Tasteless

Women Are Always Right

You know that old saying about “if I got a dime every time somebody ___________”?

Well, I used to think if I got a small commission every time a woman expressed her fear of lifting weights simply because she thought it would make her look more man-like, I’d have enough to pay off the U.S. debt and still have enough left over to buy a couple small continents.

But apparently lifting weights really does have the potential to make some women take on male characteristics.

Just in case these pictures aren’t a fluke (or photo-shopped), I’ve already started brainstorming a formal apology to women everywhere for all the misinformation I – and my fitness industry brothers and sisters – been giving over the years. Here’s my rough notes so far. Let me know if you have any ideas how I can make this better…

Ladies of the world, I’m so sorry.

You were right all along.  [women just love this crap. use this phrase frequently!]

It’s all my fault that you stayed fat when all you wanted to do was lose a measly 30 pounds in a weekend to “kickstart” your results before doing a “real” fitness program.

Those ab-sculpting videos and low-intensity ‘cardio’ classes I talked you out of really were the answer you were looking for – and I didn’t take your feelings into consideration.

I’m so stupid and feel so ashamed. [here's where I'll start doing the fake cry thing]

I’m just now seeing how special you really are. [sniffle a little bit] You were absolutely right when you told me that your body wouldn’t respond to progressive resistance training and a goal-supportive diet even though you only had a ‘cheat meal’ once – sometimes twice – a day.

The frequent cakes, cookies, muffins and wine were only ‘snacks’ and couldn’t have had anything to do with your lack of results. They were all organic. Heck, you bought ‘em from the ‘health food’ store, so they must be good for you.

I don’t know if I can ever earn back your trust…But maybe if you let me buy each and every one of you a triple-scoop frozen yogurt smothered with organic, free-trade chocolate syrup, we can try to rebuild what we once had. But I’ll lift the spoon to your mouth. We wouldn’t want you to get even bulkier from all that lifting.

When I realized you were right, I created something especially for women like you. Now I want to show you a preview of my brand new infomercial. It’s a product I call “sleeping beauty.”  There’s a battery operated 1/4lb plastic weight that comes in a little, pink box with a ribbon. You put it under your pillow at night and the weight sends fat burning signals to your brain while you sleep…

CPR/AED Renewal Notes (PIC NSFW)

I finally renewed my expired CPR/AED certification. Even though this is roughly my 15th-ish time or so sitting through the cheesy videos and repetitive demonstrations of my ability (to pretend) to remove a foreign object from Rescue Anne’s mouth, I actually learned some new things… sort of.

1) The American Red Cross Adult CPR/AED cert used to be good for just one year. Now, it’s good for 2.

2) When you have a young college girl instructing for the first time, it can be incredibly entertaining to ask her questions such as “if a victim has nipple rings, do I need to remove them before placing the AED pads on their chest?” – along with “…and if so, how do I do that?” Another fun question: “How should I modify my hand position for chest compressions if a victim has breast implants that won’t ‘give’ any more than a pair of upside-down Tupperware bowls on a kitchen counter?” (neither of which she was able to answer)

If I can’t give proper chest compressions, should I try the “motorboat” technique instead?

3) even though there’s evidence chest compressions ONLY can be more effective than rescue breaths plus chest compressions, the ARC still teaches the supposedly ‘less effective,’ up close and personal method – though they are in the process of reconsidering that position.

4) Finally, no matter how comfortable you might think it’ll be to “spoon” a limbless mannikin while you’re on the floor watching Red Cross videos, never… I repeat, NEVER do this  in public.

Riding Ted Williams’ Coattails

Ted "Golden Voice" Williams

Certainly by now, you’ve heard all about Ted Williams fall and rise (and fall?) from glory. Not being one to pass up a good opportunity for shameless self-promotion, I figured if the Today Show, the Cleveland Cavaliers and umpteen other businesses are willing to ride Mr. Williams’ camouflaged coat-tails into viral-video stardom, then who the hell am I to sit here and think up my own unique marketing message to promote my new Grand Rapids personal trainer website?

