Spring, My Ass

What to say, what to say? It has been aaaaaaa LOOOOOOONNNNGGGGG fucking winter. It is "Spring Break". Yeah, my ass! I drove to work this morning and it was white out conditions on the highway. Is that any one's idea of Spring? Well in "The Great AK" it is. WTF!??


I have kept myself busy, mind you.

As you know we (SIDEKICK and I) joined the gym.

Now, in NO WAY is this anything like the open road. I don't get to feel the breeze, from the open road. NO, no, no, it is more like stale asbestos that falls from the ceiling of a rather old establishment. Exciting, but still not quite the same.

So to keep myself in shape, I take a class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Not just any class mind you, this class kicks my sweet ass.

And YES, it is still sweet from all of that summer biking! Any whoo, this class is great. For making you wish you would die before it was over, just so you would not have to finish it!

The name of this great class is "Sweat Shop with Andre". And really, I think that about sums it up. No lies in that title.

Well, Andre is a very buff, man of color. AKA: He is black (said in a whisper) Which gives him the advantage of ...... Rhythm .
I know, I know , imagine that.

That being said, his class is filled with all 30, 40, something women, Oh and also (said in a whisper)......one gay guy. Not very many of them have any moves! And, did I mention that this is a dance aerobics class with a whole lot of wanting to die mixed in???

A couple of these gals have been at it for a few years, so they do have a little rhythm,.... Now! After years!!!! While most of us don't got what we need.

One gal, while fit and somewhat rhythm gifted, can bust a move, and works it to the fullest, but this poor gal has the worst case of Flying Squirrel Arms this side of the Mississippi. Another gal thinks she's got moves coming from the gods. But, Oh My God! Wow, I get scared when I have to work out next to her. Then, of course, the only (whisper) black gal, has got moves that would make Janet Jackson take notice.

Either way, I am not sure what the heck goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays,but man do I get a bad case of the, need to farts. (While that is all fine and dandy, I prefer not to do it in public places.) My biggest fear is that while the music is mellow,and we are working on our abs one of those little bubbles is gonna come down the shoot, and despite my attempts at holding it in, will escape. Making for a loud and embarrassing scene.

But, by far the worst part about this class is, the need for a sports bra. These damn contraptions, are made by a man. (I'm sure of it!) My size D's, were not meant to be held up by small straps that are anchored at the base of my neck and shoulders.
These fucking things have to be put on over the head, and to get the girls in them, you have to have had contortionist classes.

First smash them, then, lift and puuuuullllllll them into place. Repeat other tit.

Once in this god damn thing, you can move and shake, and the girls just bounce along. Less than if you did not wear one, but still not enough. Sorta like putting your titties on a shelf and then jogging.



Gals with boobs larger than a B are not meant to run!!!

All of this aside, there is nothing I would like more now, than a good long ride. Rain or Shine!