in which God tortures our hero incessantly and our hero becomes a quivering blob of hormone jelly

[thehefner]

My mother is taking an exotic dancing class at the gym.

Now. Perhaps it should be said that this is not a class where anybody gets naked. It's just a class that practices the struts, the leg kicks, pelvic thrusts... you know, runway moves stuff. I said to my mother, "please god, please say you're not doing pole-dancing." To which she replied, "I dunno, we'll see."

"ARGH" is not word enough to describe this.

What makes this even worse is the fact that I really, really want to sit in on one of these classes. Not to take it, hell no. Although that might be fun. And certainly not to see the two other pudgy middle-aged women in the class strut their stuff (there were more, but people drop out of this class all of the time, which amuses me). No, the reason I would otherwise be in this class every single day is the instructor.






And if for some reason this doesn't show up, the link is http://www.muscletech.com/PROFILES/CAROLYN_EVANS/Carolyn_Evans_WallPaper2_800.html

Holy sweet mother of fuck. Now, I am not the sort of ogle. When Misty came up to me topless and drunk that first time I met her, I was the only one looking at her *eyes*. But with Carolyn, can you blame me? It was hard enough not to the first time I met her at the gym where she works as a personal trainer. Even baggy sweatpants cannot conceal the utter magnificence within. I mean, Jesus God, LOOK at her!



Mom saw that and said, "oh my god, that is the most perfectly shaped butt I have ever seen. A marvel of genetics, married with fitness."

According to her bio page, Carolyn's advice on fitness is this: "Goal setting is so important for someone who's looking to lose weight. If you do not have a goal and a deadline, you can just wander along from day to day. Another bad thing about not having a firm deadline is that you can always convince yourself that you can push your goal further back if you don't feel like doing something on a particular day." Well, ever since seeing Carolyn working out in nothing but sweatpants and a sportsbra, I now have my incentive to keep going back to my gym.

My mother, being the good mother that she was, tried to hook me up with a date with Carolyn. Carolyn said, "Oh yeah, he's the one who wears jeans to the gym all the time!" I hate sweatpants and I haven't worn shorts since I was twelve. Apparently everyone at the gym is so befuddled that I wear jeans, but I was just going to keep doing it until someone said something and since no one did, welp, I still do. I've been told I have sexy legs, but damn it, I just don't think anyone wants to see the legs of Pasty McGee, do you? Anyway, she said, "Oh, he's here all the time. He's so sweet!" We have talked a couple times, usually with her teasing me as people like to do, because I'm such a huge target for that.

So yeah, I suppose I shall have to settle for watching her from afar while I work out. Aside from my pudge, refusal to wear anything other than jeans to the gym, the description "sweet", and our eight-year age difference, I don't think Carolyn and I will be going out anytime soon.

It also probably doesn't help that she's probably seen me watch "Spongebob Squarepants" while I'm on the treadmill.




I go to bed now feeling slightly less of a man. But hopefully in the good way that makes for good stories. And I think I may invite her to King John.

Comments

[gnort.livejournal.com]

yeah I "borrowed" some icons from people for my own use..its somewhat parasitic but I mean it as a compliment really