookers and then never get spoken to or called again? Crybabies, right? Alright, how about being told that they have a vacuous personality and are essentially only good for getting laid from and that they should never ever open their mouths unless it’s to exhale during sex? How do I put this nicely? Male fig wasps are like the two former scenarios combined, except instead of being told they have no personality, they are kicked out of the bed the second they are done screwing and die in a horrible car fire on the taxi ride home. (Which they paid for!) So much for baby daddies in Fig Waspville, huh? Bitches get played and used for real, son! Just take a look:

As the fig develops, the wasp eggs hatch and develop into larvae. After going through the pupal stage, the mature male’s first act is to mate with a female. The males of many species lack wings and are unable to survive outside the fig for a sustained period of time. After mating, a male wasp begins to dig out of the fig, creating a tunnel for the females to escape through.

Okay, so let’s recap. Upon reaching maturity, the first thing that the fig wasp has to do is put his newly developed fig meat to the test – by getting it on with a female fig wasp; an insatiable female fig wasp cougar, out to prove that she’s still got it; and can still get some of those nubile young figgy loins!

This is essentially the equivalent of a budding, coming of age teenager who masturbates furiously in his bathroom to Sear’s Catalogues; hoping one day to whet his proverbial whistle. The second he is able to sustain a “woody,” as the kids call it, a mature, horny female perches upon his rod like a howler monkey and goes to town. Thirty seconds later, the boy chews a hole through his bathroom door for the lady to escape through later, and dies of exhaustion, or maybe even cholera, like a kid from Oregon Trail. Curtains.

Simply horrible, isn’t it folks? Absolutely deplorable that one’s life could consist only of having sex the absolute instant they’re able to, and then crumpling into a ball and dying. If you’re a female, please skip down to the next section of this article, entitled “Gorilla.” If you are a fellow man such as myself (though definitely not as virile) I think we can all agree on one thing: we all know what critter we want to be reincarnated as, don’t we boys? Awwww yeahh. Gettin’ some of that sweet tang the second we can get it up – till the day you die, baby! (Literally the very same day. Goddamit).

“Love at first . . . hard on?”

1) Gorilla
To put it in simple terms, gorillas are the paragon of the words tough, brutal, and pants shittingly scary. And the best part is, you know this already! These guys shower in vodka, can bench press cars, have thighs like anvils, and could breast feed Fifty Cent. Remember that scene in Jason Takes Manhattan where Jason actually punches a guy’s head off? Gorillas could do that to you, only they’d peel the flesh off your face afterwards and eat your severed pate like a banana.

Where Things Go Wrong:
When gorillas mate, they have absolutely no competition. That’s right – no one’s going to cuckold this snarling, simian giant! Gorilla females are the exact antithesis of Paris Hilton: they are faithful, non-promiscuous, affectionate mates. (I think we can also all agree they would do more than just lay there and stare vacantly at the camera during a sex tape – I mean . . . You’re thinking about fucking a female gorilla! What in God’s name is wrong with you?) I know what you’re saying right now: “Damn Russ, this all sounds so amazing. Those gorillas sure have it made, don’t they?” Sorry folks, this means nature has developed one small side effect in accordance for the gorilla’s life of sexual harmony; like some Gorilla-Faustian satanic pact gone horribly awry:

Why Their Lives Suck Worse Than Yours:
The gorilla penis is a staggering 2 inches. Erect. I bet about 85% of you reading this right now are standing up from your computer chair with your hands on your hips, thinking to yourself "Oh yeah, I’m more hung than a gorilla baby!" If you did that, I want you to know that even a gorilla would get more human pussy than you.

“Hey, come look at this snot I picked zoo keeper! It looks like a dick! HAHAHA! Yes… it is in fact bigger than my actual penis. Why do you ask?”

