Dear Woman At The Gym,
You were on the elliptical machine next to me. We were both working up a storm. You were kinda panting with your mouth open. I get it, it was a tough work out. But please know that your machine wasn't that close to mine, and I could still smell your breath. N-A-S-T-Y !!! A little Listerine never killed anyone.
What the hell did you eat ? It smelled like rotted fish with a hint of fermented ass. Now I don't really know what fermented ass really smells like, but if I had to take a wild guess, I would say your piehole smells like asshole.
The girl next to you.
Dear lady on the treadmill talking on her cell phone...........
We were in a gym, not standing in line for lattes at Starbucks. I can understand a one minute conversation in the gym. But you spoke on your celly for 10 minutes talking about god knows what. I was trying to listen to my music, but I couldn't concentrate because you were louder. You were walking and talking.
FYI, it sounded like you were talking to a man, and that you two were barely getting to know each other. I suggest you put down that phone if you want to see more results, because I can tell that the treadmill wasn't doing much for you.
Either concentrate on the task at hand or yap someplace else. Or just hire a trainer.
Dear contractor at my job site,
I don't mind talking to you to pass the time, but you are starting to get on my nerves.
1.) On your truck, you have a license plate holder that says "No fat chicks". Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately ?????? What the hell ? If you were a woman, you would be one fat , hairy chick wearing a size fat-fuck.
2.) Please stop telling me about your sexual escapades. I am tired of hearing you trying to brag about all the chicks you banged and how they all liked it, and how they all just spread them for you. While we are at it, I am also tired of you telling me how your lady likes to get with other women and how she's always making out with other girls. You guys are just one big happy incestuous family. Please take the fondling lovenest stories somewhere else. Those images in my brain are just too much to bear. Not enough bleach in my house to get rid of those awful images.
I have some things to say to you:
-Women who scream like you say they are are are usually faking it.
-You keep telling me how you pick up chicks at bars, and how they want to go home with you. Lots and lots of chicks. The thing is, I know you are inflating the numbers a little. But I have also been paying attention to the details in each of your little escapades. You know what all these chicks have in common when you picked them up and banged them ? THEY WERE DRUNK. They were wearing beer goggles. You also never told me what happened the morning after. Did they wake up and run ? Did they say they'd call you after getting you out of the house but never did ?
- No I don't want to bang you.
- When I tell you that you are full of shit, and that no girls did such things with you, I say with with a laugh, like I am joking. But really, I am serious.
Okay, that is all for now. See you around next week.
The girl at work.