WAAH!!!

If you here that monosylabic curt yet profound exclamation from me, it connotes an unpleasant surprise, such as realizing the pair of underwear I just put on came from the freezer just seconds prior. For me to put this into perspective, I'll back up to this last weekend on Saturday morning when I had just finished boning this sweet piece of Filipino boy pussy: To that end, I really wasn't sure if I wanted to attend the underwear party (I had already had Asian that day). So, I decided to play it by ear until the evening. But just when I was psyching myself up to head to the gym, then up to SF, I got a call from Trainer who wanted to "wish me a happy new year". Riiiiight. I opted to go to his place rather than the underwear party and ended up boning him in our usual style: Good, not great. After we were done, we lied on his bed chatting and eventually started talking about the gym and how I was trying to put on some weight, and his work as a trainer. He said he wasn't taking on as many clients to train since he is heavily working on his Bachelors in Physical Therapy. And here's the thing; he has gotten some very noticeable love-handles these days. I personally like a guy with some meat on the bones, but for a gym trainer, it must be detrimental to business. I noticed another trainer at my gym who used to be in incredible shape now has a large gut and love-handles as well. This is why I really don't trust most trainers, since my theory is most go into because they already have a naturally good physique. And when age sets in or their metabolism slows, they don't know what to do about it anymore than the average shmoe.

Which brings me to today; my second day of my incredibly lackluster job. I really don't like it. I know I'm sounding negative, but I can't find much about it that I like at all. I sincerely think the only thing that will get me through each day is remembering how much I just made in salary everytime I head home. I have no one to blame since I knew what I was getting into here. But I decided I needed to workout, since it had been a few days. When I got to my gym today-- WAAH! My first weekday back to the gym after New Years, meaning it was packed with everyone and their mother who had made the New Year's resolution to "get back in shape". Part of me says "good for them", but the other part says, "uh...you know you can talk on your cell-phone just as easily OFF the butterfly machine, right?" Luckily, 90% of these people will be gone by March, so I just need to wait it out. And as if to reasure me everything would be OK, as I was leaving I ran into the Greek kid there. We chatted for a bit and I told him how crowded it was now. He responded, "Yeah, I don't think we'll be able to do anything around here for awhile." I countered, "well, why don't you just come to my house again then?" He hesitated, then said, "my wife is expecting me..." then looked back up and said, "can we make it fast?" In other words, while Persephone was back at home stuffing Dolmades, I got to stuff this:

Yup, nice Greek bubble-butt.

Lastly, I got a couple calls from OL (my ex's ex down in LA). Apparently he tried to kill himself again by alcohol poisoning and was in the hospital for 4 days. He told me this evening and I just listened to him. What the fuck am I supposed to say? I barely know this guy. I feel like all I can say is "there there". I really do hope the best for him, but I'm not very optimistic. It's the 3rd time in as many months.

Anyway, I guess I'll wrap with the parting desire and hope that the work week gets better. Maybe I'm just mopey after having all that free time. Or maybe my job really does suck.