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

4 Wrestlers Who Would Be Serving Life Sentences if Wrestling Was Real

By Patrick Ross

Most people know professional wrestling is largely staged, even some of its biggest fans. Wrestling fans get caught up in the whimsical stories the wrestlers act out on the world's stage, and suspend belief for two hours every Monday night while the slightly less brain damaged are watching football. But sometimes, the creative team at the WWE ask us to suspend our belief a little too high, and then drop it off a fucking skyscraper. Here are some examples of how if things in wrestling were handled in an even remotely realistic fashion, these deranged criminals would be on Death Row:


4) Stone Cold Steve Austin

Charges: Aggravated assault, attempted calculated murder, public drunkenness , DUI, grand theft beer truck/zamboni

Biggest offense: Attempted vehicular homicide

Austin's image is pretty much based around the concept that he is a rule breaker. In stark contrast to the faces of old, Austin gained fans not by supporting America and imploring kids to say their prayers and drink their milk, but rather by kicking his boss's ass on a weekly basis, and telling kids to go fuck themselves. All of this was in kayfabe of course (kayfabe = "in character", the etymology of which reportedly is derived from pig latin for "fake" - which pretty much makes me an "agfay" for knowing that), and only added to his appeal.


"Go fuck yourselves New York! ...Austin 3:16 shirts now just $19.99 at wwfshopzone.com!"


Possibly the most insulting act to wrestling fans' intelligence, however, came at Survivor Series 2000, when in a match between Austin and Triple H, Austin locked Helmsley into a car, somehow gained access to an industrial 50 ft. crane, and lifted the car with it and subsequently dropped it to the ground. Oftentimes the creative team will "write in" a reason as to why a wrestler legitimately has to take camera time off for personal reasons. Surely this was some sort of explanation for Helmsley having real-life surgery or something. This sort of heinous act would invariably severely injure, if not instantly kill someone.


Triple H was on RAW 15 days later, healthy as a horse!


3) Triple H

Charges: Indecent exposure, fraud, assault with a deadly weapon with intent to injure, conspiracy

Biggest offense: Videotaped and publicly admitted rape

The Game himself is just an upstanding, morally sound fellow, isn't he? Betraying long time friends to get ahead, hospitalizing innocent men, raping his boss's daughter...wait, what? In 1999, Stephanie McMahon was set to marry Test on an episode of RAW (always the best forum for a declaration of holy matrimony), but as the priest asked if anyone had any objections, H's music hit, and out he came with video evidence of him drugging, marrying, and subsequently raping a passed-out Stephanie. Vince McMahon had all the evidence he needed; he called the cops and Helmsley was sent directly to jail without parole. ...Just kidding, this is pro wrestling, McMahon instead did nothing other than sign himself into a title match against Helmsley. The punishment has to fit the crime, after all!


Christ, if real life was anything like wrestling Saddam would not have been captured and killed, he would have faced Dubya in a ladder match for the rights to face the champion at WrestleMania, and the 'Iraq war' would have been nothing more than Bush blowing his nose in the Iraqi flag in front of Saddam's weeping manager and Saddam calling everybody in attendance 'stupid Americans'.


2) The Big Boss Man

Charges: Animal cruelty, inhumane murder of animals, interrupting a funeral and dragging the dead man's goddamned corpse by a chain attached to his personalized police car (I can't even feign legal jargon with these crimes, they're too fucked up)

Biggest offense: Killing, slicing and dicing a man's dog without his consent and subsequently feeding it to him, cackling maniacally

The Big Boss Man was one of those mid-carders in the early 1990s who everyone knew but no one quite knew why he was on television. He's been offensively overweight his entire career, and his entire gimmick is that he's a cop. I know there are some uncreative gimmicks out there, but Christ, his gimmick may as well have been that he's a dinosaur.


"You know who are hard asses? T-REXES! But since we sadly can't fashion a man into a dinosaur, let's just make him a policeman."


