Done Gone Retarded Again

"Down by the Riverside, it's bound to be a better ride than what you've got planned."

-"Hazy Shade Of Winter" by The Bangles

Cake. White chocolate cake is a weakness of mine, especially if it's freshly made and sitting in the middle of the kitchen table after I get home from the gym. "Ah fuck it, have a piece!" is what my mind kept telling me after another nasty session spent in the gym. Of course, I did. I also ended up feeling a little bloated the rest of the night. That piece of cake was huge, yo.

One thing I keep forgetting is that I have a new boss (sorta). This began on Monday and I'm not sure what to think of him. My problem has to do with not trusting really nice people. You know the type. They just seem too good to be true. Smile? Check. Shake hands with firm handshake? Check. Pats on the back? Yup, and this is so good that I wouldn't give a cold eye if it was on my nice firm buttocks. I'm just so used to the nasty side of people, namely zombies wanting to kiss the boss's ass in retail.

My other boss, on the other hand, continues to look like I'm going to beat him up and then laughs about it. What I enjoy doing is telling him in the words of the almighty New Kids On the Block, to 'hang tough.' Believe me. It puts a smile on all those that lived in the 90's. Cuz you know it aint over til the fat lady sings.

As of right now, Sara and I have been planning this year's vacations. It's inevitable because she has to fight her workplace in order to receive her time off. I, on the other hand, go when I want pretty much. Our destination is going to be another attempt at Chicago because it was too cold/chilly for a visit this year. Then, on my birthday, a bunch of us are going to Atlanta just like we did those other two times. Smelly is how we ended up. Boys get out in the parking lot and apply cologne while the girls get topless and change shirts. I saw 4 tits that day!

Esquire Magazine had a question about what to talk about with a girl you fucked for the first time. Weird how easy this is. Proper etiquette according to moi is to raise your hand real high and ask for a high-five. Cuddling is so overrated. The new type of woman wants to be handled like her body is a sports arena.

I'm kidding. Though, I'm pretty sure I did that at one time as a joke. Not sure how that went because I still cannot remember some of the names of the girls I slept with.

If you must know how I feel, I am so very sore. Work and working out really takes their toll on me each night. Plus, it's Sunday where I started going back to the gym night after night. 3 days in a row and I feel like I've just started working out again. The bathtub to lay in hot water is how I spend my early evenings, almost like I'm playing football again. Oh, the main source of pain is right where the shoulders meet the pectoralis muscle. Put your arms straight out and clap. That's hard for me to do right now.

It's funny, the feelings I get from gathering myself up again to attack the gym like I once did. Weeks before, it was all about going and then spending the night doing just push-ups and reverse sit-ups at home. The Holidays made me cranky with too much energy wasted screaming at the number of idiots driving around shopping for gifts. By the time I got home, all I really wanted to do was soak or curl up in a ball. I may have more energy now but I'm feeling like I'm a virgin trying to figure out what to do with his fingers on a first date that ended up on her couch. Oh, and I'm naked, too.

Seen these new David Beckham Armani underwear ads? Fascinating because I never knew he had abs like that. Not that they're bad. It's just that this is a major 6-pack that you only see on the most insane gymnasts. Sara loves Mr. Beckham. I'll admit to a slight man-crush on David because I love how quietly strong he is. Nice taste in style, too. Awful in the wives category.

When I read that women swoon more over their husbands' doing the dishes, I got confused. What happened to the wet panties caused by abdominals or protective chest? I know not all women love muscles but my girlfriends sure were obsessed with them. Of course, the needs change and then come back. The first few years of marriage will be a bit of fun. I can think of a lot of older gals that suddenly feel that need to be mounted and penetrated by the manhood of a young buck with 6-pack abs when taking sight of the mess left behind by the husband obsessed with Doritos. We are a weird species. Men get love handles and guts. Women get shelves on their crotches. It's no wonder we need Viagra, Cialis, and a paper bag.

So, I'm outta here as I type on this chilly night. Boredom. Confusion. An idiot knows not these things. Well, I consider myself 'mildly-retarded' and I have conquered these things. The only things that can save me are sex, cuddling, and the ability not to be pulled into the white chocolate cake tractor beam. Happy twats all around.