It's almost January 1st, which means that some of you will make sincere but halfhearted resolutions to finally get in shape. This is good news for places like Bally's and Gold's Gym and the like, as they can expect an influx of yearlong memberships that will collect nothing but dust and your hard-gambled cash from May onward.
As such, here's KSK's guide to your new gym membership.
Selecting a Gym
The ideal gym is a no-frills establishment. It should have mirrors but no windows. Free weights and nothing else. No air-conditioning, only huge fans that recirculate stale, hot air. The stereo system should be primitive and play only pre-Black Album Metallica. Women should be given dirty looks reserved for traitors and Cowboys fans until they show an aptitude for the clean-and-jerk. That's a fuckin' gym.
Alas, those days are gone. I belong to a New York Sports Club just north of SoHo. It has lots of elliptical trainers and those big rubber balls that people use to strengthen their core muscles. And also hot chicks in sports bras. It makes working out very enjoyable, which is horseshit. Working out should be PAIN.
Men: sneakers, shorts/warm-up pants, t-shirt. Sleeves may be cut off for those wanting freer range of movement/shoulder tattoo exposure. Wifebeaters are for peacock dipshits who want to show off their muscles. Disagree? You're a peacoack dipshit. Also, if you're the guy wearing Airwalks on the treadmill, kill yourself. Now. Same thing for the guy lifting weights in jeans. That guy deserves to have a 45-pound plate dropped on his Adam's apple.
Women: Wear what's comfortable. Sports bra? Sure. Hot pants? That's cool. Extra layer of baby oil? Green light. Makeup? What are you you, some kind of pretentious bitch? Leave the makeup at home.
Fatties: Far be it from KSK to pass judgment on fatties; several of our distinguished members are heavier individuals. As natural gluttons for beer and Buffalo wings, we wholeheartedly endorse people being fat. Unfortunately, fatties don't have the same rights of attire at the gym. Food blisters may wear baggy shorts and t-shirts only. Spandex is strictly verboten. Display of man-boobs -- whether from a too-small shirt or side-boob cleavage resulting from sleevelessness -- will result in the loss of monthly gravy rations.
At no time should you offer any workout tips or technique critiques to a stranger. If somebody wants to slip a disc by bouncing the bar off their chest on the bench, that's their God-given right. In the gym, every man is an island.
Grunting and groaning during sets should be kept to a minimum. You just benched 315? Way to go, meathead. No need to scream like Bruce Lee to announce it to the rest of us, though. Exception: Feel free to grunt like Peter North during a money shot if you can burst a capillary in your eye. Because that's fucking sweet.
The Opposite Sex
Women, while encouraged to wear tight, revealing clothing, are not to be spoken to. Talking to women at the gym means you're at the gym to pick up girls, which means you're a fucking douchebag with no respect for the Church of Physical Fitness.
Women are to be eye-fucked subtly, preferably in between sets and through the use of mirrors. Women are to understand this rule, and must not make eye contact with men under any circumstance. Eye contact is an invitation for inter-sex conversation, which is a mating dance best left to bars and whorehouses.
...And with that, Week 16's Meast:
Steven Jackson: 6 catches for 102 yards and a TD, 33 rushes for 150 yards and the game-winner in OT over the Redskins. Plus, he's got the best dreds in the NFL this side of Mike McKenzie. Measty.