I am not a daredevil or Daredevil. When I get the question “what are you afraid of?” or any of its variations, I normally respond with “nothing, really”. It’s not a bullshit response either. I don’t really have a genuine fear of anything. Now, for example, if I’m walking down a path and a snake pops the fuck up, I’m going to fall back. I don’t consider that fear, that’s respect. Now, that’s not to say I’m completely fearless. I am scared of one thing: Being fat. I don’t mean having a small belly because that’s not fat in my opinion. Okay, it’s fat, but I’m referring to what happens when you let that belly fat spiral into other shit: obesity, wrecked knees, 5 steps causing you to wheeze, etc. That fear might be the biggest motivating factor in me joining the gym. In the event that I have children, I want to be able to run around with them, chase the little fuckers everywhere and toss them a couple feet across the room, because kids love being thrown for some reason. Is there a medical explanation for that? Focus. There is a man that works in my building who reminds me of Fat Man Scoop, but the fat version, not the not-so-fat-but-still-big variation that’s walking around now. I only ever see this cat in a white tee and I assume that’s because (1) its a bit of a task to find the style of clothes he may like in his size and/or (2) he’s lazy. Related sidebar, this guy always wears a Gucci scarf and sunglasses whenever I see him and that shit annoys the fuck out me. Compound that with his fatness and the “waddle” and you should understand why the sight of this guy enrages me and makes laugh, in intervals, not simultaneously. I caught my coworker this morning, letting mild grunts escape as he opened a jelly packet and put it on his sandwich. I’m trying to, what’s the saying, turn over a new leaf(?) and be more considerate and less of a dickhead, but I had to chuckle when he said he was tired after doing 10 push ups. Any man who can still have sex should be able to do more than 10 push ups without getting gassed, unless all they do is spoon fuck with the slow grind. And if that’s the case, just retire and get 2 twin beds in your sleeping quarters because your life is DONE SON. Blowing backs out is another factor in my quest towards improved fitness. Every man wants to crush the vagina and that’s kind of difficult to do when you can’t toss her around like a rag doll and your stamina level is low. How low iiisss iittt? It’s so low, George Bush’s approval rating felt bad for it. -crickets- It’s Friday, I’m saving my A-game for happy hour. Speaking of which, Ra Sushi has the best hh prices. $2 hot sake and $3 Budweisers coupled with $3 Nigiri, RIGHTEOUS.