Muscle Tearing, Cardiac Risk Workout.

There’s a new workout I just discovered that ensures you get an all body muscle development. No muscle groups are left out and there are no intervals or sets to worry about. Some running is thrown in to ensure you do not forget to pump the cardio part too. You do need to ensure you have at least one of these equipments to get started. Though for beginners, it is strongly advised to start on the lighter weights like a couple of kg first. You do not really want to overstretch your biceps or triceps while in the midst of a full workout. The last thing you need is to have your spinal disc pop out of its position while doing the grandfather clock routine.

I signed up for a trial membership recently and it was exhausting. The name of the workout is kidscercise. Oh yes ladies and gentlemen I kid, pun totally intended, you not. Kids are your best workout if you do not have the time to head for the gym nor the money or the body. They make you carry them though they can walk perfectly fine, make you swing them like a pendulum in a grandfather’s clock and hang on your neck while your exhausted biceps take a break from carrying them. They work you harder than your gym fitness instructor and they do not give you gentle encouragements to go for that one last bench press. They are relentless and will demand you for one more lift, one more swing, and then before you can even catch your breath, they are back for another round of catch me while I jump off this step.

It’s the ultimate workout series which will leave you wondering which will end first, the workout or your heart. To cap it all, the exhausting workout requires a final a sprint trying to catch one of them running off to complete the full session of anaerobic and cardiovascular workout. I do not recommend you starting off with both a 5 year old and a 2 year old at the same time though I thought it would be a synch. I ensure you, unless you have been a regular gym enthusiast and by that I mean you really working out your muscles and heart and not your eyes, starting off with a 6 months old would be a much better idea and progress along the way as you build up your stamina.

One thing great thing about this workout is you do not need to sign up for any fancy gym membership nor head to one fix location to get your muscles and heart pumping. You can do it anywhere, at home, at the shopping mall, at your friend’s home. The only thing you need though is to get your own kids or borrow one from a friend who actually owns one. You really do not want to end up doing your workouts in prison. I do not think carrying grown men and doing the grandfather clock routine is quite the same.

MDFT

Given the nature of my work, people tend to associate me with a lot of running. By running I mean serious marathon running where you pound the road on endless lengths of miles. The very thought of running makes me ill. My body rejects exercise. I swear every time I go for a run, the distance akin to a marathon runner doing their pre run stretches, I fall sick. My heart migrates to my knees, my kidneys surface to my chest, I forget my mother’s maiden name and I lose all control of my limbs after 5 minutes. If you ever see some guy running like he is trying to fly, feebly flapping his arms, legs wobbling as it strides forward combine with a major asthmatic wheezing, it is probably me. Cruise up and say hi. I’ll try to return the greeting. Do not take offence if it sounds gibberish. It’s a ‘hi’ attempt at my precarious state.

My brains must have been fried to even make a decision like going for a run. What is wrong with it??!! My body isn’t made for such physical test. It is soft and needs a lot of creature comfort like a nice ergonomic shape sofa with plush memory foam cushions to support my heavy head while I lie there watching re-runs of Friends downing a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Chucky Monkey. No, it is not a reference to my chucky state.

So just because I advise customers on their gait, assess their foot type, talk about shoe technology, match their foot to the right pair of shoe while listening to them regale their stories on their runs people assume that I must run too. So where do you run? Are you taking part in the coming marathon? I always tell them the same thing. Different bodies are made for different running distances. Some bodies are made for long distances, some middle distances and some for short distances. Mine’s made for ultra short distances. My specialty event is the MDFT – Mad Dash For Toilet.

My technique for personal best is to down a carton of fresh milk and wait for it. I am lactose intolerant. Then I hold it back till it threatens the last frontier before I do my sprint. Not quite world record yet but I am working on it. I sometimes also compete in the DFLCD – Dash For Last Chicken Drumstick. This requires a lot of agility, speed and brilliant acting. You cannot let your competitors know you are eyeing that very last piece of delicious Kentucky Fried Chicken lying on a greasy plate. You got to act nonchalant, that you have no utter desire for it so that the others will let their guard down before swooping down like an eagle on its prey.

Victory belongs to the fastest. Say’s who this is not the same as an Olympic event. While not quite the gold medal around your neck but then you can’t eat that now could you? What use is that when you are starving? Don’t you dare try for that last Chicken wing, I got my eyes on you.

I Don't Know The Real Name.

I just learnt something odd on a visit to the company’s overseas branch office. While having lunch with some new colleagues I casually asked this new guy who is who when it came to names on the emails I had received from them. As I had just popped into the new office and took a glimpse of everyone there and wasn’t formally introduced, I had no opportunity to learn their names. So the best way was link their faces to their emails as I had been previously corresponding with some before heading over. He looked at me and went ‘I only know their nick names. I do not know their real names’.

I looked at him and burst out laughing as I found the concept hilarious. Imagine you only know all your colleagues's baby names given by family members and when the courier guy comes and say I have a parcel for so and so, the receiving person will come into the office yelling do we know anyone named so and so. My new colleague went on to add his nick name is ABC but his real name is ……..a 250 letter worded name.

