After the second Covid shutdown my gym sent an e-mail to all members announcing that they were not going to follow state restrictions thus, they were going to remain open during the lockdown. “Thank god”, I thought to myself. I’ve worked so hard on this marble stature, I couldn’t go back now. 12 hours later we as members received another e-mail notifying us that they were going to shut down until restrictions were lifted. Hey undisclosed gym, way to stick it to the man for 12 hours, good for you. After getting the e-mail I got in my car, fired her up and drove to the only place still in business. That’s right, the pot shop, the devil’s lettuce patch, the weed shop maaan. I said to the budtender (what a stupid fucking job title by the way), I would like to buy some joints. They asked, “would you like sativa, indica, or hybrid?” I replied,”yes”. I walked out that bitch with a bag full of sunshine and a hemp wick (it was buy one get one free or some shit) When I arrived back home I sparked up a J or a Jeffrey as I’ve heard the kids calling it. This made me high, really high, finally I was ready to do what I had been avoiding, set up a home gym.
Now for everyone out there that makes less than 110k a year you know that a “home gym” is just a designated area in your living space where you attempt to do pushups and sit-ups until you’re arms go numb or you shit your pants. Fortunately for me, years ago one of my roommates decided he was going to workout (lasted a week) and bought a bunch of dumbbells (none of which match) off the Facebook market place, as well as a rickety old bench that will one day be my cause of death. The only thing we needed now was a barbell, we found a suitable one on craigslist with an acceptable amount of rust. Two yoga mats later and an upright fan, we got a gym. A friend of mine came over to use the facilities and decided we needed some bands. “What the fuck is a band?” I of course replied. He informed me that it’s a resistance device that allows you to pull it in certain directions to activate small muscles used in strength training. I looked him square in his face and said, “fuck all that buddy, sounds a little gay”.
Two weeks later I’m in love with the bands. And I’m looking shredded. I start to discover muscles in my shoulders that I thought only existed on Hugh Jackman. I am the wolverine bitch and I’ve got bands to thank for that. Problem with bands is, they break. My idiot fuck friend forgot to warn me about the breakage. Picture this, I’ve got a band tied around the leg of an old piano that lives in the basement for some reason and I’m doing a shoulder workout. In between my starting point and my stopping point lies my balls. As I’m counting the reps in my head (1001, 1002, etc..) the god damn band snaps and quite rapidly acquaints itself with my testicles, the left testicle to be exact. We’re talking direct hit, absolute hands on knees pain. After recovering, I took one look around my band infested gym and thought to myself, “I knew these fucking things were going to take my man hood one way or the other.”
Since then, I’ve stuck to iron.