DO DRY CLEANERS ACCEPT MAN SUITS?

Have you seen the new commercials for Dial soap for men? The tag line for the advertisement is something like, "care for your man suit." Or something like that. "Man suit" makes me laugh. My "man suit" is hairy. I don't know what has happened. I woke up one day and had hair growing out of my shoulders. My shoulders! That's just not right. I'm at the point where I refuse to take my shirt off...even at the beach.

I'm not sure if this is a bi-product of it BUT I sweat a hell of a lot more now too. Which is really embarrassing at the gym. I'm the sweaty guy (sigh). By the middle of my workout I look in the mirror and see that the back of my shirt is drenched...as are these two spots under each man boob. I think it's actually the bottom of my ribcage that sticks out a bit and collects the sweat but either way it makes it look like I have two little, tiny, lactating boobs under my regular man boobs. I hate it. Most of the people in the gym look nowhere near as sweaty as I do by the end of their workout. I look like I sat in a sauna for five hours...then jumped in a pool. Why can't I be the cool looking guy at the gym? You know, the guy that uses EVERY machine and doesn't sweat a drop. Yeah, he's also the guy with the sunglasses.

Two complaints about the gym:
1. Why are you talking on your cell phone as you run? Is it that important? Do you also talk to your friends between huffs as you're having sex? This annoys me beyond words.
2. Guys - please don't wear shorts so tight that you can see your junk pile. First off, it can't be comfortable and second off, no one really wants to see that. Do girls like that? I think it looks ridiculous, completely unnatural. And if you are this guy, please don't talk to me. It makes me uncomfortable. Just as uncomfortable as the naked guy that blow dries his entire body in the middle of the locker room.

Am I being a prude American? Probably. Sorry about that. Just a few gym comments for the day.

"HEY, THAT'S THE GUY..."

I'm going to share an embarrassing moment today, one of a slew I have had over the years.

I was at the gym trying my best to get buff. First off, let me say I was wearing my contacts. This is important because my contacts aren't the most comfortable thing for me to wear so if I am wearing them, it's usually because I want to be "dressed to impress." I wear my contacts to the gym. I suppose I hold out hope that I'm going to strike up a conversation with some super hot girl at my gym and hit it off. But how awkward is that? People don't talk at the gym, and if they did I certainly wouldn't be the type to pull it off, I just wouldn't feel comfortable approaching that situation.

So here I am running on the treadmill trying to look suave. Well, as suave as an over-sweating man can look on the treadmill. Each treadmill has a television screen in front of it and a remote control used to change the channels etc. The television is showing a commercial when I begin my run and I try the remote but it's not working. Oh well. I take a look around me and it's probably the first time since I've been working out at this gym that I am surrounded entirely by beautiful women. I couldn't believe it. So I was in a happy zone in my head when I looked back to the television screen which in no longer showing a commercial, but instead showing a report on breast augmentation. It was comparing nude breasts of different females that had undergone breast enhancement surgery. Again, I feverishly try to change the remote but no luck. So now I'm getting embarrassed because there is a lineup of hot women behind me waiting to use my treadmill and they can obviously spot this pervert watching booby-vision. Now I could have played it off (in my head at least) as if I was a doctor simply keeping up with my studies. But no, this wasn't even showing the surgery! It was only showing nude breast shots from AFTER the surgery. One after another for twenty minutes! I just wanted to shout out that the remote wasn't working - but I didn't want to attract anymore attention to myself at this point. Unbelievable. So I basically finished my run and walked, head down, to the locker room where I could escape the unapproving and disgusting looks of my workout peers. Now I'm forever going to be "that guy" at the gym. Ugh. I suppose, on the upside, I can start wearing my glasses there now...