Wednesday, January 09, 2013
We need to talk about gym etiquette for a moment apparently.
If your lunch yesterday consisted of cabbage, beans, and onions, and then you ate the super spicy burrito and washed it down with a bucket of tequila, please don't come to the gym. The fans in the gym are strategically placed so as to move air to keep people cool. But what that means when you are ass-fogging the joint is that while you don't smell it much (it is blowing away from you) the rest of us have watering eyes and are barely able to keep from blowing chunks. Those aren't beads of sweat, but tears from our eyes you merciless old hag. We thought about stabbing you, but the idea that more of those gasses might escape kept us all from doing it. I mean seriously, if you had to drive here to the gym with your windows down in the middle of winter because you couldn't take it, what the hell did you think the effect on the gym would be. Fuck me. And nobody will be able to use that bathroom until a EPA superfund cleanup team has a chance to sanitize it.
And for you Mr. EatsaBaleofHay - flush. That little silver handle on the place you are making your deposits isn't there for fashion. I don't need to know what you ate for the last week. I don't to see or smell your shit sitting in the bowl. Sure, when you go it's going to smell, I'm not talking about that. It is when it sits there. Festering. Emitting smells that should never escape from a turd. Concentrating in that stall so that when some poor schlep like me hustles in because that last leg press has given me a turtle head sticking out, I get the unexpected punch to the nose from your stench to go with my about to rebel bowels.
The other person I want to address today is you Mr. NoDeodorant. I know it seems backwards to put deodorant on before getting sweaty, but you really need to do so. It cracks me up that you are here looking all buff and macho but that you smell like a homeless guy's nutsack mixed with rancid sour cream. The chicks don't dig it, none of us do. Believe me, if your hygiene is that poor under your pits, nobody is ever getting near your dick. Doesn't matter how your muscles look. And following your workout you have the nerve to go directly into one of the tanning booths. That room will be unusable for hours now jackass. Sure, I guess you are helping prevent other people getting skin cancer and dieing, which is nice, but that still doesn't justify you spreading that foul-assed funk.
Posted by Lobster Boy at 1/09/2013 01:08:00 PM