Sweaty Cargo Shorts

In all my 17+ years of writing this shit-show, I finally find myself with a bit of writer’s block. Whilst the masses rejoice in knowing they are safe from my long-winded posts of sophomoric humor, tales of self-loathing, sub-par chubby middle-aged white guy pseudo adventures, and nonsensical word salad, I bemoan my stifled mind.

Instead of forcing the issue, I have chosen a more organic approach and will write something when I feel that I have something mildly entertaining to say or at least a memory that I want to share with the World Wide Web for some reason, whether the WWW wants it or not.

Right now, all I have is an anecdote about a sweaty 65+-year-old man in cargo shorts I saw at the gym the other day who decided that he was going to do his post-workout stretching literally 3 feet in front of my face as I sat at the preacher curl machine. Between sets, I found myself checking my watch, looking at the ceiling, and adjusting my playlist, so as to avoid eye contact with his sweaty old man ass, which he was thrusting in my direction with every stretch of his aging hamstrings. I even looked around the gym several times, thinking I was being pranked by someone! The strange part was that he was within a few feet of being in the ACTUAL area reserved for stretching and core work but decided to share his ass with me. I don’t want to sound too harsh, I mean maybe he has a thing for 50-year-old chubby, former cyclists trying to get back into shape, and in his world of sweaty cargo shorts and limbered muscles, this was his “dance of seduction.” Lucky me.

Here are a bunch of photos I took from some recent photo walks at Meridian Park and the Hall’s Lake Natural Area.

I’ll be back when I’m back. Which could be tomorrow or three weeks from next Thursday.

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Later.

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