Someone
sent this to me and I thought it was one ofthe funniest things
I had ever read.
For my Birthday this year, my wife (the dear) purchased
a week of private lessons at the local health club for me. Although
I am still in great shape since playing on my high school softball
team, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give
it a try.
I called the club and made my reservations with a personal
trainer named Tawny, who identified herself as a 26-year old
aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim
wear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started.
The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
Monday:
Started my day at 6:00 AM. Tough to get out of bed, but found
it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find
Tawny waiting for me. (She is something of a goddess with blond
hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. WOO HOO!!!)
Tawny gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She took my
pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. She was alarmed that
my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to
her in her aerobic outfit. (I enjoyed watching the skillful
way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my own workout
today. Very inspiring.) Tawny was encouraging as I did my sit-ups,
although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole
time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
Tuesday:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out of
the door. Tawny made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron
bar into the air...then she put weights on it! My legs were
a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile.
Tawny's rewarding smile made it all worth while. I feel GREAT!!!
It's a whole new life for me.
Wednesday:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush
on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I
believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as
long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a
Geo in the club lot. Tawny was impatient with me, insisting
that my screams bothered the other club members. (Her voice
is a little too perky for early in the morning, and when she
scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.)
My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Tawny put me on
the stair monster. (Why in HELL would anyone invent a machine
to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators?) Tawny
told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said
some other crap too.
Thursday:
Tawny was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed
as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. (I
couldn't help being a half hour late. It took that long for
me to tie my fricking shoes.) Tawny took me to work out with
dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the men's
room. She sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put me
on the rowing machine... which I sank.
Friday:
I hate that BITCH Tawny more than any human being has ever hated
any other human being in the history of the world. (Stupid,
skinny, anemic little cheerleader wanna-be BITCH). If there
was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain,
I would beat her with it. Tawny wanted me to work on my triceps.
I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the
floor, don't hand me fricking barbells or anything that weighs
more than a sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned in the sadist
school you attended and graduated magna cum laude from, you
Nazi Bitch.) The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health
and P.E. teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer,
like the drama coach or the choir director?
Saturday:
Tawny left a message on my answering machine in her grating,
shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing
her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However,
I lacked the strength even to use the TV remote and ended up
watching eleven straight hours of the son of a bitching weather
channel.
Sunday:
I'm having the church van pick me up for services today so I
can go and thank God that this week is over. I will also pray
that next year my wife (the BITCH) will choose a gift for me
that is fun...like a root canal or a prostatectomy.
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