Personal Training Joke-star If You Like!?
Dear Diary
For my fortieth birthday this year, my husband (the dear) purchased a
week of personal training at the local gym for me. Although I am still
in great shape since my track and field days some 25 years ago, I
decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
I called the gym and made my reservations with a personal trainer named
Damon, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and
model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My husband seemed pleased
with my enthusiasm to get started!
The gym encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
Monday:
Started my day at 6:00 am. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was
well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Damon waiting
for me. He is something of a Greek god – with blond hair, seductive eyes
and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Damon gave me a tour and showed me
the machines. He took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill and
was alarmed that it was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to
him in his gym top and bulging shorts. I enjoyed watching the skillful
way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today.
Very inspiring. Damon was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my
gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around.
This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
Tuesday:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.
Damon made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then
he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but
I made the full mile. Damon’s rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I
feel GREAT!! It’s a whole new life for me.
Wednesday:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by lying the toothbrush on the
counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a
hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to
steer or stop. I ran over the gym manager in the parking lot. Damon was
impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club
members. His voice is a little too perky for this early in the morning
and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My
chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so he put me on the “Stair
Monster”. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an
activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Damon told me it would help me
get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other **** too.
Thursday:
Damon was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his
thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn’t help being
a half an hour late; it took me that long to tie my shoes. Damon took me
to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in
the women’s change room. He sent Cheryl to find me, then, as punishment,
put me on the rowing machine — which I sank.
Friday:
I hate that bastard Damon more than any human being has ever hated any
other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, masochistic
gym-jock. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable
pain, I would beat him with it. He wanted me to work on my triceps. I
don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t
hand me the fricken barbells or anything that weighs more than a
sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned in the sadist school you attended
and graduated magna *** laude from.) The treadmill flung me off and I
landed on the nutrition advisor. Why couldn’t it have been someone big
and soft, like an ice-cream salesman or a fireman?
Saturday:
Damon left a message on my answering machine in his grating, whining
voice, wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing him made me
want to smash the machine with my rolling pin. However, I lacked the
strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight
hours of the Weather Channel.
Sunday:
I’m having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and
thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my
husband (the bastard) will choose a gift for me that is fun -like a root
canal or a pap smear.
That rocked my morning. I can now go to work with a good sense of humor.
you got my stars dear….
That was sooo funny!!! Here’s one for you:
A young man wanted to purchase a gift for his new sweetheart’s birthday and as they had not been dating very long, after careful consideration, he decided a pair of gloves would strike the right note: romantic but not too personal. Accompanied by his sweetheart’s younger sister, he went to Nordstrom’s and bought a pair of white gloves. The sister purchased a pair of panties for herself. During the wrapping, the clerk mixed up the items and the sister got the gloves and the sweetheart got the panties. Without checking the contents, the young man sealed the package and sent it to his sweetheart with the following note:
“I chose these because I noticed that you are not in the habit of wearing any when we go out in the evening. If it had not been for your sister, I would have chosen the long ones with the buttons but she wears short ones that are easier to remove. These are a delicate shade, but the lady I bought them from showed me the pair she had been wearing for the past three weeks and they are hardly soiled. I had her try yours on for me and she looked really smart. I wish I were there to put them on for you the first time as no doubt other hands will come in contact with them before I have a chance to see you again. When you take them off, remember to blow in them before putting them away as they will naturally be a little damp from wearing. Just think how many times I will kiss them during the coming year!
All my love.
P.S. The latest style is to wear them folded down with a little fur showing.”