After all, fame sells, baby.

It’s amazing what you can create with some cardboard, a couple of permanent markers and a camera, don’t ya’ think?

(Note to Matt Lauer & Meredith Vieira… have your people call my people and we’ll try to set up a time for me to come on your show.)

Hair Removal: Where Does It End?

I used to give one of my ol’ buddies a hard time when his mom would Nair his back in high school.

Perhaps it’s what they call poetic justice, but I’ve grown progressively hirstute over the years.

Since finally breaking down and going to the table for my first back waxing experience last year, I’ve had to face tough questions.  Namely, where do you STOP?

Unlike the naturally occurring tree line near the top of mountains, I think it looks pretty darned ridiculous to go from a woolly forest of body fur to the alpine tundra of bare skin.

No transition zone.  No feathering/fading from one area to the next.  Just a sharp line where the skin stops and hair starts.

To spite the fact that I have, in fact, become “one of those guys”, I’ve actually toyed with the idea of doing a full-body mohawk – one continuous loop of pelage from top to bottom.  I seriously doubt I’ll ever go down that road, but it certainly paints an amusing picture in my mind.

At least now that I’ve become a regular at a local de-hairing establishment, it seems the hair that does grow back really is thinner and lighter that it used to be.  And using balls of sugar, water and who-knows-what-else (instead of traditional wax), they’re able to give me a more natural looking ‘fade’ from back to shoulder.

If you want more information on the history of hair removal (and you know you do), you’re gonna love this.

While we’re on the subject of hair, is it just me, or have you ever noticed the correlation between bald guys and convertibles?  On those rare occasions I see a guy with a full head of hair driving in the open air, I always snicker and think, “enjoy your hair while you got it, chump!”  I plan on keeping my (head) hair as long as I can -  I won’t even open the sunroof.

More Liberal Fan Mail…

Name: MOLLT L.
Email: CROPDUSTER1xxx@xxxxxx.xxxx

JOE, EAVERY [sic] MORNING I WATCH YOUR SHOW AND I AM TIRIED [sic] OF HEARNIG [sic] YOU NOT ALOWING [sic] YOUR GUEST TO TALK OR FINISH SPEAKING.

BUT MY MAIN COMPLAINT IS YOU CRYING EVERY MORNING. FIRST ABOUT THE ELECTION NOW ABOUT OUR NEWELY [sic] ELECTED PRESIDENT.

SUCK IT UP AND STOP COMPLAINING.  SORRY THE NEWELY [sic] ELECTED PRESIDENT DIDEN;T [sic] REACH ACROSS THE ISLE AND PICK YOUR SORRY ASS.

A DEVOTED FAN

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

While I certainly appreciate you taking the time to email me and calling me a “sorry ass” (not to mention your liberal use of CAPITAL LETTERS), perhaps it would do you some good to revisit my contact page.

This time, pay v-e-r-y c-l-o-s-e a-t-t-e-n-t-i-o-n to the BOLD red print.

Thanks.

-Joe-

Stuff Fat People Like

Finding inspiration at the politically-incorrect (but oh, so funny) blog, StuffWhitePeopleLike, I’m gonna go out on a socially insensitive limb and take a dig at the stereotypical “gravitationally significant” population of America (and maybe I can finally get my own book deal w/a $300k advance, too).

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STUFF FAT PEOPLE LIKE

Elastic – Snug and secure yet comfortable and forgiving (as long as it’s not pushed to it’s absolute limit), miraculous elastic is capable of holding socks in place on the thickest of cankles.  It eliminates the need for a rope-belt around even the largest of waists, but if you want to secure your pants in the style of Jethro Bodine, you can always use a bungee cord and get the best of both worlds.

Why would a fat person want a $3000 bespoke suit when he/she can get an entire walk-in closet full of sweatpants for less?

