Fellas, fellas fellas… yesterday was a good day at the gym. Female attendance up 100% and the overall female average went from a 5 to an 8. Just fantastic eye candy at the gym all round, and if you didn’t get your workout in then you have nobody to blame but yourself (for not reading this blog and knowing better).
"But Tony, why is the day after Valentine’s such a bountiful day for staring at girls’ asses in the gym?"
I am glad you asked. We here at TwoScoops are experts on pretty much everything, so listen up as I crush your brainspace real quick.
There are a select few occasions where women will consistently over-indulge their caloric intake: Valentine’s Day, Halloween, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and after break-ups. Then the following day, like the day after the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, women everywhere flock to the gym.
But the kicker with Valentine’s Day: hot, single girls are out in FORCE. On V-Day they all got together and watched a romantic comedy, chugged red wine, and stuffed face with pink cake, and chocolate bars, and those chalky candy hearts that read stupid shit like “UR MY GAL” and “DIVA.” Now that they are done being sad about how they don’t have boyfriends, they are fat with the guilt of not having a man date the night before. So the next day rolls around and it is time to hit the gym with a vengeance. God bless stretchy pants, lifting sports bras, and tight tank tops.
I’m telling you, mark February 15th on your calenders for next year: “GO TO GYM,” you won’t hate me.
Also I Googled “hot girls working out” so you can go J-O now:
I should get a fucking fog machine for when I do curls. Make me look all old London, mysteriously bad ass like Robert Downey Jr. in Sherlock Holmes.
For whatever reason my eyes are drawn to the big blank space on the wall?
Yes, whoever made this stupid motivational poster, there is a better motivation than boobs: Getting huge. All this poster makes me wanna do is kinda rub one out but give up cause her face is pretty iffy.
This is ridiculous! Clearly this chick has never actually lifted a weight (or eaten a fucking sandwich). Also, that is terrible dumbbell rack etiquette.
Your aren’t fooling me sweetheart, nobody is this happy reppin’ back squats.
What’s that babydoll? You want me to call you?… So we can “go for a jog” sometime? Yeah thanks, but no thanks, I don’t do cardio.
I am still trying to figure out the athletic significance of the spandex thong.
-Tony “Never Too Many Titties” Muscoli
