Boy, I will be your sexy silk.

I have great respect for the gym. I just joined a gym, hrmmmm, three-ish weeks ago. Just ‘Anytime Fitness’ nothing super swank or whatever. I love it. I have lost a few pounds already, and I know I am getting buff because I have my iPod on my arm, and I had to loosen the band because it has gotten a little too tight. Which is good, because in Wyoming the wranglers told me I have frog arms. 

Oh God! Wrong picture wrong picture, sorry....

Okay, that's better. Yeah, so as you can see, 'Frog Arms' is probably not a compliment. 

The gym is my haven. My favorite is when the boxing instructor is there because I love to punch stuff, I discover. I also love to check out sweaty guys over at the weights station. (Weights station? I’m sure that’s not the right name. Stations are what we rotated around in Kindergarten.) Don’t worry! I am super sneaky and ogle them by looking in the mirror.  Besides, they’re totally doing the same thing to me, so phooey! I’ll ogle sweaty dudes all I please, thank you. 

Oh dear.

Wow. I started that paragraph with the intention of saying something deep and meaningful. That was super successful.

While I’m on the subject of sweat, however…… some sweaty guys are, shall we say, less desirable than others.

This article is really not going according to plan. I’m trying hard to tell you about the plaque I saw in the gym that said “Happyness is not a destination. It is a way of life.” (Yes, it’s actually ‘happiness’, not ‘happyness’, but I like it better that way)  And I was kinda hit by that. It true. You can be knocked off your feet by a freight train that came out of F*$%ING NOWHERE, but as soon as the feeling returns to your limbs, get up and RUN LIKE HELL. Be happy and don't let anyone try to stop you. So, that’s what I really wanted to say. We can now return to being shallow.

I am actually all gross and sweaty from the gym myself right now, so ima go take a shower. Peace.

I'll leave you with that image. You're welcome.