guys - citrus made a few typos. here's the corrected version
Tonight, I strapped up my new Nike Power Gloves... went into my backyard ready to do some gardening ... tonight, however, I saw the geraniums in a different light ... frightened and skirrud, i ran off to the gym to do cardio.
After I did my preliminary warmup sets of flat db press with the 15s, I stood in front of the bench... the flatly-sewn hem of my pink umbros hugging close to my tidey whities... which is quietly leaking urine down my leg... unknown because I couldn't draw my eyes away from the sexy beast of a man doing cable crossovers... the two towers that represent his chiseled, tanned thighs... but i digress... the flat, horizontal board, covered in a black cushion awaits me... inviting me, drawing me towards it... so I go... but not before itching my balls for 5 minutes
I find myself staring at the linear steel bar loaded with a quarter plate on each side above my eyes... as I reach out for it... my eyes start watering... my throat acquires a throbbing lump... embracing my body for the sobbing fit it is about to unleash ... my mouth opens and closes on my thumb in anticipation... my umbros are soaked... i let out a final breath of air... as the bar raises off the supporting towers that again remind me of man thighs....
I lower the weight back onto the rack in a burst of power, will and guts the tears flow from my eyes like water from a busted fire hydrant... i am frightened... I then grab my widdle teddy bear from the floor beside the bench... sit up, turn around and see the 95 lbs of pure, iron weight on the rack...
I take the plates off the bar... knowing the Art of Defeat...
C-Poopies