Once Again I'm Reminded of Why I Absolutely HATE Working Out. It's too Bad it's Kind of a "Necessary Evil."
I started Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred today, and I already hate it. It kicked my lard ass and Jillian says "buddy" way too much but I want to have her body (not in a sexual way) so I'm going to do this hellacious workout for 20 minutes every day. Even Sunday, although I'm supposed to have a day of rest because God says so. I'm pretty sure God wouldn't want to cross Jillian cuz she'll totally cut a bitch if you keep her from kicking someone's ass in a sweaty, painful workout.
I almost died while doing the DVD this morning, which got me thinking about death. Again.
I have this theory that if there is an afterlife, it's totally what we make of it because in general, people are selfish assholes and creatures of comfort so what we enjoy in real life is probably what we'll need to have to enjoy the afterlife.
Therefore, logically, I have put in a request for my afterlife to be exactly like this:
When I die, I want my afterlife to contain a 24 hour all-you-can-eat buffet with bacon cheeseburgers and lasagna and a million other different kinds of pasta and breads and chips and salty french fries and steaks with loaded mashed potatoes (SHUT UP JILLIAN MICHAELS) and huge pots of thick chicken noodle soup and chili plus baskets of chips and salsa and queso dip next to platters and platters heaping full of fried mozzerella sticks and fried pickles alongside fried chicken and rare roast beef sandwiches. I could go on and on but honestly, I'm salivating like a friggin dog right now. The kicker is, in my Afterlife Buffet, you have to eat to stay skinny. If you stop gorging yourself with food for too long, you'll gain weight. How fucking awesome would that be you guys? Exactly.
So when I'm nice and full and fantastically skinny with flat abs thanks to that third plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and a ham steak with a side of pancakes, I'd then get to go lay on a huge fluffy bed full of pillows and drink lemon drop martinis in my snuggie while watching reruns of classic tv shows like the Golden Girls, Roseanne, Alf, The Cosby Show, Cheers, and Mama's Family. Because who didn't love Thelma Harper and her dopey son Vinton and slutty daughter-in-law Naomi? Plus it had Betty White so bonus. Right when I'm falling asleep in my comfy afterlife bed, David Beckham will show up with a bottle of wine and some cherry Twizzlers and the real fun will begin.
Of course my loved ones and friends will all be there in this afterlife too......
The moral of the story is, I hate working out but I'll do it because it'll likely kill me, sending me directly into my afterlife full of pigging out and licking chocolate off of David Beckham.
I almost died while doing the DVD this morning, which got me thinking about death. Again.
I have this theory that if there is an afterlife, it's totally what we make of it because in general, people are selfish assholes and creatures of comfort so what we enjoy in real life is probably what we'll need to have to enjoy the afterlife.
Therefore, logically, I have put in a request for my afterlife to be exactly like this:
When I die, I want my afterlife to contain a 24 hour all-you-can-eat buffet with bacon cheeseburgers and lasagna and a million other different kinds of pasta and breads and chips and salty french fries and steaks with loaded mashed potatoes (SHUT UP JILLIAN MICHAELS) and huge pots of thick chicken noodle soup and chili plus baskets of chips and salsa and queso dip next to platters and platters heaping full of fried mozzerella sticks and fried pickles alongside fried chicken and rare roast beef sandwiches. I could go on and on but honestly, I'm salivating like a friggin dog right now. The kicker is, in my Afterlife Buffet, you have to eat to stay skinny. If you stop gorging yourself with food for too long, you'll gain weight. How fucking awesome would that be you guys? Exactly.
So when I'm nice and full and fantastically skinny with flat abs thanks to that third plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and a ham steak with a side of pancakes, I'd then get to go lay on a huge fluffy bed full of pillows and drink lemon drop martinis in my snuggie while watching reruns of classic tv shows like the Golden Girls, Roseanne, Alf, The Cosby Show, Cheers, and Mama's Family. Because who didn't love Thelma Harper and her dopey son Vinton and slutty daughter-in-law Naomi? Plus it had Betty White so bonus. Right when I'm falling asleep in my comfy afterlife bed, David Beckham will show up with a bottle of wine and some cherry Twizzlers and the real fun will begin.
Of course my loved ones and friends will all be there in this afterlife too......
The moral of the story is, I hate working out but I'll do it because it'll likely kill me, sending me directly into my afterlife full of pigging out and licking chocolate off of David Beckham.
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| Trainer from Hell |
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| Mama. She'll make you a sammich. |
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| MMMMmmmm... welcome to heaven |
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