Livestrong
No, this isn't some twisted story about some twisted Livestrong braclet being used as a cock ring--this is actually about Lance Armstrong. I've been single for a few months now and after a short period of self loathing and grief I decided to get back on the bike. Though of course the last time I was on a bike I was 8 years old, but a content 8 years old. I remembered the days of racing my Mongoose home from school, wind through my hair, wrist guards tight, yet secure, with the only worry in the world being if Mom had bought more tickle targets. Surely, with a bike seat canvassing my ass cheeks I could be happy again.
I did what all great athletes do before a comeback: bought lots of spandex. Surprisingly, it was my spandex suit. I had always been able to borrow my college roommates snug-wear secretly and Rochelle's publicly, so there had never been a need for the aforementioned purchase.
There's something about a man's first spandex suit. I'm not sure if it's the way it speaks to the world or the way it embraces you like mothers arm at every inch, but its that firm handshake that assures a man he is no longer a boy. It was this this feeling that I jogged walked to Boston Sports Club and mounted my first mechanical bike.
The experience, as you can imagine, was at first miserable. My lungs hurt, my legs hurt, my spandex moistened, and my head and heart were still in dissaray. It wasn't until Allanis Morrisett's "Ironic" music video came on the screen that my attitude began to change. It wasn't until those angelicly soggy, Steve Tyler-esque lips began creeching out irresponsible babble that I began to realize why Lance does what Lance does. The compination of the awkwardly attractive 40-something, combined with the piston like motion of my legs, raised to teh exponent of spandex that I achieved my most rapid erection in my life. A quarter mile later I had came. By the end of the song my spandex-pants-shorts were soaked.
Mind clear and heart content I causually wiped my mechanical stead somewhat dry and went on my way. The only thing Lance was ever one was viagra. Pervert.
I did what all great athletes do before a comeback: bought lots of spandex. Surprisingly, it was my spandex suit. I had always been able to borrow my college roommates snug-wear secretly and Rochelle's publicly, so there had never been a need for the aforementioned purchase.
There's something about a man's first spandex suit. I'm not sure if it's the way it speaks to the world or the way it embraces you like mothers arm at every inch, but its that firm handshake that assures a man he is no longer a boy. It was this this feeling that I jogged walked to Boston Sports Club and mounted my first mechanical bike.
The experience, as you can imagine, was at first miserable. My lungs hurt, my legs hurt, my spandex moistened, and my head and heart were still in dissaray. It wasn't until Allanis Morrisett's "Ironic" music video came on the screen that my attitude began to change. It wasn't until those angelicly soggy, Steve Tyler-esque lips began creeching out irresponsible babble that I began to realize why Lance does what Lance does. The compination of the awkwardly attractive 40-something, combined with the piston like motion of my legs, raised to teh exponent of spandex that I achieved my most rapid erection in my life. A quarter mile later I had came. By the end of the song my spandex-pants-shorts were soaked.
Mind clear and heart content I causually wiped my mechanical stead somewhat dry and went on my way. The only thing Lance was ever one was viagra. Pervert.
posted by Gotty's Life at 5:57 PM
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