I was talked into taking a class at the gym yesterday. I went in knowing it was a bad idea...but I did it anyway...I should have gone with my instincts & stayed the hell away. As soon as I turned the corner into the locker room...& this spray tanned woman of about 50 greeted me with a...'Hi everyone' I should have hightailed it the fuck out of there right then & there..

I found myself right next to this enthusiastic ma'am for the duration of the class. One of the first things I noticed as the class started was...she had left her huge necklace on & every time she moved it hit her clavicle with a thud. The necklace was made out of some exotic stones that were gigantic. Remember what Wilma Flintsone's swanky jewels looked like? Yeah...something like that. & when I tell you she had a bony upper chest area...I'm not kidding...with every jump in this god-forsaken class...I heard a bam (see how I worked that right in there?) as rock hit bone...it was throwing off my struggling rhythm & I usually ended up going to the right when I should have been almost puking to the left with the rest of the class.

Funny thing is...I'm going to be sore from this class soon...but right now my clavicle hurts.

& now...my favorite Flintstone's quote:

Fred Flintstone: I'm only one man.
Barney Rubble: Not from the back.