Comedy Corner: Back on the treadmill again

“Hey, ya’ll! I’m Paula Deen, and on today’s show, we will be having fried pork chops, along with my Mama’s famous apple dumpling pie and fried grits.”
Yes, I am back on the treadmill watching the Food Network again here at the club that is not No. 2.
I have been at this for two months, and instead of losing the intended 10 pounds, I have gained five. Something is terribly wrong with my workout plan, but I just can’t figure it out. I am at the pool daily, lounging around the hot tub, working on my tan. But the pounds are just not coming off. Hmm.
I guess I need to take the gym up on those two complimentary workout sessions with a personal trainer. But they are all so intimidating. I mean, they are all in perfect shape. Secretly, I think they all came out of the womb genetically perfect, and if they did not work out, they would still never need to. You all know the type. But the rest of us have to pass up the chocolate chip cookies and the ice cream. Even on those so-called cheat days.
Ha! That’s a joke, cheat days. Cheat days were invented to give the dieter a ray of light at the end of the veracious dark tunnel of dieting. Eat sensibly throughout the week, and you can look forward to eating anything you want on your own personal cheat day. Well, mine is a Boss Burger at Fosters Freeze with fried mushrooms on the side. Maybe I have too many cheat days?
Anyway, I am on the treadmill and I glance over and see this man next to me, and I notice he has — well, shall I say it? — man boobs. Then, in horror, I realize it’s my reflection in the window. I can’t believe it! Am I at the age where I am battling man boobs?
It must have been that tofu diet I went on last year. Of course, right after that, they came out with another study that men should not eat too much tofu, because it causes estrogen to go bonkers in the male body. Great, now what do I do? I was thinking of liposuction, but what if they sucked out something I might need later?
(Like my manhood? I can just see myself waking up on the operating table and hearing the doc say, “Uh, I think there’s something stuck in the suction tube.”)
So there goes that idea. I guess I will just have to accept that I am at the age I am and live with it. The way things are aging, I am sure Depends are just around the corner.
After writing this, I set an appointment with Marcus, my new trainer. We shall see; we shall see.
Michael Larson is a 14-year resident of Felton and an aspiring comedy writer. He lives with his dog, Blue. Contact him at mi***************@***oo.com.