Working out at the office gym. I was doing some rows. Going heavy on the back work, as is my wont.
So I am pulling a large unwieldy amount of weight back on a cable. And then an ass appears in my peripheral vision. Right in my fucking face. And I kind of freaked out and jerked to the side, causing my spine to bear some two hundred pounds at an awkward angle.
The ass was that of Rob Lowe, bent over tying his shoe. He looks fantastic.
From 2005:
I saw Busta Rhymes in the gym. He was with a whole crew. They stopped the regular gym music and put on… a fucking Busta Rhymes record, the one where he says “If you really wanna party with me/ Put your hands where my eyes can see.” The entourage was rocking out to it, and Busta started repeating the lyrics to them in weird primitive English, like: “it say: ‘put yo’ hands where my eyes can see!’” But speaking, not rapping. And they would laugh uproariously for some reason.
That’s how I want to travel someday- with a cadre of jewel-encrusted black men the size of tyrannosaurs, who laugh whenever I speak like it was the funniest fucking thing they ever heard.
So I hershey squirted on the way to work this morning. Just as I got on the freeway. Couldn’t turn around. I just sped to work as fast as possible with my ass clenched thinking: I’ll pop in the (shared) restroom and rapidly clean myself up, throw out the boxers, and commando it at work. Should be fine, as long as I’m alone in the can.
I get in– there’s no parking, but I figure it out. Get in the can. Lo and behold there is an extremely dignified elderly man in a bespoke London tailor type suit meticulously cleaning his contact lenses in the sink. So I have to go in the stall and pretend like I’m just taking a shit till he leaves.
This man was very fastidious about slowly cleaning his contact lenses. Finally he leaves. I clean up– situation is not nearly as bad as I thought. Boxers were not even streaked. But I’m still pissed, frustrated– now running late for a very important day at work. So as I’m leaving the stall I’m loudly cursing and muttering, “JESUS MOTHERFUCKING FUCK, OF COURSE, THE ONE DAY I FUCKING SHIT MY PANTS THERE’S NO GODDAMN PARKING AND FUCKING GEORGE PLIMPTON IS PERFORMING SURGERY ON HIS MOTHERFUCKING CONTACTS…”
And I leave the restroom. And standing RIGHT OUTSIDE the door is Julia Roberts.
delicioustacos 