@Mr. Bitter The Browns are always damned if they do, damned if they don't. I bet if the Browns took Jack at 32 people (probably including you) would say "LOL the Clowns took someone with horrible knees in the 2nd round what a joke." And it's not gonna change until they start winning. The Browns got their #1 Receiver on the board and 2 1st's and 2 2nd's in next years draft which is a good haul. If the Ravens did this they'd be deemed geniuses.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 1: Russian Cleavage Pharmacist
If all your notes are up to date, you know that I've joined a new gym because of the female members, better hours and lack of fat women who want to eat me.
I do go back to my old gym from time to time. I made the trip there last week for two reasons:
First, the pool at the new gym was too damn cold. I went there on Monday, and it was 76 freaking degrees. My old gym pool is always heated to 86, which is perfect. Anything colder than 84 degrees is unacceptable for a fat man like me. I mean, how am I supposed to eat tacos after working out if my whole body is cold? Where will I get the energy if my body is using all of it to heat me up? Hmm?
I was pretty pissed about the pool temperature, so I talked to my hot chick lifeguard friend.
Me: Seventy-six degrees is too damn cold!
Hot Chick Lifeguard: You're such a wuss.
Me: But it's tooooo cooooolldddddd.
Hot Chick Lifeguard: Stop it, Walt. All you do is complain. Just jump in!
Me: No one else is in the pool. Everyone thinks it's too cold.
Hot Chick Lifeguard: Some people were in earlier. They didn't complain.
Me: Ugh... nah... I think I'm going to hop into the hot tub instead.
I have some cool stories about my hot tub adventures at this new gym, as well as a list for hot tub etiquette, but that's for another time.
The second reason I went to my old gym is because it's next to my pharmacy - the Rite-Aid with the poop stains on the floor I wrote about several months ago. I had to go there to refill my tube of medicated toothpaste.
That's right - medicated toothpaste. I'm really prone to cavities - I once had 17 cavities in one trip to the dentist (it was mildly amusing to watch him pull out the chart, and point to them and count each one by one) - so I've been put on medicated toothpaste called Prevident. It actually tastes pretty good - especially the bubble gum flavor NOM NOM NOM NOM.
Anyway, the Rite-Aid is clean now, and the Hot Russian Pharmacist from my previous adventure was working there again. She was wearing a black-and-silver top under her white coat that really revealed her ginormous cleavage - I'd say her bra size is a 69 D-plus (get, it, 69?) So, with that in mind, I'll refer to her as Russian Cleavage Pharmacist.
Unfortunately, there was a line. Two people were in front of me: an old man (about 75) and short black dude with a porno mustache. As Russian Cleavage Pharmacist summoned the old man forward, another pharmacist appeared behind the other register. She was a woman in her 50s with a Justin Bieber lesbian hairdo. She also had a hairy mole on her face. I nearly puked all over the black man after noticing the mole, but it's a good thing I didn't because that would have been considered racist.
Hairy Mole Pharmacist, who was also Russian, called forth the black man. Now, it was a race against time. Would the old man finish with Russian Cleavage Pharmacist first, or would I have to interact with the disgusting Hairy Mole Pharmacist because the black guy would be quicker?
Naturally, the old guy was taking forever, so the black guy, using his superior athleticism, received his medicine first.
OK, I didn't actually yell that out - only because it would have ruined my shot with Russian Cleavage Pharmacist. I was extremely upset though.
As I was waiting for Hairy Mole Pharmacist to find my toothpaste, I realized why the old man was taking so long. He was trying to game Russian Cleavage Pharmacist! I overheard a part of the conversation...
Old Man: How'sh your holidaysh?
Russian Cleavage Pharmacist: Holidays iz good! Iz good!
Old Man: I wash drinkinsh apple chidersh on New Year'sh. I can't drinksh champagnesh.
Russian Cleavage Pharmacist: Champagne iz good! Iz good!
Old Man: I have cirrhosish of the liversh, so I can't drinksh champagnesh.
Russian Cleavage Pharmacist: Ohhh I love champagne! Iz good!
Russian Cleavage Pharmacist didn't seem to care that the poor old man had cirrhosis of the liver. Hmm... I wonder what she did on New...
Voice: Vat iz your date of birs to please!?
Me: Umm... what?
The voice was Hairy Mole Pharmacist, who was obviously annoyed that I was distracted by Russian Cleavage Pharmacist. Even after I gave her my "date of birs," she gave me an evil glare.
What? Can you blame me? Russian Cleavage Pharmacist had such incredibly interesting things to say, like "I love champagne," so she had ensnared me with her amazing insight and intellect.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: Horny Teens
Despite nearly crashing my car about a dozen times just thinking about Hairy Mole Pharmacist's hairy mole, I somehow made it to my old gym.
