Shaking My Head

Sex Panther

Have you ever gone to the gym and picked up on a scent that closely resembles a septic tank, or maybe burnt hair??  You start doing your best “hound dog” investigation, walking with your nose out sniffing and searching.  After a few minutes, you spot the culprit.  It’s not a dead skunk, and it’s not week old fish somebody put in the air vent as a prank.  Well what is it????  It’s the guy – in the nipple shirt, of course – who is trying to hit on the girl shredding calories on the old school Nordic Track.

This guy smells like he just took a bath in Brut Cologne, which – if you’ve never smelled – has the power to bring the dead back to life.  It’s that strong and awful; what a perfect combination.  Back to my original rant, though..  You take one walk in the vicinity of this guy, and it’s an instant headache.  The last thing when I’m sprinting at 30 miles an hour on the treadmill is to take a big whiff of Ass Cologne.  You all know what my girl Sweet Brown would have to say about it: AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT!!!!  The gym isn’t the place for cologne, BRO!!!  And to be honest, the only place for the stuff you’re wearing is the garbage can.  Do us all a favor and disinfect, and don’t bring that weak stuff in here again..

This one is a little less common than some of my other gym pet peeves, but it is equally as harmful to my health.  I don’t know about you guys, but I do not enjoy the feeling of my nose hairs being signed right before my eyes.  It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I’m left Shaking My Head.


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