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.

P Port Pix

Wanna see the worst passport picture of me ever? When Axel saw this his immediate response was "you can get a new picture taken, right?" to which I responded accordingly, "No . . . . . my anchorman hair will withstand the test of time, travel, and beyond."

Did you know this movie existed?

Huh, whaaaa?

WHY IS THE WORLD SHARING MY BRAIN!?!? Magillicutty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayrantee It!

Do you remember back in the 80s when the radio used to play all those Men's Wearhouse commercials where it was like an actual voicemail from a 'customer' left on the Men's Wearhouse answering machine? Some customer would leave a message and gush about their experience at Men's Wearhouse and how it like saved their career/wedding day/life? Did I ever tell you that I used to call Men's Wearhouse and leave fictional messages about how my husband had a last minute conference in Chicago and didn't have a suit and how he waltzed into the Chicago Men's Wearhouse and in less than an hour walked out in a brand new suit and his career was literally saved by the fabulousity of that Men's Wearhouse suit? And shock of all shocks, my messages never made it to the radio and that really pissed me off. . . like they could tell the difference between a 12 year old girl pretending to be a satisfied wife and a real wife? Whatevsssss!

Today at work, Yedi goes "Why is it that whenever you go to the bathroom you run like crazy? I can hear you running in the hallway. Do you have some sort of bladder problem?" So I explained to him, "I imagine I'm in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom when they are in that little cart on those tracks and that huge, gigantor ball is rolling down the tracks after them and they are about to get crushed . . . I pretend I'm outrunning that massive ball" . . . and by Yedi's blank expression I sorta wish I had just lied and said I've got a bladder infection.

Rhoid Rage

I just got back from the women's bathroom on our floor and whilst washing my hands I noticed a half used tube of hemorrhoid ointment sitting next to the soap. What is THAT all about? How do you accidentally leave that behind in an office building restroom!? Also, next to the women's restroom is a door and above the door is a sign that reads 'Telephone Room' and one can 99.99999% of the time hear a phone ringing from behind the door! I picture this gigantor telephone in there just ringing and ringing and ringing . . . . and I bet it's red and I bet it links you to the President of the United States of America.

MY HAIRS

This chick is SOOOOOOOOOOO copying my 'wing' haircut it's not even funny.