How I very nearly brutally murdered an entire gym full of people.

The BBQ Pit
1

Common decency, something these people lack, and the threat of imprisonment were the only things that stopped me.

So, I went to the gym during lunch today. I figured I couldn’t go this afternoon, and it probably wouldn’t be packed at lunchtime. Wrong.

First of all, to Mr. Stankass McSweatyguy: Wipe your nasty putrid flesh juice off the machines when you finish! I do not want to work my obliques while sitting in a pool of your disgusting sweat.

Secondly, to Mrs. Bitchy Von Bench-Hog: Some of us do not have all day to wait around for your masculine breastless self to do your stretching exercises while you are on the only straight-press bench in the gym. Do your press and take your un-attractive non-ass someplace else to stretch.

Thirdly, to Mr. Jerkis Holierthanthouanof: Yes, you have big muscles. Yes, you are much bigger than me. Yes, you look like Adonis. However, this does not mean you can tell me to get off the incline press bench just because you don’t feel like waiting five seconds for me to finish my routine. This gym does not belong to you, you trogloditic piss-cunt. And if you roll your eyes at the small amount of weight I’m struggling to get up one more time, I’m gonna twist you into a pretzel, rip your penis off and put it in the freezer, smack you for an hour with the towel I used to mop up after Mr. Stankass McSweatyguy, and then serve you your own cocksicle. Got it?

Lastly, to Mr. Stankierass McFartsinthegym: Here’s a tip. Go outside of the small, enclosed, not well ventilated, work-out room before you decide to pass while I’m working out. My muscles require oxygen, and the noxious amnesia gas that you let leak out of you is depriving them of just that. At least have the common decency to say, “Excuse me.” you foul-smelling fucktard. It was all I could do to keep from stringing you up by your toes, stapling your eyelids open and cutting long gashes in your cheeks.

Okay… thanks for letting me get that out. I feel a little better now. Time for my daily cigarette.

2

Nice to know you don’t carry around any latent anger or anything. :smiley:

(I can sympathize. People, do you go to the gym for a fashion show, or do you go to WORK OUT, for Christ’s sake? And if some musclebound trog sneers at you because you’re moving less weight than he is, just keep in mind that it’s guys like us who’re making time with his girlfriend while he’s spending three hours a day at the gym.)

3

Dealing with these kinds of people three/four days a week for the past year has finally taken it’s toll. :stuck_out_tongue:

4

Amnesia gas?

5

Can you give mr. Jerkis my phone number?

And also, I’d like to send a big shout out to Mr. OgleBob Stareowitz who likes to stand in front of the hip adductor and abductor machines and watch the ladies spread their legs all afternoon while ‘stretching’ his arms out.

I know you’re looking at my sweaty snatch, Boo Radley, why don’t you buy me a drink first.

jarbaby

6

Okay… maybe it’s not amnesia gas, but it sure is noxious. Ya gotta give me that.*

[sub]*Credit The Critic[/sub]

7

This is a sig line if ever I’ve seen one.

8

“Sweaty Snatch”… now that’s a band name if I’ve ever heard one.

“WE. ARE. SWEATY. SNATCH.”
<insert guitar riff>
“Thank you, Poughkeepsie, good night!”

9

Oh, and let’s say a kind word for the gorgeous-woman-with-perfect-bod who poses and preens before the full-length mirror while blowdrying her hair, stark naked (there’s one of these in every gym I’ve ever gone to). Yes, honey, we’re very proud of you. But don’t you think you’ll mess your hair up less by pulling your top on before you style?

And here’s a mystery I’ve wondered about for years. How is it that no matter how empty the gym is, there is always somebody using the locker right next to mine?

10

Oh goodness…

my mother and I name people at our gym.

The Grunter, usually we are lucky and he is down in the bacement where they keep the free weights, with the rest of the Neaderthals. grunt, grunt Some days he comes up stairs to the machines and gives us a rousing chorus of what sounds like fatal bowel movements. No, he’s just lifting weights. UNGNNNNNNGHHHHHH! drop, smash! pause UGHNGGGGGGGGGGNGH! drop, smash! pause

The woman of Breasts, very in shape, well muscled like a cat, wears a skin tight leaotard and gym shoes. And she has Breasteses. Oh does she have breasts… My mother and I are decently well endowed ourselves but we really want to know the name of her bra manufacturer. Because her glorious chest appendages are very well supported. They would have to be.

