A few weeks ago with sixteen weeks until our fifth wedding anniversary, which is just shy of our ten year anniversary of being together, and just past our nine year anniversary of moving to Florida, we decided to get in shape. Not just lose weight, but really get in shape. He wants a six pack, and I want a great can.
So we joined the Y and have been going pretty regularly. And I’m pretty sure it made me gay. I mean I am constantly checking out other women.
“Look at the guns on her; she makes Michelle Obama look like Olive Oyl.”
“I bet she does squats…Her thighs make me sore just looking at her.”
“Have you ever seen boobs like that? I want to touch them. No I don’t. Yes I do, but not the nipple, I’m not that gay.”