The Locker Room, The Old Man And His Old Man Balls!

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So I would like to consider myself a  “GymRat”… “Meathead”… “Lunk” call me what you want, because it matters little what you think, because you are you and well, I’m me!

Anyways, I have to admit there is one thing I dislike about going to the gym, and it’s not really the gym’s fault, it happens to be the old guys in the changing rooms fault.  I’m curious as to why men, when they reach a certain advanced age, seem to have no modesty whatsoever.

When I go into the changing room there are usually two or three old shriveled up men walking around buck naked, they are having nice, long conversations with each other while their shriveled up junk just hangs there, got to admit it freaks me out.  But there is one old fella in particular that seems to really disturb me.  I’m beginning to think he has Alzheimer’s or something, perhaps he thinks he is in a Nudist Colony or a San Francisco Bath House, but the weird thing is that he always seems to get really close to me while I’m in there and yesterday I think things went a ball sack too far. I was seated on the bench and he shuffled over to my bench and lifted one leg up onto the bench to dry himself off with a towel, and there in all its old, wrinkled glory was his junk and his freakishly large ball sack…I nearly threw up.

So in response to this incident I want to write this story from this old guy’s perspective, or at least what I imagine he must have been thinking when he dropped his big sack next to me.

The Old Dude….Well hey there my young friend, today is your lucky day. I want you to treasure this moment, because you are about to gaze upon my very special old man balls.

And I think you are going to absolutely love them.

Now I realize you probably see a lot of old man balls here in this changing room, but let me tell ya sonny, most of those balls are, to put it kindly, sub-standard. My glorious balls, however, are beautiful. They are perfect in every way, from the sheen of my old scrotal sac to the flawless shape and symmetry of the testicles all the way up to my luscious grey pubic hair.

Young man, let me assure you that I go to great lengths before I arrive at the gym to make sure my balls are in excellent viewing condition. First and foremost the nursing home I live at maintains my hygiene, I get sponge baths twice a day. And not any soap will do, if the detergent is too harsh it can cause unsightly scratching and mar the surface of the balls. So I worked it out with the nursing home that they use an Old Spice body wash, which always leave’s my balls smelling fresh and makes my grey pubes look 40 years younger.

Getting my balls clean and soft is only half of it. I used to apply makeup to them, but the effect was far too artificial and to me the whole idea behind showing your balls off in the first place is to showcase their natural beauty, and I like to put the emphasis on the “Natural.”  So now I use an all- organic bee’s wax to give them a rich, deep luster. I usually do two coats, but today I went with three. When you get down to it, there’s just no substitute for bearing down on your balls with some good old fashioned elbow grease. I usually do it as I watch the morning news.

So believe me young man when I tell you, that this magic moment that you and I are sharing together, this very moment when you first took in the glory of my balls, you will remember this day for the rest of your life. And I really hope since you keep coming here every morning, that you will continue to see my magnificent balls many more times in the coming year. But it will never be as special as this moment.

Now back to Me.…Dear God, please kill me now!!

Why You So Boring?

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Yes, I’m the first to admit it….I’m boring!  I’ve heard it numerous times from so many people. I even heard it yesterday, after I turned down an offer to go hang out at a bar…Really?  In this small town with little to do especially during the winter or as I call the  “Frozen Hell of Discontent” everyone seems to go out drinking and I, the Boring one, just find myself alone with my cat.

For excitement I like to read the morning Police reports looking for how many people that I know who got a DUI the night before…always an interesting read.  Anyways back to being Boring.  I eat the same semi-healthy meals daily which is Boring… I go to the gym everyday doing the same squats, curls, and bench presses which is Boring…I do the treadmill for 20 min every morning which is Boring…I go to bed early and get up early which is Boring…I say No to sweets, always declining deserts, and I skip the occasional piece candy which I’m offered which of course is Boring…I do the same thing, day in and day out, for months and months which of course is Boring.

Let’s face it being into fitness and a healthy lifestyle is boring, it’s about routine.  I am always seeing the new ads from companies that are trying to promote the new best thing. Or fitness guru’s pushing the exciting new exercise that’s going to make you huge.

I guess people who have a hard time with routines and being Boring like all these flashy new things, they get excited for the new running shoes that promises to make you float above ground…or the amazing new diet that literally makes fat fall off you faster than a strippers clothes on a Saturday night…And for these people that love all these exciting new things they get to stay unhealthy while they chase the next new fad.

Boring does not sell magazine subscriptions, advertisements, or DVDs.  Boring is silent, unwavering progress…Boring is sticking to the same routine week after week, month after month…Boring means not freaking out when your stepping on the scale and the number is slightly off…Boring means making small repeated improvements to an otherwise un-moving and determined schedule…Boring is replacing grand declarations of drastic change with tiny habit changes over a long Boring period of time.

So you can make fun of me for being Boring as you go about your busy fun filled lives and that’s okay because I have found out the benefits of being Boring.

