Ask Your Doctor if Getting Off Your Ass is Right for You.

Surgeon's Warning:

When taking this prescription don't drive or operate heavy machinery.  Sweat, expended energy, and acute muscle pain may occur. Don't take this with persons more beastly than yourself as this may increases these behaviors. Allergic reactions such as shortness of breath, swelling of your tongue or throat, and an inability to stand up, sit down, lie down, raise your arms above your shoulders and move in general may occur and in most cases will be fatal. Side affects may include next day drowsiness, dizziness, headache, and lack of instantaneous gratification. In patients with depression, worsening of depression including suicide may occur. In fact, if you are suicidal, this prescription is highly advised by Dr. Kevorkian. If you experience any of these behaviors or reactions, you should probably give up while your ahead or at least contact your doctor immediately. Indubitably you will end up hurting yourself.



Basically exercise is futile. I have entered a bleak, grey dystopic land. All is lost. The alleged neon Gatorade glowey-sweat is a lie. A lie I tell you!! And of course you can't forget the fact that you VOLUNTARILY decided to engage in this ass-whooping. And yes, Jackie Chan, Bob Harper, Tony Horton and Richard Simmons are all laughing at your pathetic attempts. Yes, yes, today my boyfriend and I had this brilliant idea to do P90X. Granted, he's been doing it for the past three months now. And you know, because the whole running promise fell through for me, I decided that this popular exercise program might be an easy alternative. You know, jazzercise it up.

Fuck me.


Oh glory of running, I weep before you, asking you to take me back. I never knew how good I had it before I denied your beauty. I would rip my clothes and beat my chest as I castrate before you, but I'm afraid I can barely even type...and today was plyogenics. o__O I have never felt so much physical pain in my life before. Not when I threw my back out, or sprained my elbow, or got poison ivy the size of China (thick as an Amazon's thigh mind you, fucking painful shit) for the third straight summer, not ever. And of course, the fact that Tony Horton is in his forties, his demonstration buddy has only one real leg, my boyfriend could kick my ass after working out to exhaustion, and my sister is rolling on the floor in hysterics helps me oh-so-much. After 15 minutes I was literally sobbing because I couldn't move my thighs anymore. I couldn't feel my feet hit the ground and lifting my leg up felt like ten sumo-wrestlers decided to dry hump my femur. Needless to say it was awesome. The worst part was that I couldn't get my heart rate up because I literally couldn't move below the waist. Granted, by the end of the torturous hour from hell, even sliding my foot to the side had sweat exploding from my pores and my heart racing like a bullet train.



Squat dammit! As in put your ass to the grass!!!