Now I have to go to the tanning bed EVERY DAY!!!
I started training with a personal trainer recently and, as it turns out, I’m actually in pretty tip-top shape (he didn’t believe me when I told him my fit test results, whatever. jealous). He is convinced that in the next year he will be able to get me into perfect physical shape, meaning I may have to quit blogging in order to pursue my bodybuilding career. I can see it now, my leathery skin gleaming in the spotlight, a mixture of sweat and lube reflecting the light back to the crowd. I turn to the right, point my toe, curl my left arm, and smile my white gleaming smile. I get extra points because I used all of Bean’s college fund on a super snazzy number, a beaded American flag get-up. The music (Salt ‘n Pepa’s ‘Push it’) begins and I manage to flex every muscle in my body WHILE DANCING! The show ends and I take my place on the stage next to my super buff peers. The winners are announced and I place third. I feel validated but yet, there is a hint of jealousy as I watch the judges struggle to place the medalion over 1st place’s 36 in neck. Today I am third but I will train harder, consume nothing but protein, spend all of my money on supplements and all of my days at the tanning bed so that next year I will reign supreme as the butchest woman IN AMERICAAAAAAAAA!
Seriously though, I told my trainer that I just want to look super smokin hot so that I can get a sugar daddy but I was tooootally (not) kidding because old rich guys so (do not) gross me out to the maxx. He thinks I’m crazy but he did say I make him laugh and I think my new weekday trainer assignment, James (can we say yummy), was a little “Thank You” from him to me.
Yeah, I can totally see you on stage flexing. Wait. That didn’t sound right. You know what I mean.