Boring leads to weight loss…Boring leads to strength and power…Boring leads to increased productivity…Boring leads to success and habit change that actually works…Sometimes, Boring can be fucking Awesome and this is one of those times.

Perhaps YOU should go be Boring!!

An Open Letter To My Missing Wrist Straps…They Were In My Gym Bag, But Now They Are Not!

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Dear Wrist Straps That Are Not In My Gym Bag,

Alright, I really have had it this time. Wrist Straps That Are Not In My Gym Bag…we need to talk! Why has this happened yet again? We have gone through this several times now, I honestly thought things would change due to the heated exchange we had last time this happened. I really thought you were going to start being more responsible? Do you have any idea how it makes me feel when I get to the gym, get myself dressed for action and then I find out my straps are missing? It’s pretty damn embarrassing. Everyone else has their straps, except for me…I look like a goddamn tourist!…A New Years Resolutioner here today, gone tomorrow. Other lifters look at my bare wrists and laugh at me, and it’s all because you aren’t responsible enough to show up.

And don’t even try to turn this around on me. How dare you tell me I am forgetful! That’s bullshit, and you know it. I always put you back in my gym bag, always! Let’s see everyone else always seems to be in the gym bag…Ear buds, Lock, Extra Tank Top, Headband…But not the Wrist Straps, no the wrist straps somehow couldn’t make it to the gym today. Where were you? What was more important than showing up to the gym today? Tell me!!

I remember when I first saw you in the store, you were new, full of promise. You came into my life at an important juncture, I was adding heavier and heavier weight at the gym, I was going full Beast Mode in the gym and you were there to help me. At first everything was great, we were a team, we were working hand and wrist, and nothing could stop us. But like any team, it’s only as strong as its weakest member. Guess what, that weakest member is you!

Well in the three weeks that we have been together, ever since that day I brought you home from Bob’s Sporting Goods with so much hope for future big lifts it’s just been a downward spiral of disappointment. I really thought we had something special, something different, I guess I was wrong.

Wrist Straps you are dead to me….

Your Former Swole Mate

The Old Man Balls…His Perspective

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So I consider myself a Gymrat, a Meathead, a Lunk, call me what you want, because it matters little what you think, because you are you and well, I’m me.  Anyways, I have to admit there is one thing I dislike about going to the gym, and it’s not really the gym’s fault, it happens to be the old guys in the changing rooms fault.  I’m curious as to why men, when they reach a certain advanced age, seem to have no modesty whatsoever.

When I go into the changing room there are usually two or three shriveled up, old men walking around buck naked, and they are having nice, long conversations with each other while their shriveled up junk just hangs there, got to admit it freaks me out.  But there is one old fella in particular that seems to really disturb me.  I’m beginning to think he has Alzheimer’s or something, perhaps he thinks he is in a Nudist Colony or a San Francisco Bath House, but the weird thing is that he always seems to get really close to me while I’m in there and  today I think things went a ball sack too far. I was seated on the bench and he shuffled over to my area  and lifted one leg up onto the bench to dry himself off with a towel, and there in all its old, wrinkled glory was his junk and his freakishly large ball sack…I nearly threw up.

So as a way for me to properly process this incident,  I want to write this story from the old guy’s perspective, or at least what I imagine he must have been thinking when he dropped his big sack next to me.

The Old Dude….Well hey there my young friend, today is your lucky day. I want you to treasure this moment, because you are about to gaze upon my very special old man balls. And I think you are going to absolutely love them.

Now I realize you probably see a lot of old man balls here in this changing room, but let me tell ya sonny, most of those balls are, to put it kindly, sub-standard. My glorious balls, however, are beautiful. They are perfect in every way, from the sheen of my old scrotal sac to the flawless shape and symmetry of the testicles all the way up to my luscious grey pubic hair.

Young man, let me assure you that I go to great lengths before I arrive at the gym to make sure my balls are in excellent viewing condition. First and foremost, the nursing home I live at maintains my hygiene, I get sponge baths twice a day. And not any soap will do, if the detergent is too harsh it can cause unsightly scratching and mar the surface of the balls. So I worked it out with the nursing home that they use an Old Spice  body wash, which always leave’s my balls smelling fresh and makes my grey pubes look 40 years younger.

Getting my balls clean and soft is only half of it. I used to apply makeup to them, but the effect was far too artificial and to me the whole idea behind showing your balls off in the first place is to showcase their natural beauty, and I like to put the emphasis on the “Natural”. So now I use an all-organic carnauba wax to give them a rich, deep luster. I usually do two coats, but today I went with three. When you get down to it, there’s just no substitute for bearing down on your balls with some good old fashioned elbow grease. I usually do it as I watch the morning news.

So believe me young man when I tell you, that this magic moment that you and I are sharing together, this very moment when you first took in the glory of my balls, you will remember this day for the rest of your life. And I really hope since you keep coming here every morning, that you will continue to see my magnificent balls many more times in the coming year. But it will never be as special as this moment.

Now back to Me.…Dear God, please kill me now!!