My Professional Home Gym Is Finally Gone

Everything is gone, the entire home gym, save for the mirrors, and I have a semi-firm commitment from a guy that says he’ll come by and pick them up on Tuesday (election day, don’t forget!).

All the bars and bumper plates went to a guy who owns a strongman-themed gym in New London, CT. The power rack, leg press, large dumbbell set and other varia went to a male nurse (I think – not the maleness, I know the guy’s a dude, but him being a nurse) from Hartford, CT (you still need to pick up the rest of the dumbbells, Rob). The small dumbbell set and various plates went to a doctor from Shelton, CT. A cop from Massachusetts bought a pulldown/lat row machine. All the rest was just picked up by a Ghanese lawyer and his buddy currently living in MA who are buying up stuff left and right for a planned commercial gym in Accra, Ghana (I kid you not).

When all is said and done I figure I got the minimum I was willing to accept when I first advertised the home gym for sale back in August (not counting the damage to my garage caused by the Ghanese lawyer trying to back in a van that just wouldn’t fit), and I got figuratively raped on several occasions.

Thanks to everybody who came to my house whether you bought something or not, and to those who did, I hope the equipment will bring you joy and happiness and big muscles and stuff (a free banana for the first person who gets the reference). To those who made an appointment and never showed up: SUCK A BAG OF DICKS!

This marks the end of an era for me. At 54 (55 in a few weeks) I have abandoned all ambition of making any sort of comeback in the bodybuilding field. I’m just too fucking old and have too many injuries. Not to say that I’ll never work out again, but I have nothing left to prove. I’ll be content being a moderately fit senior citizen. There’s a new Edge Fitness location just a few miles down the road from where I live and I might just sign up. Even if I hate chain gyms.

Super Tuesday

So it’s Super-Duper Tuesday,  Wolf Blitzer and the rest of the 24-hour news cycle pundit-sphere (hey, I’m getting good at this!) are peeing their pants in pure excitement as the predictions, results and too-close-to-calls are starting to trickle in.who-gives-a-fuck Well I’ve got better things to do (scratch my ass/balls, pick my nose, masturbate, watch paint dry, organize my sock drawer, pull the wings off of flies, drown kittens, roofie & defile a teen…you know; important shit) and am quite happy to learn about the outcome on Who-Gives-A-Flying-Fuck Wednesday.