Belief
LBB had a post awhile ago asking his readers what they believe. Being a rather opinionated person, I obviously have thousands of beliefs. But here are some random ones. I believe:
That loyalty is the best trait in a friend, followed closely by "deviant sense of humor."
That if 4% of the people pay 90% of the taxes then they should just round it up and give the rest of us a break. (Okay maybe I don't actually believe in this one but damn it would be nice.)
That it doesn't hurt anyone for me to believe that the people I love who are gone from this world, have gone somewhere better.
That having an opinion which differs from mine is better than having no opinion at all. Unless you're just mindlessly parroting what you hear, in which case you should go find other people who do the same thing and occupy each other.
That laughter doesn't fix everything, but it gives you strength so you can try.
That some people are just crazy and you can't explain it, rehabilitate it or understand it. Just check the "crazy" column off and move on.
That living to eat is better than eating to live, as long as you have the willpower to get your ass on a treadmill.
That the words "Azerbijian, Andalusia, proliferous, dichotomy, irreverent, paradigm, exorbitant, symbiotic, discrepancy" and "verboten" are really fun to say.
That the true test of what I've accomplished in life will be how my kids turn out.
That you're never too old to eat Captain Crunch for dinner, get dressed up for Halloween, wade in a public fountain or slide down a banister on your ass.
That there is a hell, and in it people are eating veggie burgers, drinking non-alcoholic beer, watching televised golf and scrubbing toilets 24-7.
That sex is therapeutic, followed closely by playing the guitar, working out and singing in the shower.
That life is beautiful, but it's also scary, exhilarating, funny, abnormal, wild, challenging, amusing, devastating, inspiring, spectacular, infuriating, crazy, amazing, exhausting, invigorating and passionate.
That "A good friend will bail you out of jail, but a great friend will be sitting in the cell next to you saying 'Damn that was crazy.'"
That people (including myself) spend too much time stressing over shit that seems important but is actually trivial.
That American football is the greatest sport in the world. And the Raiders will win more than 2 games this year.
That one day I'll see a Chinese couple walking down the street, with their adopted blond-haired, blue-eyed baby.
That Batman is the best superhero ever, even if he doesn't have actual superpowers.
That faith will pull you through, whether it's religious faith, faith in yourself, faith in your loved ones, faith in life itself or faith in the healing power of ice cream and Spicy Buffalo and Ranch Doritos.
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
May 1, 2007
October 10, 2006
My MRI
My MRI
But first: Yes, I'm having a show tonight, 10 p.m. ET. So that means all of you in the appropriate time zones can do me all the huge favor of watching Friday Night Lights tonight so that it doesn't get canceled. I love that show. "Clear eyes full hearts can't lose."
Yesterday I headed to the hospital for an MRA of my head and an MRI of my brain. I had a really bad headache on the left side of my head and nausea for about 6 days, and it felt like there was a lot of pressure in there. The neurologist wants to make sure nothing serious is going on so he ordered up some tests. The radiology department had called to confirm my appointment beforehand and they asked if I was claustrophobic. I've never been claustrophobic but when they said the whole thing would last about an hour and a half I started thinking maybe I wouldn't do so well locked up in a coffin-like setting for an hour and a half. They said the doctor could prescribe me a Valium but I refused, for some reason not wanting to be a pill-popper. Yes, the person who does like 5 shots of tequila without thinking about it refused to take ONE Valium one time, as not to be a pill popper. That makes plenty of sense.
I figured all I needed was some form of inspiration. I could either pretend to be disarming Hal in 2001: A Space Odyssey or I could be a ninja assassin waiting patiently for my next target. Before we left, I removed all 6 of my ear piercings and my nose pierce, then put on a tank top, yoga pants and a long-sleeved shirt. When I got to the radiology department the tech looked me up and down and said "I don't think you need to change, you're not wearing a single piece of metal are you?" Nope. Let's do this.
