WARNING: Those of you who enjoy: pumping, sweating, and feeling up other men should realize I am talking directly and completely about you.

I'm not what you'd call a big guy. I'm what you'd call a freakishly thin, pale, small guy. So I thought I'd work out.

Just entering a gym will elevate your heart rate. It will race as you see the tackiness of the neon, the clinging spandex of the nubile young women, and that strange chemical they pump into the air.

If there's ever a time that you need to see fat naked men, go to the men's locker room. There are guys there who are way to comfortable in being naked. It's like, "Buddy learn some shame like the rest of us!" We all have to take our pants off, but most save the squat thrusts for the stretching mat.

As I run screaming from the locker room I land on the stairmaster. Here I'm greeted by the far more pleasing sight of women in clothing way too small. You can immediately spot the women that are cruising for a date. Saturday Afternoon, full make up, and working it. I didn't think you could sachet on a stairmaster. The worst part is that they want to work out, but they didn't spend the extra bucks on the water proof make up. As their raccoon eyed face paint, streams down their eyes all I can think is, "Where have you been all my life."

In the stream of the workout palace the testosterone river runs deep. Guys are constantly looking for something to be better at. After they've compared most of the body parts the last one is the abs. No, these are not satanic sheep, but the final comparison that can be made. As they hike up their shirt, they grit their teeth, in hopes of revealing a stomach that you could clean laundry on. Mission accomplished, except their laundry tool is more like a sponge and a shout stick rather than the rippled corrugated steel they were hoping for. The scent of abs spreads fast through the gym and soon a crowd has gathered in front of the mirror. They all stand, shirts up, teeth clenched, looking like some constipated chorus line. I know what every woman must be thinking. "I want a date with that sailor."

Too bad ladies, 'cuz they're all incredibly gay.