09.03.06 :: 11:15 am

the monsoon has ended. our crops have been destroyed. it will not be a good year for wheat.

seriously, what the fuck was that shit?

I'm glad it's over and the sun is out and the sky is the most gorgeous shade of cornflower blue.

Going to the park with Stoosh-dog to read one of the three books I bought yesterday.

But before I go I feel the need to put down in writing the straight-up INSANE class I took at the gym yesterday.

So I go in, all ready to start, I get my weights ready and blah blah and then a huge MACK TRUCK of a burly big-ass black man comes in and says that the class has been cancelled...
UNLESS
we want to take HIS class.

"What's your class?" Someone asks.
"It is INTENSE." He replies.

Most of the women are feeling pretty smug and he can tell so he adds, "I'm not kidding. I'm a BUST YOUR ASSES. You are going to be praying for mercy. It's boot camp training. I used to train soldiers."

And then a quiet falls over the room.

So I'm thinking, OK cool!

Most of the people agree to stay and he goes over how it's gonna be:

"No stopping. For an hour. You get ONE break for 2 minutes but that's it. After each set of exercises, you gimme 20 pushups. Understood?"

YES SIR!

"Now, I got 2 CD's here that I like to listen to. I don't care what y'all like. LET'S GET STARTED."

And he pops in a CD as we're doing 100 jumping jacks at a frantic pace and what blasts forth from the speakers?

I ask you. What.

COLDPLAY.

My mind screeches to a halt as I watch this GIGANTIC BLACK MAN sing along to "Clocks"

MOTHERFUCKING "CLOCKS" BY COLDPLAY

So we're sweating up a storm and panting and dry heaving and crying and he's all crooning to himself while screaming commands intermittently.

It was the most bizarre hour of my life.
I kind of love him now.
I want to take that class again and see if he busts out something whiter than Coldplay next time.

Perhaps BARBRA STREISAND.

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