1. I’m really out of shape. Doing 10 push-ups felt like the time at a party when this big gal passed out drunk on top of me and I could push her off.
2. I hate the gym. It’s full of idiots, asshole and all around shitty people.
These are open letters that I wrote to all the assholes at my gym. I figured I’d post them here so that you can copy and paste the particular letter you want/need, print it out and slip it into the locker of the offending asshole (just don’t be a fucking idiot and sign it).
Dear old man that likes to sit on the bench naked and read books for 3 fucking hours,
PUT SOME FUCKING CLOTHES ON.
Nobody wants to see your disgusting old balls. They aren’t even that impressive. They look like those splat toys I see at the mall kiosk. I almost wish you had a bigger penis so it would cover those horrible orbs of disgust.
You know what else would be great? If you could at least sit on a fucking towel. Other people have to sit there too you know, and nobody wants to sit in the birds nest of pubes left behind by your shedding balls (and ass).
Do you even work out? Seriously, I have NEVER seen you actually in the gym area. It’s like you pay $99 a month to have a place to go to force strange men watch you sit bare ass naked reading books.
Please considering giving up on life.
Dear fat guys that used to be strong,
Look we get it, at one point in your life you were really strong. Heck you probably played on the football team in high school or junior college – offensive line if I had to guess.
Those were the good ol’ days but let’s be honest you’re not strong anymore, just fat. Ok, you might be “kinda” strong, but still fat nonetheless less.
My point is, please stop flexing, bowing-up and posing like you are all muscles.
I don’t know if you know this or not, but you can’t flex fat. What you’re doing is about the same as when you stand there before you “lift”, stretching and shaking your arms vigorously. You can’t pull fat, so just get on the fucking bench and rep it out.
Dear my fellow chubby folk,
I get it, like you I’m a ‘tweener. Not in shape, but not fat like former football guy that loves Whataburger and shakes way more than cardio and weights. We’re not cool, probably never will be, so I say this with nothing but love in my heart:
You look like a fucking idiot when you go “no hands” on the elliptical.
You know how when little kids first learn to ride their bike with no hands and they only do it when they know you are watching; isn’t that awkward?
Well that’s what you remind me of, except I have a little respect for the kids skills, and none for yours.
And while we’re at it, yes you look like a fucking idiot going backwards too (hands or no hands). The only real difference is that you look like a fucking idiot doing a shitty moonwalk.
Dear gym manager in charge of activities and equipment,
Ping ping is NOT a work out. Please have that table removed from the gym ASAP. You are giving the 2 nerdy fat dorks that play it a false sense of accomplishment.
And no, I don’t give a shit how much they are sweating when they’re done with their “match”, it’s not a workout. Besides, have you seen how big they are? They sweat just putting on their gym clothes.
Telling fat people that ping-pong is “good cardio” is like telling me getting lettuce on my burger “makes it a salad”.
In fact, if you’re gonna keep the ‘pong table, then you might as well get a buffet with nothing but hamburgers for the gym (with lettuce as a topping option, of course) and call it a salad bar.
I demand you stop this campaign of foolishness and disinformation at once.
Dear super fit girl,
I don’t know how to say this without sounding a bit rude, so here goes:
Fuck you and your camera you arrogant, self-absorbed, whore.
This is a gym, not glamour shots. Yeah, we get it, you have a nice body, whoopti-fucking-do*.
Now why don’t you hit the face machine and do 3 sets of 12 and try to get pretty, because right now it looks like somebody beat you in your man face (#StrongJaw) with track shoes.
* (note: wasn’t really sure if that word should be hyphinated or not, so fuck you and your grammar & spelling)
Dear really big muscles guy,
Your unwarranted grunting is pathetic. I get it, sometimes you have a lot of weight that is hard to lift. It happens to all of us, you don’t have to be all ‘roided out to lift more than you can handle.
To be fair, most of us “regular” folk aren’t like you. We don’t crave attention. We don’t feel like we need to put on a show to impress total strangers that are only going to clown us and talk shit about us to their friends because we are fucking asshole losers with way more muscles than social ability.
I’m being honest when I say this: I hope that one day you try to lift too much weight and a testicle shoots out from your shorts.
With any luck, you’ll bleed to death.
Dear excessive throat clearing guy in the shower,
SHUT THE FUCK UP.
I know you probably need to get that hairball out you stupid piece of shit, but could you maybe give up after the first 7-10 minutes?
My wife has 2 cats and I have to listen to them gag and hack several times a week, so I damn sure don’t want to have to listen to you do the same while I’m taking a shower.
Here’s a tip on how to resolve your issue: go to a stall, put your head inside the toilet, lower your mouth and nose below the water line, hold your breath until you drowned, asshole.
Dear Meat Gazer,
I don’t know if you think you’re being sneaky when you are stealing glances of my package, but you’re not.
And let’s go ahead and address the elephant in the room:
I’m sure you are “totally hetero” and all, but I’m really finding that hard to believe, what with you continuously “sneaking” peeks at my junk (I used quotes around “sneaking” because you are being anything but sneaky).
See, I have eyes too and if I have to acknowledge another dude at the gym in the locker room when we are both naked (and it happens from time to time, no big deal) – I find it best to look them in the eyeballs (“eye” being the key word you seem to be forgetting when it comes to this).
I don’t really want to know WHY you are doing it. I just want you to know that it’s not OK, ever.
Please stop looking at my dick, or at least give me a card and some candy next Valentine’s Day for my trouble.
This is the part where I would tell you to eat a dick, but I have a hunch you wouldn’t take it as it was meant.