And again I say…pics?
b]Otto**, I offered to pose in the SDMB Beefcake Calendar, but Opal said I couldn’t. 
All that pumping iron has made my hands tired… hence the coding trouble.
…and tired arms and hands mean I’ll need help taking care of certain other things, of course…
If we get EvilCam® up and running, I’m sure there will be plenty of shirtless (and maybe even nekkid) pics of me to be had. I just need to scrape up $100 for a cam and convince the ball and chain of the necessity to have one.
I’m excited. Last Friday, there was this really, really, really hot and cute twinkie in the weight room at the same time as I was doing my workout… I’m finding people at this gym do tend to stick to a weekly routine, because I see them at the same times on the same days.
He reminded me of Mike S., that cute Jewish chemical engineering student I briefly dated in the fall of 1995, as a convenient way to end a 20-month relationship with someone else through infidelity. I think this boy I saw last week was Jewish too - at least part of him was Jewish, as I later found out.
Did I mention I have a thing for Jewish boys?
I really hope that boy is there again tonight. While he was working his glutes on the StairMaster®, he seemed to take quite an interest in whatever I was doing with the weights. Rudimentary cruising. He’ll get better at it over the next few years. He’s just a freshman.
I know, I’m engaged. But it’s fun to be cruised. 
And feel a bit less like the perverted old queen that I am.
Damn. The twinkie wasn’t there yesterday evening. And I’ve canceled today’s gym session in order to spend time with Jer (do a tour of Place-des-Arts, have a “date night” and see that Tuscany chick-flick - God, we’re getting old and overdomestic - and we’re not even married yet). Damn damn damn.
I’m increasing my gym sessions from three times a week to four. I must, I must, I must. I must increase my bust.