Apparently there is a new gym in town. We have tons of gyms around here which is surprising because most everyone in the midwest is fat. Although I’m sure that’s how gyms make their money: off the fat people who buy memberships and don’t use them. The skinny marathon runners that are damaging the gym cardio machines are losing them money. Anyway, I received this ad in the mail today:
Is this what you look like when you work out? Do you put your giant hoop earrings on and wear your necklace that dangles right into your DD cleavage that doesn’t need a a sports bra during all that jiggling? That is what I call false advertising. I have DDs and I work out and I look a bit more like this:
With my honesty, I could never hold a job in marketing. I wouldn’t be able to sell water to a millionaire dying of thirst. He would take one look at my sweaty middle and say, “no thanks, I’d rather die.”
And with my post-workout look, you best believe I stay in the comfort of my own home. No one wants to see my tomato face. While I was running on the treadmill in my basement tonight, the neighbors pulled into their driveway and their headlights were shining into our basement window. I thought, oh no, I hope they can’t see me. They’re three times my age and probably can’t see ten feet but the thought occurred to me nonetheless.
So no, Aspen Active, thanks for the VIP offer, but I will be staying in my basement away from your flying boobs and sweat-destroyed silver jewelry. Nothing personal (or maybe it is since your ad says, “finally…a health club that cares about it’s members” – maybe they do need me in marketing after all).
P.S. For those of you who have never met me, the second picture is not me. It’s some girl named Staci from Google images. I would never be caught dead in those rubber band contraptions that are giving her knees a Spanx boob effect: even in my own basement.