Recently, I've been thinking that maybe I could use some fitness in my life.
I've been finding myself strangely attracted to sneakers. I have no real use for sneakers. My definition of fitness does not require athletic wear. My daily workout consists of one sit-up when my alarm goes off, and three more for each time that I hit the snooze button. Also, I have really acrobatic sex.
I try to eat right. Cheeseburgers have every food in the new and improved food pyramid. Wine is made from grapes and that counts as a fruit. Yes, I enjoy my cheeseburgers with wine.
This routine has kept me below my target BMI for years. Still, I keep thinking that I could benefit from a little exercise. To prepare, I bought two pair of sneakers (a pair of boots, and two pair of heels).
Feeling one step closer to my new fit lifestyle, I decided to stop by the gym and renew my membership. Several months ago, I was asked to leave the gym and never come back. Surely, they wouldn't remember. They did. I have to say that I have never looked better than the picture they have of me up on the wall behind the desk.
Not easily defeated, I stopped at the local movie store and purchased several workout videos. I am the proud owner of a complete set of dance workout DVDs. Bellydance, hip-hop, Afro-Cuban, Polka, Jazz, Tap, and Strip-aerobics.
I rushed home, opened a bottle of wine, pushed the coffee table out of the way and closed the blinds. I smoked a cigarette and sat down to watch strip-aerobics. I was feeling more fit already.
Just before bed, as I was brushing my teeth, I decided to try out some of the choreography. I stood in the bathroom mirror and undid my pants. They dropped to my ankles. I kicked them off dramatically. My pants flew up into the air above my head and landed directly in the toilet.
I am a quick learner.