When I lay down on the stretcher, the tech strapped the thing on that goes around my head and I started to feel a bit tense. Then he put the "emergency stop" squeezy thing (it looks like a blood pressure pump) in my hand and loaded me into the MRI machine, which was cylindrical but only had about a foot of space all around me. That's when the full-fledged panic began and I started doubting I could really go through with it. But then the machine stopped, I thought I was going to be shut into it like on television but it only went to my thighs. So my knees and feet were free! Which was enough for me, the panic stopped and I relaxed, knowing that I could get through all one hour and a half of this.
The tech put headphones on me, but warned that the crappy sound system they had wasn't enough to even remotely drown out the noise of the machine. And he was right, I could only hear the songs when the machine wasn't going. Which turned out to not really be a bad thing, considering what station it was on. But the noise was crazy, I didn't have a headache when I went into the machine but I had one when I came out.
Thoughts during my MRI:
Okay you can do this, no problem. Holy crap that's loud. Hey remember that article in the Post about the guy who died during an MRI because a tech left a metal wastebasket in the room and it killed him. Okay stop thinking about that. Well it would have already happened right, I mean the magnets are already on so if there was a wastebasket in this room I would have already been killed by it right. Yeah. And don't think about that X-Files episode either where the guy had supernatural powers and fried the woman in the MRI machine. Stop! Then again I am the person who read that Crichton book about plane crashes Airframe while actually on a plane. So I guess this does no harm. What song is this playing... oh God it's that annoying ass James Blunt song. And there's nowhere to run. Hey tech guy, turn the machine back on!! Turn it back on!! This fucking sucks.
So think about something else... man I hope nothing is wrong. Stop you're going to get all mushy and then the magnets will attach to the moisture and fry your brain. Okay not really but stop. Think about food. Ooooh food. Where should we eat after this? Because we most certainly are going out to eat after this damn thing and screw the PSE&G bill, screw it right in the ass. Do I want the Olive Garden? Yum, fettucine alfredo neverending pasta bowl. That might just be the ticket. Except they don't have miso soup. Miso soup, wtf? Yes, you want miso soup. Dammit okay where can we get miso soup... Komegashi's is too far. Ah, Minado's. Lovely lovely all you can eat Japanese buffet. Yes, we'll go there. Okay what was next on the list of things to keep my mind off this infernal noise... Halloween costumes. Cowboys, no too trendy right now. Freaking Heath Ledger. 70's people? Geo looks cute in those pants but that clothing hurts my eyes. Oooh pirates, what about pirates. A kick ass pirate though not a skanky one. Who wants to be a skanky pirate. "Avast ye mateys and jizz on me face" eew fricken skanky ass pirate. Pirate's eye. Hey, why didn't the pirate take his son to the movie? Because it was rated arrrrgggh. HAHA. Stupid ass joke and yet I laugh every time.
*40 minutes later*
It's good I didn't eat or I would be covered in vomit right now. This noise is so loud. Stop moving, the tech said you were moving before. Damn radio station had to play a Guitar Hero song. Guitar Hero is going to be my downfall. I wonder what the songs are going to be on Guitar Hero 2, they didn't have them listed on the pre-order box at Best Buy. Don't throw up. 2 more minutes the tech says, until he's coming in to give you the dye injection. Has anyone ever looked forward to an injection so much I think not. I wonder which vein he's going to use. 5 bucks says it's the one inside the elbow, easy bet. Damn this 2 minutes is even longer than the treadmill minutes. MRI minutes are waaaaay longer than treadmill minutes by like 10:1. I'm going to throw up, no don't throw up. Okay here comes my shot. He thinks I'm going to jerk when I get the shot, please. I had about 300 needles poked into me during the 6 weeks I was in the hospital with pre-term labor. My arms are going to be like hello old friend. I won't say that I'm used to shots though because then he'll think I'm a heroin addict. Which vein, which vein... Yes! I win. I wonder if the dye will make my pee all purply. For all this the least they could do is give me purply pee.
Tech: Okay now we need to get more data with the contrast liquid in there. It'll be another 10 minutes.
Me: You said 8 before!
Tech: It's 10
Me: Dangit. I'm going to throw up.
Tech: Really?
Me: No.
