Holy testicle-tuesday!
There is something to bitch about which irks me beyond belief nearly every time I set foot in the gym.
I’m not talking about the personal trainers, the douchebags wearing nipple-chaffing muscle-tees nor the front-counter girl that holds less interest in swiping your membership card than she does about gently pressing her face against a sharpened knife.
No I’m not – I’m talking about the circuit trainer. (more…)



