The Gym

The gym is very much like my uncle's basement; you're constantly afraid and you leave sore and sweaty after every visit. Remember that earlier post where I was prompted (nay, FORCED) to go to the gym due to my insatiable munchies? What? You don't read this blog so you wouldn't know? Well yeah, I went to the gym that next day and felt great afterward. The next day with my friends for what was I thought was going to be a normal workout until we were approached by what seemed to be a decaying corpse and given work-out advice. And damn did that corpse work us. His routine had us work every single muscle in our body. Every. Single. Muscle. I feel like a care hit me. Except that care is from Twisted Metal. And it's on fire (but since it's from that universe it probably is on fire). If I can keep this up I can see good things happening in my future. My six-pack ab, rap music video filled future. There's also bitches. Did I mention the bitches? Bitches. Respectable young women. And bitches.

This is almost a high rambling since I woke up still high from last night. Class was murder. The parts of it that I was conscience for, at least.

Mad commas, right?

Big...
Black...
BATMAN!

NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA BATMAAAAAAAN!

And Shaft. Can ya dig it?