X-ER-THIGHS

For the last hour I've been coming up with brilliant reasons to avoid going to the gym after work today. See, if I don't eat anything for the rest of the day, it'll be like I burned off at least 600 calories and I don't even burn that many calories when I do go to the gym, so why even go? Duh. I really really do need to go since I didn't do hip hop dance class this week nor did I go to the gym at all though I pinkie swore with myself that I would do 30 mins of workout each and every day after work. . . guess I'll have to break my own pinkie . . . . AGAIN. The only working out was done on Sunday, when Axel snuck me into Gold's Gym in the Castro where he is a member. We spent the whole time doing a bajillion butt machines. I have never seen so many butt machines in one gym in my entire life. . . . then again, it is in the Castro . . . . sooooooooo (sheepish shrug) whatcha gonna do? The worst machine is called the Butt Buster and it is this crazy contraption where you actually have to strap your arms and ankles into the machine, then seductively apply KY Jell. . . ummm never mind. Whilst working out we kept having stupid conversations like this under our cumulative breath:

Axel: See that guy with the butt?

Leslie: The one in the unitard?

Axel: I bet he's a dancer.

Leslie: Whatever he is, he's been giving me the hairy eyeball.

Axel: No, he was totally checking ME out.

Leslie: You wish.

I sorta believe that that Sunday workout should carry me through until next Sunday, though I'm pretty positive that's not how it works.



I kid you not, my hair looks EXACTLY like that kid's right now.