My favorite I have yet to name. He’s hot, in that slick rat way, but I have yet to see him actually work out. I spend about a half hour in the machine room. So does he. I spend it working out. He spends it drinking water, watching a newspaper, and doing one lift on one machine. i have yet to see him do more than that. He wears cordinated gym sets, brings a swift gym bag and space age water bottle and does nothing. I waonder if he brags about spending so much time at the gym.

P.S. The time to go is midmorning, with the old and out of shape people. I like the old people and there is a real “we’re all in this together” kind of attitude.

11

Yes. Who IS this woman? And let us also speak to probably the same woman who stands in the full length mirror applying make up and hairstyling product to make sure she looks perfect…BEFORE GOING TO WORK OUT.

Here’s me: gray bike shorts, ratty ol’ calvin and hobbes t-shirt

Here’s her: shiny spandex hot pants, black ‘spinning shoes’ black tank top so tight it’ll cut off circulation, and a fantastically pinned up and sprayed hairstyle.

yeah.

12

That’s why I love my gym… it’s run by the local park district, costs me less than $150 a year, and the people that work out there are for the most part normal joes and jills – no musclebound roid freaks, no posers, no meat-market atmosphere… everyone’s just there to work out. That’s so much better than any Bally’s I’ve ever been to.

Yet another reason for me to get that ring of invisibility perfected as quickly as possible. :slight_smile:

And jarbaby… ain’t nuthin’ special about getting dressed up for the gym. Every normal guy at the gym I’ve ever seen has a ratty old t-shirt that’s too old and decrepit to wear out in public, sweat shorts that have been around since the Jurassic era and old crappy running shoes. Ya get dressed up for the gym, ya got too much freakin’ free time on your hands.

13

It’s too bad it wasn’t really amnesia gas … if it had been, you wouldn’t remember how much you hated him.

14

Yes, that’s me, except in tracksuit bottoms which are even less sexy than biker shorts. I also go to the gym first thing in the morning which means I haven’t showered, my hair is pulled back into a ponytail which it is both too short and too slept-in for, and (on the orders of my optometrist) I’m in glasses rather than contacts. I walk to the gym in a hooded sweatshirt so I can hide my face easily if I happen to run into anyone I know. Believe me, if a photo of me on a Gym Morning were ever to get around I would never make another Crush List, not that I usually do anyway…

15

Yup, that’s me, too. Yet somehow both of us manage to stay awake, unlike one of the guys at my gym, Coma Guy. Coma Guy does 10 or so reps and then sits on the machine for about five minutes doing nothing. Just staring into space. Not taking a breather. Not resting between sets. Staring. Once he actually fell asleep.

I’m also annoyed by a couple I call The Twins. I’ve seen them on the street holding hands, so presumably they’re in some sort of romantic relationship. But they look exactly alike. As if that’s not creepy enough, their workout pattern is identical. They run on treadmills, side by side, then when they’re sufficiently sweaty, they monopolize two weight machines. They each do a set, then switch machines, do another set, switch back. Um, go away, annoying clones.

16

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I work out at home. Free weights and a basic adjustable bench are cheaper than gym memberships; it’s easier for me to get motivated to go into the other room and workout than to suit up and drive down the street, and I don’t have to put up with any of the fuckwit retards I used to stumble across at Bally’s.

Sorry to hear they busted your groove.

17

You sure you’re not just showing up to the gym drunk?
Don’t forget Sir Newbie McClueless who has obviously never seen a weight machine in his entire life. He does three reps on it, determines that the weight is too much, too little, or the machine isn’t good enough, and moves down to the next piece of equipment to do another three reps. Well, I’ve never tried the sample size routine, but I know that they get awfully pissed if you try that at 31 flavors without actually buying anything.