I angry blogged this last night and than quietly slipped into a peaceful hibernation full of dreams about Prince William and Kate Middleton watching the Lion King together before I could post it. It was probably God’s kind way of saying, “You sound like an asshole and should delete this immediately.”
Well, guy who wears jeans to the gym and has vigorous workouts is still unfortunately a major part of my life. I have given him the very original nickname of “jeans”. I refuse to capitalize the “j” in jeans because I hate him with every fiber of my face. For those who weren’t aware, my face is made of cotton and rayon and my grandfather is Eli Whitney’s butler.
Sometimes I come across people and I immediately dislike them without rhyme or reason. I don’t know what it is about them, maybe it’s their musk, anorexic like appearance or salty attitude, but sometimes I hate people immediately on sight. jeans is one of those people. From the moment he walked into the gym I was instantly, “Fuck that guy to Hell!” jeans is apparently like a cat because the more I seem to detest him the more he seems to gravitate towards me. I’m the sun, he is the moon, our gym is the dinosaur race and my anger is a meteorite. That doesn’t make any fucking sense! Anyways, whenever I get on a treadmill he hops on the one right next to mine. He wants us to be friendly neighbors! I think he wants me to be Clarissa (Explains It All?) and he wants to be Sam, her attractive next door neighbor. Get your hair cut Sam! You’ll never get a job! I’m convinced he’s convinced I like him! Every so often he casually glances at me like I’m giving him seductive fuck me eyes. In reality jeans I’m giving you “fuck you” eyes.
For god sakes you’re wearing JEANS at a gym! I might as well not wear a bra! It’s insanity. Your sweaty skin is chaffing against raw denim. For some reason this makes me think you probably get lots of yeast infections. You’re not Patrick Swayze and this
unfortunately isn’t Roadhouse so stop trying. Little known fact, Patrick Swayze never had a yeast infection in his life.
Today, I found out jeans is a spitter (not in the sexual sense). After he “works out” he goes outside to spit on the sidewalk. I will never understand why men think it’s appropriate or manly to do this. Unless you’re drunk or under the age of 15 months, it is never acceptable to spit, retch or urinate in public. I was deathly ill with the common cold last month and was so congested I felt like Richard Gere with two hamsters lodged in the back of my throat and yet, I still resisted the urge to hock a loogie (yet I still managed to urinate in public). I swallowed it (I mean that sexually) and proceeded life like a lady. It was disgusting.