The chicks go crazy for guys who can hoist soup cans...

...two at a time.

So. Hot.

I began therapy this week (no..no...not mental or sexual (but not like I couldn't use either)) for my shoulder.

I hate physical therapy.  I've done it before.

It worked so well the first time, that my shoulder apparently decided that it missed it and wanted to go back.

But I digress...

I have two problems with physical therapy.

1) Guilt

2) Looking like a pussy

The first one, "guilt," hits you when you walk through the door.

Your choice of femine colors.

No legs, no arms, no feet, limping, flailing limbs, ugly.

Sorry..sorry...that's actually the description of the girl I picked up the last time I went out drinking.

Anyway...there I am. 

Completely and utterly healthy except for this annoying crick in my shoulder.

I have no limp.  I have all my limbs. I'm fairly attractive.

I don't belong here. 

Therapist: "Okay, give me some pushups now."

Me (on my 30th push up): "Do you want me to do them one-handed? Should I clap my hands on the 'up' movement?"

(angry crippled people start throwing shit at me)

It's like walking into a Weight Watchers meeting when you weigh 110 pounds. 

The people there WANT TO KILL YOU.

Or eat you...whatever.  The point is, you're out of your element. 

Then...comes point #2...

Therapist: "Now, let's do some bicep curls."

...and she hands me a four pound dumbbell.

Four pounds.

I crap bigger than this.

And - oh joy - they're even the dainty lime-green or neon-purple colored ones with the protective coating...

...just bright enough to draw the eyes of everyone in the room over to you. 

Awesome.

Me: "Wow. Four pounds. Here, Mrs. Therapist...why don't you just remove my penis and testicles and call it a day?"

Luckily, I only have to bang out three sets of fifteen.

However, since God hates me, he chooses this time to have the hottest chick in the building come into the room.

What she saw when she looked at me.

In my head, I'm screaming, "I CAN DO MORE! THIS ISN'T MY CHOICE!! I'M MIGHTY!!"

However, I know she's thinking, "What a giant pussy." 

To make this worse, I'm all sweaty from all one-handed clapping push-ups I just did.

...but it looks like this stupid four-pound thing is simply KICKING MY ASS.

Fan-f*cking-tastic.

Stupid shoulder.

I feel degraded.

I feel embarrassed. 

I'm going to Weight Watchers just to make myself feel better.

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