Friday, 19 April 2013

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Dear dairy best ever story

By: ExtraFunnyPicture On: 10:40
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    Dear Diary,
    For my birthday this year, my family (the dear s) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for
    me.

    Although I am still in great shape, I decided it would be a good idea to go
    ahead and give it a try.

    I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Brad, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics
    instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.

    My daughter seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

    MONDAY:

    Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Brad
    waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Brad gave me
    a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skilful way in which he
    conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!

    Brad was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around.
    This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!

    TUESDAY:

    I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.

    Brad made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the
    treadmill, but I made the full mile. Brad's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT-!! It's a whole new life for me.

    WEDNESDAY:

    The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I
    believe I have a hernia in both pectorals.
    Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop.

    Brad was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His
    voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this
    nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Brad put
    me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an
    activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Brad told me it would help me get in shape and
    enjoy life. He said some other sh*t too.

    THURSDAY:

    Brad was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were
    pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late, it took me that long to tie my shoes.

    Brad took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny #!%*% to find
    me.

    Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine -- which I sank.

    FRIDAY:

    I hate that Brad more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world.

    Brad wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the damn barbells
    or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.
    The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher.

    Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

    SATURDAY:

    Brad left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I
    did not show up today. Just hearing him made me want to smash the machine with my planner.
    However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

    SUNDAY:

    I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that
    this week is over. I will also pray that next year my family (the little sh*t s ) will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a
    root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have
    sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!
    __________________
    If you be loved, be worthy of love.

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