Last night the manager of my gym worked my kitten to a pulp. He's this beefy southern queen with a huge drawl and biceps to match. Despite the muscle mass, he's all woman! WEEEERK! He had me doing crazy exercises that made me want to vomit..had me panting, sweating, and on the verge of tears.
And I absolutely loved it.
Knowing that I'm pushing my body beyond its limitations really eggs me on. Especially when I can lift more weight than even a month ago. It's disgustingly body facist and self-absorbed, but it totally turns me on.
So why is it that I can't be like that with my career? Am I destined to become a huge meathead?!
Eh! Whatever, at least I'm not doing crack, people!
In other news, it looks like I'm going to be in Provincetown for a long weekend next month, and I really can't wait.
Gimme some East Coast flavor with quality beach time.
I'm going to see Trannyshack tomorrow night at some tranny-bar called Illusions.
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