I FN Hate….The Gym
Now anyone who has seen me will know that I am a picturesque example of a perfect physical specimen. But in order to retain my fantastic physique, it requires trips to the gym. Dull work but when you look this good it’s necessary. Some aspects of the gym are fun, but there are also plenty of annoying things to go with them. And as this is FNHate, it is those that I shall be concentrating on!
Firstly, it’s the meatheads in the weights section. Now, lest I be accused of just being jealous, I do envy some of their physiques (although I’d rather just be toned than RAWR MUSCLY. Sadly I’m neither). But it’s not my vast inferiority that annoys me about them, it’s all the grunting and gurning and TESTOSTERONE. Yes, lifting weights is hard work, but usually twice a week I’ll see someone finish a set then just throw the weights across the other end of the room, nearly hitting someone, as if to say “rawr look how hard I am”. It’s pathetic.
Then there is the people who lounge around doing nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I love loitering around having a natter while I’m at the gym, but don’t stand/sit on one of the machines on a Saturday afternoon and do it. Time is money people, and I need to FEEL THE BURN but I can’t because you are hogging all the equipment talking about Eastenders or some shit.
Also, there are too many attractive young women who go there. It’s incredibly distracting for me when I’m running/cycling/whatever away and then a girl gets on the machine in front of me and all I can see is that arse moving back and forth….pendulously…..like some sort of beautiful grandfather clock……..now I’ve lost my concentration! See what happens!
Finally, we have the changing rooms. Now, as a considerate man, I tend to wear underwear, or on the rare occasion that I shower there, pop a towel on. But some gentlemen (usually much older ones) have said balls to that. Quite literally. There’s nothing quite as sobering as some 60 year old bloke walking around with his knob out. Please, keep it hidden! If I wanted to see a hairy old sausage I’d look in the bottom of my freezer.