Every work day, I see those Crossfit people jogging across the street. Back and forth like good little lemmings.
I have to admit, I’m a little jealous of their bodies, but I already know I’ll never set down the twinkies long enough to change anything.
One day, I want to go get a tub of ice cream and a bucket of fried chicken and set up a lawn chair right in their jogging path and eat while they pass me, drenched in sweat.
I’m less of a motivator and what you’d call a de-motivator. I’ll even dip the fried chicken in the ice cream. I don’t care. I’ve lost all self-respect at this point. I have nothing to lose.