"The Gerry"
This guy is really fucking old. He is at the gym at 5 every morning wearing his cotton shorts, thin white T, Velcro sneakers, and mid calf tube socks. He likes to walk on the treadmill with his tiny gym towel pumping his osteoporosis stricken arms. With each arm pump this guy does, I always wonder if it will be his last. I'm constantly thinking he is about to die. You never want to be on the treadmill next to him. It will make you anxious. "Oh Fuck! This is it, this is it, he's dying. He's dead. Oh my God he's dead!" Do I really have to utilize my CPR skills? Two words sir "DON'T DIE!" it's a vicious mind fuck. I can't handle the stress.
"Who wears short shorts? This fucking guy"
This character is out of control. He reminds me of a Richard Simmon-esque, circa 1980s enthusiast. Always sporting some random, oddly colored tank, super thick chesticle hairs, an overbearing neon sweat band, and the shortest fucking shorts ever! That shit is embarrassing. "Why are you prancing around the leg machines? This isn't fucking Never land." Did you steal those shorts from a Barbie collection? He is always smiling and ridiculously motivational to all the other gym goers. Is this guy for real? Seriously? No one is ever that fucking happy. "Please spare me your inspirational speech hot pants, I would rather pluck out my eyelashes." Also, you never want to walk in front of this freak show while he is on a stationary bike. Sadly I made this detrimental mistake about a month ago. As I stated earlier, his shorts are insanely short, he might as well be wearing loose panties. You could imagine the horror on my face when I glanced his direction as he pedaled along to his "Ace of Bass." There it was, a swinging pork sword! What the FUCK just happened to my eyes! Did I really just witness this act of unnatural human behavior? Fuck me! I need to go cry now.
"New Years Failure"
Generally the popular new years resolution for ridiculous morons is to lose weight. The first few weeks of January at the gym is a fucking nightmare. People who never work out come for a few weeks just to irritate the shit out of me. I swear its a conspiracy. The new years failure is usually an unhappy female. Typically I'm already pissed she even bothers to come. You are wasting your life, and my time. Get off the fucking treadmill! She always seems to grab the last treadmill available and proceeds to sloth at a pace of 1.0 for three or so minutes. Give me a fucking break! You just wasted a half mile run for me asshole! When she finishes burning .5 calories she walks over to pick up some 2.5lb dumbbells. and then puts them down. Don't strain yourself Hun, wouldn't want you to not be able to put a fork in your mouth. What a joke! I just pissed more calories than you burned. Get the fuck out of here! I do apologize that your adulterous husband forced you to be here, but you and I both know you would rather be at Ben and Jerry's basking in the ambiance of all the other fatties! Please go before I have a nervous breakdown.
"The Big D"
If you haven't guessed yet, this dip shit is a gigantic douche bag. Emphasis on the gigantic, and douche. . He walks around like a pompous idiot flashing a creepy grin. I never know why. You and I both know his package is nothing to smile about. I cant help but notice how often he stares at himself in the mirror. Pumping his chesties and kissing his biceps with each curl he does. "Is he fucking serious?" You look like a fool sir, and don't even get me started on that ridiculous crop top. His arms are so unnaturally large, it is impossible for him to walk like a normal human being. He trotts around like a fucking penguin. That shit is only acceptable for pregnant people. So Gross! I can't even use a weight machine after this butt hole. He douses his vein stricken body in the most obnoxious color of body bronzer leaving it all over everything he touches. I don't want my gym towel to be brown from this morons body residue. That is disgusting and unsanitary. God forbid im ever forced to conversate with this douche, I may stab myself with a pencil instead.
Needless to say these losers make me contemplate therapy. Am I crazy? Are these tards a figment of my imagination? To my dismay, they are real and ridiculous. The only exception is "The Gerry." Its not his fault he was born in the 1800s. Gerry just makes me anxious. Xanex please!
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