But first: Yes, I'm having a show tonight, 10 p.m. ET. So that means all of you in the appropriate time zones can do me all the huge favor of watching Friday Night Lights tonight so that it doesn't get canceled. I love that show. "Clear eyes full hearts can't lose."
Yesterday I headed to the hospital for an MRA of my head and an MRI of my brain. I had a really bad headache on the left side of my head and nausea for about 6 days, and it felt like there was a lot of pressure in there. The neurologist wants to make sure nothing serious is going on so he ordered up some tests. The radiology department had called to confirm my appointment beforehand and they asked if I was claustrophobic. I've never been claustrophobic but when they said the whole thing would last about an hour and a half I started thinking maybe I wouldn't do so well locked up in a coffin-like setting for an hour and a half. They said the doctor could prescribe me a Valium but I refused, for some reason not wanting to be a pill-popper. Yes, the person who does like 5 shots of tequila without thinking about it refused to take ONE Valium one time, as not to be a pill popper. That makes plenty of sense.
I figured all I needed was some form of inspiration. I could either pretend to be disarming Hal in 2001: A Space Odyssey or I could be a ninja assassin waiting patiently for my next target. Before we left, I removed all 6 of my ear piercings and my nose pierce, then put on a tank top, yoga pants and a long-sleeved shirt. When I got to the radiology department the tech looked me up and down and said "I don't think you need to change, you're not wearing a single piece of metal are you?" Nope. Let's do this.
When I lay down on the stretcher, the tech strapped the thing on that goes around my head and I started to feel a bit tense. Then he put the "emergency stop" squeezy thing (it looks like a blood pressure pump) in my hand and loaded me into the MRI machine, which was cylindrical but only had about a foot of space all around me. That's when the full-fledged panic began and I started doubting I could really go through with it. But then the machine stopped, I thought I was going to be shut into it like on television but it only went to my thighs. So my knees and feet were free! Which was enough for me, the panic stopped and I relaxed, knowing that I could get through all one hour and a half of this.
The tech put headphones on me, but warned that the crappy sound system they had wasn't enough to even remotely drown out the noise of the machine. And he was right, I could only hear the songs when the machine wasn't going. Which turned out to not really be a bad thing, considering what station it was on. But the noise was crazy, I didn't have a headache when I went into the machine but I had one when I came out.
Thoughts during my MRI:
Okay you can do this, no problem. Holy crap that's loud. Hey remember that article in the Post about the guy who died during an MRI because a tech left a metal wastebasket in the room and it killed him. Okay stop thinking about that. Well it would have already happened right, I mean the magnets are already on so if there was a wastebasket in this room I would have already been killed by it right. Yeah. And don't think about that X-Files episode either where the guy had supernatural powers and fried the woman in the MRI machine. Stop! Then again I am the person who read that Crichton book about plane crashes Airframe while actually on a plane. So I guess this does no harm. What song is this playing... oh God it's that annoying ass James Blunt song. And there's nowhere to run. Hey tech guy, turn the machine back on!! Turn it back on!! This fucking sucks.
So think about something else... man I hope nothing is wrong. Stop you're going to get all mushy and then the magnets will attach to the moisture and fry your brain. Okay not really but stop. Think about food. Ooooh food. Where should we eat after this? Because we most certainly are going out to eat after this damn thing and screw the PSE&G bill, screw it right in the ass. Do I want the Olive Garden? Yum, fettucine alfredo neverending pasta bowl. That might just be the ticket. Except they don't have miso soup. Miso soup, wtf? Yes, you want miso soup. Dammit okay where can we get miso soup... Komegashi's is too far. Ah, Minado's. Lovely lovely all you can eat Japanese buffet. Yes, we'll go there. Okay what was next on the list of things to keep my mind off this infernal noise... Halloween costumes. Cowboys, no too trendy right now. Freaking Heath Ledger. 70's people? Geo looks cute in those pants but that clothing hurts my eyes. Oooh pirates, what about pirates. A kick ass pirate though not a skanky one. Who wants to be a skanky pirate. "Avast ye mateys and jizz on me face" eew fricken skanky ass pirate. Pirate's eye. Hey, why didn't the pirate take his son to the movie? Because it was rated arrrrgggh. HAHA. Stupid ass joke and yet I laugh every time.
