I was supposed to go to the gym tonight. Yet again. Supposed to. Of course, I came home exhausted after yet another hard day at the office and just plopped my skinny ass down on mee bed and Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...I've been a member of my gym since 2002, and thankfully my monthly membership rate has gone down to a now reasonable price after having given them an arm, a leg, and one of my testicles for the last three years! It was definitely worth the investment though; when I started going, I had never set foot in a gym in my entire life, and I went with extreme and intense dedication at least twice to three times week for the next two and half years. I definitely acquired definition and toning on my body I had never had before and even put on some much needed weight on my once puny frame.
Then in late 2004, and most of 2005, I started getting real lazy and sick of the gym! UGH! After working nine hours or so daily, the last thing I wanted was to spend it afterwards surrounded by iron equipment and an environment full of the charming aroma of foot and ass! Now I've relegated myself to going consistently some weeks, dropping out others and then going back again.
Mind you, the only real incentive sometimes, to be honest, was and still is some of the hot boys and men working out there you can kinda catch an eyeful of and flirt with in the jacuzzi, sauna, and showers! WINK! WINK! My gym (as many are) is full of homos! Hard, horny, and ready! To workout of course! AHEM.
The media doesn't help me feel better either about myself when I don't go work out; I feel lazy and like a real loser when I don't go and try to sculpt my body to look like those hot male Hollywood celebrities, models, or porn stars. I know women are made to feel this pressure all the time; it's now happened to us guys, and in the superficial gay world, it's worse!
I know, I shouldn't be so hard on myself, I mean, I really don't have such a bad body, just a lean swimmer's build that's all. Maybe I'm not meant to have that perfect male washboard abbed big biceped hot pecs kinda frame. I at least was blessed with decent looks, a fast efficient metabolism, and a nice big penis!
Not to brag, but I need anything to make me feel better about having just come home tonight again instead of heading straight to Bally's.
I can always go tomorrow, if not, the next day, or maybe the next day after that or perhaps...
4 comments:
pfft! whatever, pinche flaco.
I new someone who always that you were perfect. Someone who did love you for who you were and what you could have become.
Your perfectly fine just the way were and are now.
Mrs. Butterball is just jealous. Of course I can throw stones.... I have no glass house to hide for I am just as rubbery..... bwahahahah
you look good in that photo... Yeah, for me, sometimes, the best part of going to the swimming pool (I don't work out, I just swim) is the shower room and sauna...
You can have one of my testicles, I dont need them anymore. I love the gym (jim), it makes me feel high. It is all good: the eye candy, the music, laps in the pool, laps in the steam room, nobody talks, the sticky sauna, the strange brown scum floating on top of the jacuzzi, gazing outside the windows as the girls(?) walk up s.m. blvd. btw (hot picture, I think you need a massage with oils and candels.
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