If someone figures out the point to beach paddle ball, then please enlighten me. In the meantime, I will be declining any invitation to participate in the game.
Tag Archive for 'balls'
After my two year long membership to Gold’s Gym expired a few months ago, I was ready to call it quits on the concept entirely. Surrounded by spring’s delightful weather, the last thing I wanted to do was recommit my hard earned money and extra time after work to habitual indoor exercise. My wife didn’t necessarily my disposition, however, and headed over to the YMCA a few days later to sign herself up. Of course, given her predilection for savings, it was no surprise that she emerged with a “family package.” After less than 48 hours of being commitment free, I was once again on the hook.
As someone with the world’s worst buyer’s remorse, I tend to have an overwhelming “I’m going to get my money’s worth” sense of urgency with every purchase. This would be no different. I immediately vowed to wear out our downtown YMCA, leaving no machine, court, or group activity untouched.
Gym culture has a way of changing from one location to the next. Gold’s, being new as well as trendy, tends to attract younger singles that lift a lot of free weights and check themselves out in the mirror. Conversely, the Birmingham Y draws a lot of old people: they are wrinkly, they are naked, and they are shameless.
At lunchtime, the men’s locker room is full of unabashed fellas who much prefer holding the towel as opposed to wrapping it around their antiquated midsections. Gold’s had private stalls for everything, but here, sweaty retirees chill on a bench spread-eagle style in full view of communal showers. People spend inordinate amounts of time in precarious positions that a clothed individual would typically avoid. Trust me – nobody casually bends over for more than thirty seconds.
Eventually, I may adjust to the rampant male nudity, but Lord help me if the sporadic piles of ball powder ever fail to gross me out.
Apparently, everyone is going to sex rehab these days. It’s like this year’s Chihuahua in a purse. First there was David Duchovny. Then Tiger Woods did his time in the wake of some notable indiscretions. And now Jesse James is reportedly headed to a clinic to help curb his addiction.
Now, I am not trying to belittle the concept of addiction or poke fun at anyone, but my mind tends to wander. I am curious as to what exactly comprises a sex rehab program. Aside from the predictable rounds of meeting after meeting, what is one surrounded by in such a clinic? What objects and environments would the most perverse sex addict feel comfortable in? Just for a moment, I shall throw my mind into the gutter and explore these topics.
First off, where does a patient sleep in one of these clinics? Obviously, a bed is going to trigger some urges, because (according to every MTV Cribs episode ever) that is where the magic happens. An uncomfortable mat on the floor might suffice instead, but pillows are certainly out of the question. Next we have the necessary accoutrements. There can be no “chest of drawers” because of an obvious boobie reference Lamps could be construed as phallic (especially tall ones), so overhead light will have to suffice. Radios are allowed, but rap music, R&B, and anything from Van Halen’s David Lee Roth era (i.e. Hot for Teacher, Panama, etc) are not to be played. Television is absolutely off limits. Even the commercials on AMC are showing skin these days, whether they are selling toothpaste or dog food.
What activities does one fill his (or her) free time with at the sex clinic? Pretty much every American sport at minimum consists of balls, sometimes sticks, and occasionally shafts. Just to play it safe, let’s stick to jogging, but no short shorts allowed. Chess, as well as puzzles are to be avoided, as we don’t want anybody touching any “pieces” while on the premises.
Now, one would think that a typical array of food would be free of sexuality, but not so. There are plenty of items that a dirty mind could have a field day with. Hot dogs, sausages, pies, melons, carrots, cucumbers, and eggplant are all banned from the cafeteria. Maybe we should simply stick to cereal and PB&Js.
And there you have it.
Mind now removed from gutter…well sortof.