In the late 1990s he came back with a complete character overhaul which included exchanging his blue police shirt for a black SWAT team vest. He also became the most sadistic motherfucker on the face of the planet. It happened in a strangely clandestine meeting in a seedy Worchester, MA hotel between the Boss Man himself and Al Snow. The two were bitter enemies at the time, yet somehow put their differences aside for a completely unexplained casual meeting before the show in Snow's hotel room, where Boss Man offered Snow some food. Disregarding the fact that the Boss Man was apparently out for blood, Snow readily accepted the mystery meat without so much as a precautionary sniff. After he ate it, the Boss Man excitedly told him that he just ate his own dog. Once again, instead of being thrown into jail and protested by PETA for the rest of his mortal life, a wacky gimmick match was created for the next Pay-Per-View event to settle the horrific injustice. The two fought in a hilariously failed "Kennel From Hell" match wherein dogs were supposed to be surrounding the ring, acting all ferocious and shit like dogs do, but instead just yelped defeatedly and pissed all over themselves.


1) The Big Boss Man (again)

Charges: See above.

Biggest offense: See above.

For some reason the Big Boss Man became the most soulless antichrist on the face of the planet (which laughably still didn't get him over as a heel), and his laundry list of mortal sins became way too much for just one entry. Try to follow this horrifying (and retarded) chain of events:


In another feud with The Big Show, Boss Man decided to get into his opponents head by somehow uncovering untold secrets Show had never told anyone in his life. Boss Man hired someone to tell Show that his father had passed away. At the funeral, he showed up in a custom made police car that he inexplicably owned, chained the casket to it and drove away whirring his sirens, screaming and shooting off his guns like it was an episode of a necrophiliac Dukes of Hazard. A few weeks after this display which likened him to a satanic Yosemite Sam, he decided to mess with Show a little more. He accomplished this by knocking on his mother's door, who, like Snow, readily invited the raging maniac who just stole her late husband's corpse into her home for milk and cookies. During the powwow, Boss Man got Big Show's mother to admit that he was a bastard child, and immediately exclaiming to the camera that he was a "Big Nasty Bastard!" while cackling to the camera. Boss Man then stole blankets from a nearby orphanage and strangled an elderly woman trying to cross the street with them while pissing on an American flag [citation needed].


Once again, a sordid affair that should probably have involved intervention of National Defense was instead solved by a wrestling match with some wacky stipulation. The Big Boss Man died a few years later, presumably from guilt.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

The 4 Requisite Jokes for Every Sitcom

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Friday, June 19, 2009

The 8 Most Loathsome Individuals at the Gym

By Russ Whiting

I’VE WORKED AS A PERSONAL TRAINER AT THE LOCAL FITNESS CLUB FOR THE PAST THREE years now, and attended the same club for almost five. In my time there, I’ve come across a vast array of people from all walks of life; some of them shining, affable individuals who have shaped my experience for the better; and then . . . from the other end of the spectrum, there are these people. These horrible, repugnant bastards:

pic1


8. PERSON THAT IRONICALLY WEARS FAR TOO LITTLE CLOTHING

WHO?

This is an aging bar whore or a steroid abuser far past their prime; perhaps by a decade or two, if we’re being lenient. Shhh . . . don’t tell that to the uneven globs of cellulite and acne-ridden lumps protruding from gym outfits that look small enough to have been embezzled from Baby Gap!

WHY THIS SUCKS:

Because going blind is not fun.

7. THE PERPETUAL IMPERFECTION

WHO?

These poor beings usually fall into one of two subcategories. On the one hand, you have the man or woman that is above the standards of what is considered healthy in areas such as body fat percentage, weight, or desired muscularity for their age group, yet for some inexplicable reason, it’s just never enough. In their mind they need to be “skinnier, bigger, or (insert desired trait here).” In severe cases, this is known as Body dysmorphic disorder, and while it’s not really a laughing matter to rip on people that suffer from a psychiatric disorder (Or is it?), it’s more prevalent than you think, and worth mentioning in an elucidating sense.

