The Gym


Ha. They're running. Inside. Losers. Wait, you're supposed to do that?

I have some sad news for you all.  If you remember, I used to have a job as a male escort, under the stage name of Long Dong Silver.  However, due to “inappropriate behavior,” I was recently let go.  (How can you have been fired for being inappropriate?  You were a prostitute. Escort.  Please. There’s a difference.)  As I needed a paycheck to pay off the thousands of dollars that I took as loans to pay for my extensive collection of V-Neck sweaters, I was desperately seeking a new job.  And I found one.  As a male dancer.  (Why?  Have you no shame?  Get a normal job.)  In order for me to receive enough tips from the middle-aged, midwestern, obese women that I perform for, I need to have a finely toned body.  That is why I have decided to use the gym.  I plan on working out for four hours every day, every week, all twelve months of the year. Except for Kwanza, the weekends, Thursdays and the summer.  Screw it, I’m never going to go to the gym.  (Then you’ll end up looking like Long John Silver! Aha!  You know, like the fast-food chain that makes people fat… I understood.  It just wasn’t funny.  But we’re making progress.) However, I do have some extra “material” from my earlier jobs that I need to get rid of. Like my whips.  (Eww. What? I drove a carriage.  What were you thinking of? You’re the gross one.)

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About julian822

This blog is informal to say the least. It's almost like an online journal, filled with stories that I find funny, interesting things/links and anything else that comes to my mind. Enjoy.
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