Hey I'm Back

I don't feel compelled to apologize for my absurdly long hiatus. The fact is, I am (at the time of this writing) a 17 year old male who's ridiculously prone to ignoring things like his blog. Let's talk about nipple piercings instead.

And the winner of the "Weirdest Segue of the Year" award goes to...

A while back I was at the gym, working out with a friend of mine. While my core audience is comprised of incredibly photogenic sex symbols who simply can't be bothered with petty trifles like weight lifting, I myself exist at the opposite end of the spectrum, right next to the guy who has sweat stains on the back of his shirt. Actually, I'm lying. I am that guy. 

My shirts aren't the only things that get moist when I touch them. 

Anywho, I was at the gym, pumping about as much iron as a perpetually sedentary internet-dweller can be expected to pump. All of a suddenly, a guy and a girl whom I can only assume occupied the unfortunate station of his girlfriend came in. The man looked to be in his early twenties, muscular in some weird places and...just pretty oddly shaped in general, really. After entering the gym, the man proceeded to flit about from one machine to the next, spending about 5 minutes on each one and doing nothing in terms of productivity and not-being-a-dickheadedness. His girlfriend just kind of sat on a bench and played quiet music from a portable speaker she had procured from her Cars backpack. Kind of a weird couple. Upon reflection, the guy looked like a misshapen potato. 

Women. The other things were women.

The weird couple eventually established a pattern where they would hang around the gym for 15 minutes or so, leave for a bit, then come back and do the exact same thing as before. I was too preoccupied with lamenting the abysmal state of my muscles to really pay attention to them. Then something terrible happened.

The guy took off his shirt, which was problem number one. People get sweaty when they work out, and nobody takes off their shirt in the gym because they get sweat all over everything, and that's gross.

Problem number two arose when the guy turned around and provided me with a very clear view of his nipple piercings.

...

Ew.

I wish I had something witty to say to this, I really do. Unfortunately, I don't. I don't care if you saved a limbless orphan baby from a freak electrical fire while being chased by a cruise missile and a lion. I don't even care if you did it with a broken leg and a severe case of asthma. If you're a male and you have nipple piercings, I hope you died in the aforementioned electrical fire. Male nipple piercings are for the emotionally malformed and the intellectually challenged. 

I'm sorry, I just can't do this. This story doesn't get any resolution, I'm upset and I have to stop writing.

Ugh.

Uuuuuuuuugh.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.