Spamalot

Anthony Russo (via teamcaps)

I can’t say for sure who it will be, but I am sure about 2 things:

1.) it will be heterosexual

2.) it will disappoint me

make up some lie, or

eventually get around to “I am not working because of depression/anxiety,” and subsequently have to deal with whatever bullshit-riddled and completely unsolicited opinions on mental illness this stranger feels obligated to share with me.

So my therapist was like, “You don’t have to do either. You can just say you haven’t worked in a while because you’re recovering from an illness.”

I tried it when the home inspector was here today, and it fucking worked. He was like, “oh, I’m sorry, are you doing better now,” and I’m like yeah, and don’t worry, it’s not contagious, awkward laugh, and we moved on.

So I’m in a special gym class for the swim team, so it’s coed with the boys and girls swim team for my school. It’s leg day, and I was setting up my rack for squats. Now I don’t usually go hard in gym because I don’t fucking care and I’m a 3 season athlete, I don’t actually need extra fuxking exercise. I only put maybe 10 pounds on the bar, and this fucking twig looking punk ass comes from fucking nowhere and starts laughing. Mind you I’m taller than fucking everyone in this class, I towered over this twerp. I ask him why he’s laughing, and he says, WITH A STRAIGHT FACE, “Women are so weak” and I almost decked his ass right then but I bite my tongue. For no fucking reason he decided to continue, “Why are women even in sports, they can’t do anything! What’s your max, 50 pounds?” And all his friends are laughing and telling him how cool this he is. So I challenge him to a squatting challenge, I want to see how much weight he can squat. He’s all reluctant now, saying how that wasn’t safe for me, how I might hurt myself, but my swim coach comes from behind and says she would like to see it so he’s like “Fine, whatever, if you get hurt it ain’t my fault.”

He proceeds to put fucking 100 pounds on, my ass is trying not to laugh because wow that’s “a lot”, and the whole time he is struggling, groaning and making gross ass male noises, and only got 4 reps in. He sets it back on the rack and looks at me with this fucking smirk, surrounded by his douche group, and omg I’m about to just drop kick his ass, and he does that stupid hand motion towards the rack. I walk over and my team members ask me how much I want. I tell them to double it. Everyone stops and my coach is smiling cause she knows how much I can squat. My teammates are like “… Are you sure?” And I tell them how I’m fucking ready. So they put 100 more pounds on, making it now 200 pounds, and I tell them to back off. I then walk over and add 50 more pounds, the whole time looking at this white trash. He looks like a dead man, crusty lookin ass about to pass out. The bar now has 250 pounds, and I get 15 reps in. I set it down and I walk up to him, not having broken a sweat, and just pat him on the cheek before continuing on with my workout. My teammates are all freaking out, telling me how cool that was and how they never knew, but the boys team looks like they’re going to cry. I’m really fucking sore but I regret nothing.