Buffets – Fat people always eat at buffets.  When I was a kid, these were marketed as “All You Can Eat”.  Over the years, I’ve noticed the subtle the shift to “All You Care to Eat”.  I suppose this makes the assumption that fat people are both capable and willing to stop before they fully “get their money’s worth”.

If a Democrat wins the White House (gasp!) in November, I suspect we’ll see the creation of a new government sponsored program preventing over-consumption of calories.  (but that’s enough about my own political bias for today)

Wholesale Clubs – Where else can fat people buy low-fat cookies and diet soda in bulk?  At least they have the opportunity to buy a treadmill while shoving food samples down their pie-hole.

Cable TV’s Sports PackagePlay a sport?  Why would a fat person do that when they can watch 100s of games from the comfort of their own Lay-Z-Boy recliner without breaking a sweat?  There seems to be a correlation between how fat a person is and how many sporting events they watch, but more research is needed.

Metabolic Syndrome/Syndrome X - Speaking of reseach, medical disorders provide a convenient excuse legitimate reason why fat people can’t lose weight even though they snack on low-fat cookies and only eat one “real” meal a day.  Obviously, these are the true casualties of a rare genetic condition.

All-inclusive vacations/cruises – Like buffets, a fat person can eat all they want and get all the alcohol they care to drink, too.  Plus, watching the scenery from a lounge chair on the sky deck is almost as good as watching your wide-screen TV at home.

Big-Dog t-shirts/Super-sized menus/Hummer H2s/Breast & Penile Implants: We live in a country where bigger always means better (which would explain the length of this blog post).   Fat people have the mindset that eating dessert doesn’t make a person fat, it just makes one “proportional”.

IHOP – French toast, pancakes, waffles – Oh my! According to their website, the International House of Pancakes sells more than 700 MILLION pancakes each year to fat people.  I’d hate to pay their syrup bill.

Have something to add to the list?

Comments, hi-5s and random insults are always welcomed

COMING SOON… Things Fit People Like
(Morning Cup Of Joe is an equal opportunity offender)

Back Waxing and the Modern Neanderthal

Boron = Moron?
It started back when I was about 17. Boron was being touted as the ‘new miracle supplement’ – it was said to ‘increase testosterone levels’.

I’ve already been weight training for 5 years and figured “what the hell?” It’s about time I try something a little stronger than a multi-vitamin.

While I can’t say I actually got stronger because of the boron, as soon as the hair started growing on my shoulders and back, I assumed it was doing something – and that was good enough for me. At least there was a visual “return” on my investment (more than I can say for the multi-vits).

Soon after, I learned that the boron studies were done on post-menopausal women and their testosterone increases were negligible at best (of course, they wouldn’t put that fine print on the bottle at GNC).

I quickly stopped taking the supplement du jour for fear of going into early man-opause (buh-duh-DUM! Try the veal – I’m here all weekend. Be sure to tip your waitress…) Maybe my youthful man-fur was just a carry-over from my cave-dwelling ancestors, triggered by puberty. Surely it’ll stop as soon as this phase of my life is behind me, right?

Almost 20 years later…
Having lived with my personal (and continually expanding) wool sweater for all this time, being a sensitive, new age kind of guy, earlier this week I had another one of those “what the hell?” moments of inspiration.

This time… waxing.

Going Undercover
Delaware really is a small town and I seriously contemplated crossing the state line to hide my secret plans from anyone who might know me. After an hour of driving around, scouting out possible locations to have the last ounce of my pride ripped from my flesh, I found the perfect place.

It was tucked away behind a Starbucks; right next to a sandwich shop. Surely I won’t bump into anyone I know here.

I asked the woman at the front desk if they were equipped to handle me – a first timer. She assured me lots of guys have this done. But I never thought I’d be one of THOSE guys.

As I paced back and forth waiting for the back-hair-ripping-specialist, I noticed an ambulance pulled up to the entrance. I immediately assumed they were on standby mode for me – just in case. Turns out, they were only going to the sandwich shop.