On the other hand, you have someone that could be accurately classified as a liar, an ignorant sap, or a poor misguided bastard that chronically brings about self-inflicted failure. They may workout adamantly in the gym for hours at a time, but usually subject themselves to a major flaw that inhibits themselves to the point of inconclusive results every time. It’s just like an ancient Greek tragedy, only with Twinkies in place of incest and eye mutilation!

WHY THIS SUCKS:

It’s great to set goals, or to aspire to build a physique that lives up to its fullest potential; however, these goals have to be well-defined and realistic. Unless you’re shoving needles into the cusp of your ass, or ingesting pills that are made to stimulate horses, results aren’t going to come overnight. Overall, it should be about your health and well being, not looking like a human anatomy chart or running twenty miles a day on a diet consisting of a crouton and two fronds of lettuce. Remember kids, if you tore your bicep from overworking it, or your shins have burst through the skin from excessive running, then a day or two off once in a while isn’t going to kill you. And ladies, I will still bang you even if you can’t cut off the flow of blood to my cock with your adductors.

Another thing that helps is what I like to call “not being a complete and utter dumb-ass.” Point in case: The overweight guy who spends four hours at the gym, partaking in every cardio, spin, and swimming class that is offered to him with the gusto of a pedophile at a playground. Let’s call him Ron.

After accomplishing such impressive feats of human tenacity and endurance, Ron goes home and proceeds to devour four pounds of cupcakes and a small child and then comes back wondering “Why he just can’t seem to shed any weight.” If you’re making the effort to discipline yourself in the gym, why not instill this in your diet as well? Devouring every Hostess or Little Debby snack item in sight may not be the best approach.


6. THE DISGRUNTLED GRUNTER

WHO?

No true list of loathsome individuals at the gym would be complete without this pitiful clown. It doesn’t matter if he’s lifting five pound dumbbells over his head, or doing tricep kickbacks for eight hundred – this guy or chick has been created in life with only one fundamental purpose etched into their brain: and that’s to grunt like a bloated, constipated mule while at the gym!

WHY THIS SUCKS:

Sure, I’m all for getting into the zone during your workouts. And sure, I’ve been known to exert a bit of audible breathing during a bout of intense muscular contraction. But does the whole damn gym really need to hear the blubbering wails of someone who sounds like they just busted a nut on a Kodiak bear’s face? These banshee shrieks are usually accompanied by the weights being slammed onto the floor in an attempt to bring even more attention to their endeavors.
“RARRGHHHHH! THIS HEAVY WEIGHT I JUST LIFTED IS SO . . . HEAVY!”
“Yes, we hear you loud and clear, douche bag. And we still want to stab you with an ice pick through your heart.”

5. THE CAMPER


WHO?
I know there are other people here that could really make expedient and advantageous use of this machine or exercise bench, but I think I’ll just pitch a tent, spread a picnic blanket, and sit here like an inebriated sloth on disability!”

WHY THIS SUCKS:
They’re only there when you need to get something done, leisurely loafing around like the gigantic bags of shit that they are. Extra points if they decided to whip out their cell phone while they’re “working out”, or if they stare at you like you just spit in their baby’s face when you ask them how much longer they’ll be there – on the very same machine they’ve been on for the past 45 minutes.

4. GUY KNOW IT ALL


WHO?
You could be Mr. Olympia or even have written several books on kinesiology. None of that matters! Because this person just expediently skimmed over the latest article in Men’s Diary Issue #69, and you’re totally doing it wrong!

WHY THIS SUCKS:
“Yo dawg, ever tried that exercise while juggling two medicine balls and clenching your left ass cheek at a hypotenuse angle?”
“No, but I’d sure like to finish a fucking repetition without hearing your grating, harpy-like voice!”



