A late afternoon person can never be a morning person

On the treadmill? Really--whats the point?

For my money, there's nothing that spells irony more than someone at the gym, standing around eating a candy bar. It was a Snickers bar; had to be my favorite. There he was, just chomping away, right in my face. I would have loved to see him on the treadmill, cigarette in one hand; bourbon in the other. Burn the candle at both ends, I say.


Later on in the day, I pass by a tanning salon. This ample broad was standing, outside smoking a cigarette and talking loudly in her cellphone: "you know, they say tanning makes you look slimmer." Does it Really?--tell me about it, hungry hungry hippo. There would have to be a whole lot of sun to cover the hurt on that one. Besides, nothing says attractive like orange mottled skin. I'll keep my deathly pallor.