*40 minutes later*
It's good I didn't eat or I would be covered in vomit right now. This noise is so loud. Stop moving, the tech said you were moving before. Damn radio station had to play a Guitar Hero song. Guitar Hero is going to be my downfall. I wonder what the songs are going to be on Guitar Hero 2, they didn't have them listed on the pre-order box at Best Buy. Don't throw up. 2 more minutes the tech says, until he's coming in to give you the dye injection. Has anyone ever looked forward to an injection so much I think not. I wonder which vein he's going to use. 5 bucks says it's the one inside the elbow, easy bet. Damn this 2 minutes is even longer than the treadmill minutes. MRI minutes are waaaaay longer than treadmill minutes by like 10:1. I'm going to throw up, no don't throw up. Okay here comes my shot. He thinks I'm going to jerk when I get the shot, please. I had about 300 needles poked into me during the 6 weeks I was in the hospital with pre-term labor. My arms are going to be like hello old friend. I won't say that I'm used to shots though because then he'll think I'm a heroin addict. Which vein, which vein... Yes! I win. I wonder if the dye will make my pee all purply. For all this the least they could do is give me purply pee.
Tech: Okay now we need to get more data with the contrast liquid in there. It'll be another 10 minutes.
Me: You said 8 before!
Tech: It's 10
Me: Dangit. I'm going to throw up.
Tech: Really?
Me: No.
September 15, 2006
At The Gym Some More
At The Gym Some More
(i.e. More "Thoughts On The Treadmill" and then some.)
Inner Monologue on the Treadmill:
This treadmill isn't so bad, it has a good view of the television. Unless of course someone takes the treadmill right in front of-- and there it is. Oh well, I have my iPod for a reason. And this chick does have a really nice ass. They're like two cantaloupes hanging out next to each other. I love cantaloupes, especially that Filipino melon drink. Wow, her ass really does look like two cantaloupes. I should probably stop staring in case she turns around. Oh, what do I care. She blocked Sportscenter. The least she could do is let me stare at her ass until I'm finished on this Instrument of Hell. I like how it seems like I'm jammin' to some hip-hop song but really it's "I'm Blue" by Eiffel 65. If they only knew. Hey there's my fake Gym Boyfriend walking in. And he's not wearing a hat this time, oh good. I never get to see his face. He needs to lose the shell necklace though. Those are awful. Why do men wear those. It's not cute. How many minutes have I been on this thing, it must be at least 20... 5. Five??? Five freaking minutes??? This sucks. I hate the gym.
Inner Monologue at the "Body Sculpting" Class:
I didn't bring my very own what are those called... Yoga mat. Speaking of which, how does yoga even help tone anything, don't you just lay on a mat and breathe for awhile? Like those overweight movie stars that say they lost 60 lbs due to yoga. Rooooiiiiiiiighht. Hey, focus, focus! I don't have a mat. Okay they have ones you can borrow, eeew, let's not think about how many dirty people have sweated all over this thing after a long day at work. It's not like YOU just took a bath. You dirtball. Okay focus, we're about to begin "Body Sculpting." What are they going to sculpt me with anyway, a chisel? HA HA HA! Damn that joke was so stupid and yet I cracked myself up. Now people are looking at me, they think I'm "The Crazy Girl At The Gym." So what bitches, turn back around and keep watching yourself in the mirror and lifting weights. Do I have to do everything around here.
Well, that wasn't so bad. I kind of jammed through the first half. WOO-HOO what's next! I rock, I rock... oh fuck. The instructor wants us to grab the "Swedish Balls." Oh please let that mean some hot Stefan Edberg-y guy is standing around here naked. Or that someone just got take-out from IKEA. Please don't let it be that big bouncy ball of torture. Dammit, yes there it is. I hate these things. Okay for the first exercise we're going to balance on top of the ball and push our legs to the ceiling with our hips. What??? Why don't we start with something easier, like sitting on the ball and clapping our hands or something. Fuck. Five bucks say I fall off my ball first. Yes, I win. Another five bucks says I'm the only one in this class of smarmy people that does. Yes, I win again. I hate the gym.