After a 40 minute wait (my god! what kind of problems must the person before me have to deal with?), my wax-er (is that what they’re called?) came out. She looked at me and said, “Joe? Do you remember me?”

Yep. Former client. I helped her get in shape for her wedding a couple years ago.

“I…I…I thought you worked in a BANK???”, I stammered.

So much for laying low.

Janet told me how skin was her real passion and she got out of the financial world to help people look and feel better about themselves (I can see how high interest rates and late payments could have the opposite effect).

R-value: 13
Slightly uncomfortable reintroduction aside, the actual hair removal wasn’t so bad. I have a few tattoos and waxing reminded me of the dull, burning feeling you get after a few hours getting inked. It’s a much stranger feeling to have my shirt and skin in direct contact. It’s also surprising how much of an insulative value body hair has to offer. We’re having a mild winter, but now I feel a bit of a chill coming in from behind me. Next time I’ll be sure to plan my waxing appointment around the long-term weather forecast.

Wax on, Wax off. Don’t Even Go There
After she removed the final remnants of my dignity (and hair), Janet put some kind of a “calming” gel on my skin.

I have a feeling it’s the reason I’ve been dealing with a pimple breakout on my back for the last couple of days. Maybe it’s just a normal reaction for a first timer, but I suspect Janet added something extra to make me think twice before scheduling a Brazilian wax.

My Vote Goes To The Candidate Who…

Ok, I’m not really gonna make this a political post.  In the interest of keeping this a health/fitness/training themed blog, how ’bout we file this one under “personal hygiene”

If you’re planning on voting for McCain or Obama only because you believe a president should be capable of standing up while they take a leak, this might be a good time to review your voting criteria.

Now I wonder how long it’ll take for Hillary to promote universal P-mate coverage at sporting events, political rallies and concerts…

(for the record, I found the video at my favorite blog for a guaranteed laugh: ListOfTheDay

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While we’re on the subject of morons, would any of my fine readership care to meander over to my contact page and explain to me a better way to get the point across to “Gabe Benjamin S”?

(um… what I mean to say is that Gabe is the moron, not you, fine reader…)

Maybee I’s nots thuh most kleerest wryder somestime, but I thunk it’d bin ‘splained wellz ‘nuf in the BOLD RED PRINT

Gabe, you’re an idiot – the first one worth singling out since I added the BOLD RED PRINT.

Before I sign off, did anyone else happen to notice the BOLD RED PRINT?

Political Correctness Lessons for Skinny People

Being the always considerate, caring, warm-hearted (and only occasionally sarcastic) person that I am, I figured it would be helpful to you, my dear, insensitive readers – if I provided a brief lesson on ways to call someone a “lard-ass” without the risk of overstepping bounds of common decency.

Lesson one: Use specific anatomical/physiological terms instead of offensive slang

Example: “look at that fat ass dude!” becomes “please join me in observing the person with an XY chromosome pattern and an adipose tissue-dominant posterior”

Lesson two: Never – EVER – point and laugh at someone just because they can eat you for breakfast.  Instead, find some quality other than physical size to laugh at.  Traditional alternatives such as race, religion, gender, political affiliation, IQ or disfigurations of the reproductive organs are always acceptable.

Example: Michael Moore is not fat.  He’s just a tree-hugging satanic liberal hermaphrodite. 
(See? Doesn’t that sound so much nicer than saying he’s a “fat-ass piece of sh*t”?)

Lesson three:  If you do get caught saying something which could be misconstrued as inappropriate or offensive regarding one’s larger-than-life physical stature, follow the Don Imus approach: Lay low for a couple months and then resurface as if nothing ever happened.  Time heals all wounds.

Before the hate mail comes rolling in, let me remind you that in my power-lifting days, I was a 300+ pound lump o’ crap.  While at the time, I held firmly to the delusion that it was all muscle, the few remaining pictures would tell otherwise.  Heck, even when I was a kid, I always had to wear the “husky boy” jeans from Sears.