The lobby was empty, save for three Russian teenagers, who looked like they were about 16, maybe 17 years old. Two of them - one of them was a tall, skinny dude with a Jew-fro, while the other was a short blonde - were making out. The third was a Russian brunette who smiled at me multiple times as I walked to and from the pool observation area to see how crowded the pool was. The Russian brunette seemed really into me, but I didn't feel like committing any felonies that day, so I just walked by her.
The three Russian teens came out onto the deck and jumped into the pool when I was about halfway through my mile. The two lovebirds promptly continued to make out, while the third wheel swam around, constantly hugging the lane line adjacent to where I was swimming. She was watching me swim, hopefully thinking deep, dirty thoughts about me.
I completed my mile, and noticed that my friend Gina, the lifeguard at this pool, was in the other lane. I saw her giving the teens the stink eye, so I had to ask her about it...
Me: Those are some cool kids.
Gina: Ugh. Yeah. They were in here all day yesterday.
Me: All day? Well, this gym is the place to be.
Gina: Haha, I know, right?
Me: I hate that they're just making out like that in public non-stop.
Gina: I know. I yelled at them a few times to stop making out, but they don't listen to me. Ugh, I wish they'd just go away.
Gina's wish came true. A fourth Russian, this one looking like he was in his early 20s with a creepy mustache, emerged out of the locker room. He went out to greet the three Russian teens, who then walked toward their respective locker rooms, perhaps agreeing to meet in the steam room.
As they walked toward me, I couldn't help but think that I knew the guy who just came out of the locker room. He looked so familiar. I apparently knew him because he rushed over to shake my hand.
Creepy Mustachioed Russian: How you doing? I no see you long time! Long time!
Me: Umm... hi.
Creepy Mustachioed Russian: You remember me, yes!?
Me: Of course!
Creepy Mustachioed Russian: I see you svim! You go boom boom boom!
Me: I guess.
Creepy Mustachioed Russian: Do you change your profession to engineer?
I suddenly remembered who this guy was. He was Russian Mustache Speedo Man - a weirdo I wrote about nearly two years ago who tried to make me quit this Web site to become an engineer. I would have recognized him sooner, except for the fact that he wasn't wearing a speedo. So he was just Russian Mustache Man today. Thankfully, this conversation lasted only a minute or so because the three Russian teens were waiting for him in the steam room.
As an engineer, Russian Mustache Speedo Man is clearly intelligent enough to learn how to avoid felonies by banging 16-year-old brunettes. Sexual perverts everywhere could learn a thing or two from this wise man - as long as he doesn't give them career advice, or anything.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: Soap Scuz Man
I haven't really mentioned the steam room at my old gym very much. In fact, the last time I talked about it was an entry in November 2009 about Leaf Man Cockblocker. That was a very sad day for me.
I didn't go into the steam room the day I saw the three Russian teenagers and their creepy, mustachioed friend, but I did make a trip there the following day. Luckily, there wasn't anyone there to coax me into quitting this Web site.
There were three individuals in there that Thursday afternoon, however. Two were an older Asian couple, while the third was this monstrous behemoth of a woman. She was so unbelievably large that even her skin rolls had rolls. It was pretty disgusting. I normally would have been apprehensive about being trapped in an enclosed space with someone so large, but I figured that the Asians had invented something to keep her from eating regular people.
Five minutes into my steam room sojourn, the Asian husband quickly said something to his wife. I was going to accuse him for making fun of me in his oriental gibberish, but it quickly became clear that he said something like, "let's go, whore" because he and his wife immediately got up and vacated the steam room.
That's when it got weird. The fat woman started grunting and heaving. She continuously took heavy breaths and made strange noises. The way I figured it, she was getting ready to either eat me or die of a heart attack. I wasn't about to find out which one, so I bolted out of there as quickly as possible.
I hurried into the men's locker room and slammed the door. Phew. No fat woman was going to eat me and/or have a heart attack on me that day.
I wandered over to the showers - fully clothed, of course - when I saw the Asian man from before. I thought about saying something to him along the lines of, "Hey man, next time please don't leave me in the steam room alone with that fat wildebeest, or if you do, could you please lend me your awesome Anti-Fat Woman Machine?"
Before I could say that though, I noticed that the Asian man was doing something strange. He was bent over and scooping stuff off the ground onto a paper towel.
I crept closer to see what he was doing. There was a bar of soap on the ground, and because the water from the shower head was pelting it, there was all of this soap scuz and bubbles on the ground. The Asian man gathered all of the soap scuz and bubbles into his paper towel and then proceeded to rub it all over his body.
Now, I know what you're thinking: "Walt, just because Soap Scuz Man showers in a weird way doesn't make him a Jerk of the Week." You're absolutely right. In fact, I have it on good authority that this is how all Asians bathe themselves.
Soap Scuz Man is a Jerk of the Week because he didn't tell me how to build his Anti-Fat Woman Machine. Something like that could change humanity forever, yet he's hogging it all to himself. What a douche.