Inner Monologue on the Nautilus Machines:
Let's start with my favorite machine, just because it gives me time to think about which one I'll use next. Remember, low weights high reps. That will tone me up without making me all bulgy. Like that woman. Oooh look, her and her friends are eyeballing how much weight I'm using. Hey! 30 lbs is respectable, low weights high reps you bitches. Then I won't look like you, all fucking Mrs. Schwarzeneggers. No wait, that's Maria Shriver and she's girly. Well, you know what I mean, you bulgy muscular freaks. Keep walking. Yeah, that's right, I'm straight. And what!!! Straight people go to the gym too you know. Damn, they left. Now what am I going to look at. Well lookee-here who just sat down at the pull-y thing in front of me. It's my hot fake Gym Boyfriend. Hoo-waaah, that is one nice body. Look at those arms. Perfection. Look at that back, beautiful. Look at... Oh no. Dammit, I knew it. His face is all messed up. Well there it is, proof that there is no God, or if there is one he's really mean. No benevolent God would put a face like that on a body like that. It's just cruel. Oh good, my reps are over. Time for a new machine.
Hey it's Useless Gym Girl! I'm so happy! Let's see, okay her boyfriend is telling her where he's going to be and what he's going to be doing. Will she be okay by herself? Will she? Will she? Yes! Apparently she will. And now she's going over to the knee side to side machine and putting it at the lowest weight. Side to side four times... wait where are you going? Must not have liked that machine, going to the butterfly one. Lowest weight... four times. Wait, she's getting up again. What's going on here. Oh my Lord she's going to use every single machine in here at the lowest weight four times and then leave. She really does live up to her name. She didn't touch the anal pron machine though. I don't blame her. Geo makes fun but I don't use the anal pron machine unless he's around. Someone might poke me. "No one will poke you Riss," Geo says. Yes, they just might. Because I'm on my hands and knees with my ass in the air and when I see people do that I feel like poking them. "If someone pokes you it will be me." Well then that's why I need you in front of me to make sure people don't poke me, and to make sure you don't poke me either.
Alrighty then, last machine. Okay I need to take my mind off how boring this is. So what does this thing do? Ahh, I am working out my trapezius and my rhomboids. Those lazy rhomboids! Think they can just sit around eating bon-bons on the couch and watching "Montel" all day. You have to stay on top of them or they don't do their jobs. And that trapezius, once I caught him drinking milk out of the gallon container just so he wouldn't have to wash a cup. Take this you lazy ass punk! And this! And this! And this! Okay, high reps suck. I hate the gym.
(i.e. More "Thoughts On The Treadmill" and then some.)
Inner Monologue on the Treadmill:
This treadmill isn't so bad, it has a good view of the television. Unless of course someone takes the treadmill right in front of-- and there it is. Oh well, I have my iPod for a reason. And this chick does have a really nice ass. They're like two cantaloupes hanging out next to each other. I love cantaloupes, especially that Filipino melon drink. Wow, her ass really does look like two cantaloupes. I should probably stop staring in case she turns around. Oh, what do I care. She blocked Sportscenter. The least she could do is let me stare at her ass until I'm finished on this Instrument of Hell. I like how it seems like I'm jammin' to some hip-hop song but really it's "I'm Blue" by Eiffel 65. If they only knew. Hey there's my fake Gym Boyfriend walking in. And he's not wearing a hat this time, oh good. I never get to see his face. He needs to lose the shell necklace though. Those are awful. Why do men wear those. It's not cute. How many minutes have I been on this thing, it must be at least 20... 5. Five??? Five freaking minutes??? This sucks. I hate the gym.