3. CHICK WHO ENJOYS BEING STARED AT

WHO?
What a sweetheart! She had the “philanthropic” and “practical” intentions to squeeze into a pair of spandex pants so tight, that I can see the cleft of her glutes with each step she takes on the treadmill! That, and every individual nook, cranny, and pore of her taint.
Oh wait, here’s another classy vixen, wearing lycra shorts the size of a baby’s bib and stretching with her ass six inches away from my face on the bench press! Bless her innocuous little soul!

WHY THIS SUCKS:
This can be a catch twenty two. Either you are so mesmerized that the sight of her pulls you in like a modern day siren’s song, and then BOOM, you have fallen off the treadmill in a gangly pile of limbs and other extremities; or you’re a shy guy and you can’t even use your favorite exercise machine because she’s perched upon one in the same vicinity like some jungle lioness in heat. So what’s the good part? It may actually motivate you to work out more often, if only for a glimpse of her sweet, sweet can. This also makes you a sad, lonely little man that doesn’t deserve the touch of a woman.

The best, and perhaps most deliciously paradoxical part of her dressing so scantily is that ninety nine percent of the people like you that attempt to talk to her while she’s performing squat thrusts like a nubile whore will be brushed away like insignificant granules of dirt and doo-doo. I’m sorry sweety, you don’t want to get hit on, you just want to be the hottest chick in the gym! My mistake!

2. THE WATCHER

WHO?

“Every breath you take, every move you make. I’ll be watching you.”
You’ve just about finished your final repetition after a solid chest workout, and you find that the Watcher is still lurking there in the corner, pretending to do bicep curls. Your eyes abhorrently move to his position, but he looks away and pretends that he’s engaged in something other than intently watching perspiration glean off your body. As soon as you look away, he’s on you again, watching. Waiting . . .

WHY THIS SUCKS:
Unless you’re a fifteen year old girl with no friends, enjoy being the target of pedophilia, or are Lindsay Lohan, this is unnerving as fuck, and we damn well know it’s not simply because he’s “making sure you’re using correct form.” This has actually affected me on a personal basis, and I sobbed openly like a sniveling child while typing this paragraph. Remind me to tell the story in a future article on day.

1. PERVASIVE NAKED OLD GUY IN THE LOCKER ROOM

WHO?

This guy seems to exist for no other reason than to materialize whenever you’re done with your workout and heading into the locker room; it doesn’t matter what you’re doing; taking a piss, changing quietly from your workout attire, or simply tying an errant shoelace. There he’ll be: that slovenly, hairy old dude. And oh yeah, he’s not wearing any clothes.

WHY THIS SUCKS


Sure, that’s what the locker room is there for. There are lockers (!), showers, toiletries, sometimes even saunas and steam rooms. But those are merely there for decoration when this guy’s on the prowl. Instead of going from one hygienic task to the next in a time-efficient, conventional manner that ninety nine percent of the normal population engages in, this guy is seen languidly lounging around the locker room benches like some ancient Roman dinner banquet attendee, the white towel draped loosely around his waist serving as the metaphorical toga.
The aforementioned could merely be relegated to irritating behavior, but no. Oh dear God, no. Things go terribly awry and fast. Naked old guy usually finds it pertinent to sweep one leg up on the bench for unknown reasons: like a blasphemous Captain Morgan, fully displaying his floppy, drooping balls. He’s just standing there, trying to uphold a conversation or humming annoyingly to himself, while his dank junk is dangling and swinging plainly for all to see like they’re the oscillating pendulum of a perverse grandfather clock. To add insult to eye-raping injury, Old Man Dangly is usually attempting (unsuccessfully) to apply a coat of Gold Bond medicated powder to his loins, hilariously and nauseatingly missing the mark by a long shot, and instead littering the floor and other people’s gym bags in a chalky white blanket analogous to some deviant Christmas morning.
“Sure is nice weather we’re having isn’t it? Oop, excuse me, I seemed to have missed a spot.”
“The forecast from my end says I’m going to stuff you and your old balls into a locker if you don’t hurry the hell up!"