Redbull Gives me Wings

You know, a lot of people these days ask me if I am passionate about anything besides Lady Gaga? Cynically, I usually say no, however come to think I'm really passionate about a dear friend of mine these days: Miss Redbull. I love the way it tastes and how the can fits perfectly into my abnormally small hands. Whether she and I casually spend time working at my desk together or I dress her up with a splash of Vodka, we roll together, unconditionally, daily. Chilled. Unchilled. I don't discriminate. I think Redbull could hire me to be a spokeswoman at this point. I can picture the new and improved slogan: I wanna hold em (Redbull) like that Abby does on days. Perhaps I'll even write a cover inspired by Poker Face called My Redbull Face. I used to admire the slogan of "Redbull gives you wings, " but I recently made a treacherous realization that has turned me away from my reliable friend. Redbull gives you wings...**If I could type in small font with that underlying message that credit card companies manage to slip by us all, I would and this is what it would say** Warning: Redbull gives you wings, as in wings of an angel because you are now at risk for Type II Diabetes and you're probably experiencing heart palpitations and approaching death. Redbull Co. is in no way responsible for fatality. So the Lady Gaga obsession has surpassed old and my second passion is slowly deteriorating my health and I'm experiencing heart palpitations, now what?

My third passion, the gym. I love a good self induced ass kicking session and then sitting in the sauna knowing that I am losing water weight and even though it'll return tomorrow, I'm going to be one pound lighter on that scale in 10 minutes ;). But as everything in life, there's some issues with the gym for me lately. There is always a different girl within a close proximity of me talking on her cell phone while "casually" gliding her not so toned legs back and forth on the elliptical. Like I'm sweating to death and awkwardly collecting a puddle on my exercise machine, sorority girl next to me is working her thing and looking like she's approaching being able to wear a 6x again, and Biggest Loser wannabe two people down is working hard today but not so much tomorrow. BUT, bitch a couple machines down is on the phone. Here's the best part, she's usually nagging to some friend on the phone in a manner of "LIKE OMG why the f*ck doesnt he want to spend more time with me? Like I am just so good to him and he just isn't answering my calls." Newsflash honey, based on the fact that you are screaming on the phone AT THE GYM, ON THE ELLIPTICAL, I can't even imagine why he isn't calling you back. I find this scenario the most obnoxious at the gym second to Asians wearing blue jeans while they pump iron. I have to say though, these oblivious bimbos encourage bonding among other disgruntled girls. We all exchange looks that basically say: Yeah girl, that bitch really is screaming on the phone, I'm annoyed too, just keep sweating. I think one day I'm just going to do something really obnoxious and see if anyone takes note or shoots me dirty looks. What if I go to the gym today, move the bicycle close to the wall, plug my lap top into the wall, hook my blue tooth onto my ear and get peddling while obviously working up some serious line of business. I might check your facebook, tweet "Working out," and check my e-mail all while riding that bike. Give me a call, I'll have my bluetooth on, lets talk about who you shacked with last night and OMG why isn't he answering your calls today? Do people answer calls at church yet? Just curious.

Anyway, Redbull stopped giving me wings and bitch on her cell phone is ruining my work out aura. I guess I'll just have to drink water and stop working out. Lame. Atleast it's going to be 80 degrees ish today.