Inner Monologue at the "Body Sculpting" Class:
I didn't bring my very own what are those called... Yoga mat. Speaking of which, how does yoga even help tone anything, don't you just lay on a mat and breathe for awhile? Like those overweight movie stars that say they lost 60 lbs due to yoga. Rooooiiiiiiiighht. Hey, focus, focus! I don't have a mat. Okay they have ones you can borrow, eeew, let's not think about how many dirty people have sweated all over this thing after a long day at work. It's not like YOU just took a bath. You dirtball. Okay focus, we're about to begin "Body Sculpting." What are they going to sculpt me with anyway, a chisel? HA HA HA! Damn that joke was so stupid and yet I cracked myself up. Now people are looking at me, they think I'm "The Crazy Girl At The Gym." So what bitches, turn back around and keep watching yourself in the mirror and lifting weights. Do I have to do everything around here.
Well, that wasn't so bad. I kind of jammed through the first half. WOO-HOO what's next! I rock, I rock... oh fuck. The instructor wants us to grab the "Swedish Balls." Oh please let that mean some hot Stefan Edberg-y guy is standing around here naked. Or that someone just got take-out from IKEA. Please don't let it be that big bouncy ball of torture. Dammit, yes there it is. I hate these things. Okay for the first exercise we're going to balance on top of the ball and push our legs to the ceiling with our hips. What??? Why don't we start with something easier, like sitting on the ball and clapping our hands or something. Fuck. Five bucks say I fall off my ball first. Yes, I win. Another five bucks says I'm the only one in this class of smarmy people that does. Yes, I win again. I hate the gym.
Inner Monologue on the Nautilus Machines:
Let's start with my favorite machine, just because it gives me time to think about which one I'll use next. Remember, low weights high reps. That will tone me up without making me all bulgy. Like that woman. Oooh look, her and her friends are eyeballing how much weight I'm using. Hey! 30 lbs is respectable, low weights high reps you bitches. Then I won't look like you, all fucking Mrs. Schwarzeneggers. No wait, that's Maria Shriver and she's girly. Well, you know what I mean, you bulgy muscular freaks. Keep walking. Yeah, that's right, I'm straight. And what!!! Straight people go to the gym too you know. Damn, they left. Now what am I going to look at. Well lookee-here who just sat down at the pull-y thing in front of me. It's my hot fake Gym Boyfriend. Hoo-waaah, that is one nice body. Look at those arms. Perfection. Look at that back, beautiful. Look at... Oh no. Dammit, I knew it. His face is all messed up. Well there it is, proof that there is no God, or if there is one he's really mean. No benevolent God would put a face like that on a body like that. It's just cruel. Oh good, my reps are over. Time for a new machine.
Hey it's Useless Gym Girl! I'm so happy! Let's see, okay her boyfriend is telling her where he's going to be and what he's going to be doing. Will she be okay by herself? Will she? Will she? Yes! Apparently she will. And now she's going over to the knee side to side machine and putting it at the lowest weight. Side to side four times... wait where are you going? Must not have liked that machine, going to the butterfly one. Lowest weight... four times. Wait, she's getting up again. What's going on here. Oh my Lord she's going to use every single machine in here at the lowest weight four times and then leave. She really does live up to her name. She didn't touch the anal pron machine though. I don't blame her. Geo makes fun but I don't use the anal pron machine unless he's around. Someone might poke me. "No one will poke you Riss," Geo says. Yes, they just might. Because I'm on my hands and knees with my ass in the air and when I see people do that I feel like poking them. "If someone pokes you it will be me." Well then that's why I need you in front of me to make sure people don't poke me, and to make sure you don't poke me either.
Alrighty then, last machine. Okay I need to take my mind off how boring this is. So what does this thing do? Ahh, I am working out my trapezius and my rhomboids. Those lazy rhomboids! Think they can just sit around eating bon-bons on the couch and watching "Montel" all day. You have to stay on top of them or they don't do their jobs. And that trapezius, once I caught him drinking milk out of the gallon container just so he wouldn't have to wash a cup. Take this you lazy ass punk! And this! And this! And this! Okay, high reps suck. I hate the gym.
July 16, 2006
Inner Monologue On The Treadmill
Inner Monologue On The Treadmill
The following is an inexact transcript of the silent conversation I had with myself while on the treadmill this morning:
How do you work this thing again. Oh yeah, put the round magnet on that round magnet thing and hit start. Yes, it's moving. Let's crank this baby up a notch. Okay we're strolling, we're strolling. Let's get some good strolling music on. Here's some "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley. Good strolling song but Leah hates this song. Why does she hate this song? It has a good beat. Oh well. She's not here. What kind of name is Gnarls Barkley anyway, it's like naming yourself Bennis Rodman. Or Jakeem Olajuwon. Stupid. Hey that guy in the blue shorts looks like Brian Austen Green. That's what we'll call him then, Brian Austen Green. Hey Brian. How are you doing today Brian. Remember me from high school? You keep walking around the gym but you're not sweating or anything. Get on a treadmill you lazy bastard. That's why you're stuck doing stupid movies like Domino. Hey where are you going? I'm sorry I was mean. No I'm not. Lame ass Brian Austen Green.
The song's over. If you're alone and you need a friend... crap it's "Boom Boom Boom Boom." I can't stroll to this. I'm going to have to change the song or start strut sashaying. Okay, I'll strut sashay. If someone's behind me they're probably laughing because I look so stupid doing this. "Boom boom boom boom I want you in my room, let's spend the night together, together in my room." Dang. This girl just met the guy and she's already taking him back to her place. Isn't she worried he might be some crazy serial killer. Foolish girl. She thinks she's taking him back to her place to bump uglies but really he's going to chop her up and take her back to his place in a cooler. Also, there's AIDS. What if he has AIDS? People these days.
Hey there's Useless Gym Girl. What does her shirt say... "Your boyfriend thinks I'm hot." Yeah he does. Especially when he's peeing and it burns. Then he thinks "Damn, that bitch was hot." I wonder what workout she's going to do in canvas daisy dukes. Also, isn't that material highly conducive to chafing? Useless Gym Girl is too long of a name though. And UGG is unpleasant to say. We'll call her "Houseplant." That's what DJ Metronome calls the hot girl at his bar who can't bartend. Houseplant. Hahahaha holy fuck that's funny as hell. That guy is funny.
Alright next song, next song. Oh crap it's "Pump It." That means I have to sprint. We'll crank it up to... oh shit, too fast, too fast. Who do you think you are, Jackie Joyner Kersee. We're running, we're running. Damn this is a long song. How many seconds have passed. 13. 13 fucking seconds?? That's it?? Oh my God. This is the longest song in the history of the fucking world. Stupid Black Eyed Peas. Stupid Black Eyed Peas and their stupid long ass songs. Okay how many seconds has it been now. 28?? Fuck fuck fuck. You can do this. Don't die. Wow my heartbeat is going awfully fast. Is that safe? Or am I going to be like those people that snort coke for the first time and then die because their heart beats too fast. Like Regina Morrow in that Sweet Valley High book. That was so sad. She was so nice and smart and even had a modeling career going for her. And then what happens. She snorts coke at a party because her slut boyfriend Bruce Patman made out with slutty ass Amy Whats-Her-Face.
Okay we're going to have to go back to strut sashaying. I'm tired. Hey that guy is cute. Eeew, no he's not. I wonder if Geo is going to walk by anytime soon. He's hot.
*45 minutes later*
Okay 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes. Also, suck in your gut for the last 5 minutes. Work out those abs. What abs? Okay work towards those abs. Suck it in beeyatch!! Okay okay. I'm sucking, I'm sucking. Wait, that didn't come out right. How weird that these seconds are ticking by slower than normal seconds. The Normal Second to Treadmill Second ratio is like 3:1. Freaking treadmill time. Almost done. I wonder what Geo is doing. He's probably doing that crazy ab thing where he hangs on the bar and lifts his legs up. I should do that. Yeah right. I should go have a burrito is what I should fricken do. Or maybe some pizza. Yum. Or maybe some burritos and a pizza. That works. Okay we're finished. Thank God. And you're still alive. Remember to hang out for a moment on the treadmill so you don't get vertigo when you step off. I said remember to-- never mind.
The following is an inexact transcript of the silent conversation I had with myself while on the treadmill this morning:
How do you work this thing again. Oh yeah, put the round magnet on that round magnet thing and hit start. Yes, it's moving. Let's crank this baby up a notch. Okay we're strolling, we're strolling. Let's get some good strolling music on. Here's some "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley. Good strolling song but Leah hates this song. Why does she hate this song? It has a good beat. Oh well. She's not here. What kind of name is Gnarls Barkley anyway, it's like naming yourself Bennis Rodman. Or Jakeem Olajuwon. Stupid. Hey that guy in the blue shorts looks like Brian Austen Green. That's what we'll call him then, Brian Austen Green. Hey Brian. How are you doing today Brian. Remember me from high school? You keep walking around the gym but you're not sweating or anything. Get on a treadmill you lazy bastard. That's why you're stuck doing stupid movies like Domino. Hey where are you going? I'm sorry I was mean. No I'm not. Lame ass Brian Austen Green.
The song's over. If you're alone and you need a friend... crap it's "Boom Boom Boom Boom." I can't stroll to this. I'm going to have to change the song or start strut sashaying. Okay, I'll strut sashay. If someone's behind me they're probably laughing because I look so stupid doing this. "Boom boom boom boom I want you in my room, let's spend the night together, together in my room." Dang. This girl just met the guy and she's already taking him back to her place. Isn't she worried he might be some crazy serial killer. Foolish girl. She thinks she's taking him back to her place to bump uglies but really he's going to chop her up and take her back to his place in a cooler. Also, there's AIDS. What if he has AIDS? People these days.
Hey there's Useless Gym Girl. What does her shirt say... "Your boyfriend thinks I'm hot." Yeah he does. Especially when he's peeing and it burns. Then he thinks "Damn, that bitch was hot." I wonder what workout she's going to do in canvas daisy dukes. Also, isn't that material highly conducive to chafing? Useless Gym Girl is too long of a name though. And UGG is unpleasant to say. We'll call her "Houseplant." That's what DJ Metronome calls the hot girl at his bar who can't bartend. Houseplant. Hahahaha holy fuck that's funny as hell. That guy is funny.
Alright next song, next song. Oh crap it's "Pump It." That means I have to sprint. We'll crank it up to... oh shit, too fast, too fast. Who do you think you are, Jackie Joyner Kersee. We're running, we're running. Damn this is a long song. How many seconds have passed. 13. 13 fucking seconds?? That's it?? Oh my God. This is the longest song in the history of the fucking world. Stupid Black Eyed Peas. Stupid Black Eyed Peas and their stupid long ass songs. Okay how many seconds has it been now. 28?? Fuck fuck fuck. You can do this. Don't die. Wow my heartbeat is going awfully fast. Is that safe? Or am I going to be like those people that snort coke for the first time and then die because their heart beats too fast. Like Regina Morrow in that Sweet Valley High book. That was so sad. She was so nice and smart and even had a modeling career going for her. And then what happens. She snorts coke at a party because her slut boyfriend Bruce Patman made out with slutty ass Amy Whats-Her-Face.
Okay we're going to have to go back to strut sashaying. I'm tired. Hey that guy is cute. Eeew, no he's not. I wonder if Geo is going to walk by anytime soon. He's hot.
*45 minutes later*
Okay 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes. Also, suck in your gut for the last 5 minutes. Work out those abs. What abs? Okay work towards those abs. Suck it in beeyatch!! Okay okay. I'm sucking, I'm sucking. Wait, that didn't come out right. How weird that these seconds are ticking by slower than normal seconds. The Normal Second to Treadmill Second ratio is like 3:1. Freaking treadmill time. Almost done. I wonder what Geo is doing. He's probably doing that crazy ab thing where he hangs on the bar and lifts his legs up. I should do that. Yeah right. I should go have a burrito is what I should fricken do. Or maybe some pizza. Yum. Or maybe some burritos and a pizza. That works. Okay we're finished. Thank God. And you're still alive. Remember to hang out for a moment on the treadmill so you don't get vertigo when you step off. I said remember to-- never mind.
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