Told him his nick name is fine by me. I do not need to learn his real name nor that of the rest of the colleagues. All nicknames suit me perfectly over here! I figured it’s a lot easier to remember 2 to 3 letter names than their actual names with practically all the letters in the alphabet thrown in, some with the same alphabets appearing more than 5 times.

So I guess my previous theory of changing my name to something unpronounceable to avoid getting more work will have to go back to the drawing board. I thought I was a genius! With a difficult name to call the boss would just pick someone else to do the work. You…err…… never mind, Tom you go get this done. But now I know better. He will just probably give me a nick name and I still have to get the work done. Damn nick names.

Dreadful Words & The Opposite Sex

Men dread receiving the following words from the opposite sex in no order of horror.

Nothing is wrong almost always mean EVERYTHING IS WRONG! You are in deep ass trouble and yet you have not the slightest idea what. Which makes it worst. You just turned EVERYTHING IS WRONG into YOU ARE SOOOO DEAD aka you are one step closer to meeting Satan.

I am fine is another variation to nothing is wrong except that you are not in deep a crap hole as the former. Usually when you get this you are mostly in the know of what you did wrong so you are not so dead. You are not scot free but still not in a good place. It just means you need to create a different sort of hole and it affects your pocket. Buy a lot of her favorite flowers. If you do not know what are her favorite flowers then you have taken a step back. You had officially just screwed yourself from this resolvable situation back into the nothing is wrong zone. Hello Satan again.

We need to talk is another one that hardly leads to anything good much less a fulfilling conversation. In fact we need to talk translates into you need to stop talking to each other forever. They usually start out calm for a few seconds leading to confusion and end up with not so much talking just mostly shouting, screaming, name calling, crying and in the end you cannot even recall what the need to talk is all about. Once the talk ends, so does the relationship.

I have a headache. Yes the pail of water dunk on your flames. Make that icy cold water.

Then there is the silent treatment which doesnt involve any words ironically because it is the nuclear holocaust of all words. They all die in this instance and the black and white movie world takes over. You shudder with this cold chill running down your spine. You will shift uncomfortably in your seat, you feel like your underpants has lost all its elasticity suddenly and everything is hanging loose inside including your ding dongs. The ultimate torture until her hand phone rings and it’s her best friend on the line. The sun is out! She is yapping away happily. A ray of hope for you now, fact that she is talking means no more silence and she may even throw you a bone. She hangs up the phone and the sun is engulfed by the massive black hole. No sun, no ray of hope. You find yourself struggling to gasp for air. You are back in North Point holding on to your ding dongs again.

You are my best friend. How does this become the dreaded word? If it is not coming from your other half but someone whom you wish is. It is the sucker punch. Takes the wind out of your sail and you find yourself walking with your head down with hunched shoulders. You become a zombie but not a very good one. You have no wish to go around scaring anyone like a good zombie should. You just hate being the best friend to the opposite sex you are attracted to. A guy cannot be a best girl friend to another girl. Physically it is just not possible. We don’t like to shave our legs.

The F Word Conversation

I never imagine a conversation like this can ever happen but it did and its’ been pretty hilarious to be using the F word without cringing as much especially when the other party isn’t a guy and she thinks it is insanely funny. What was a normal conversation on the internet became pretty out of control because of some emoticon I had showing a Storm Trooper, for the clueless the Storm Trooper is a character from the Star Wars trilogy, doing the humping motion at the car park. It popped out onto the screen after I had unknowingly hit some key word liberating him onto the screen to do his deed.

Now the problem was I had turned off the emoticons on my messenger so I did not have the slightest inkling as to what the other party was seeing on the screen. So when my friend said the Storm Trooper was funny and proceeded to share her version of funny emoticon doing the same motion. This is where it started to get insane as unknown to her, I cannot see any emoticon of hers and all I saw were the words ‘got one for you. f***’ appearing on my monitor.

You can imagine my moment of silence seated staring at my screen with a swear word peering back at me. What? What did I say? It took a whole eternal 2 seconds before it dawned on me it was the key to an emoticon from her. So the moment I turned my emoticon switch back to on and seeing her F*** emoticon, the rest of the conversation went the way of intellectuals. She had a funny looking emoticon, a stick drawing of a man doing the hump and his manhood swinging about like a limp sausage out on a thumping mission.

The F word dominated every sentence that was bounced back and forth with both parties trying to outdo each other with creative ways to throw her F at me and my F on her. ‘You got one funny F***!’ ‘Hit me with your F***’, ‘The Storm Trooper is a stupid F***’, ‘For a good F*** look for…’, ‘I need a good F*** do you have more?’ ‘One good F*** is better than none.’ ‘I have to admit yours is a good F***.’

Of course the inevitable was bound to happen. Keying in both her F*** emoticon and my humping Trooper to see if they both hump in synchronization. I suppose this conversation will go down on record as one with the most sexual innuendos without really going that way. Rib tickling nonetheless which I reckon will go on for another while each time we meet online.

For the record, they do synchronize after a while. Pretty gay if you ask me.

Spectacular!

So it’s been weeks since I started looking young and struggling to keep the goatee from getting jam in the paper shredder in the office. It’s hazardous keeping it to a nice luscious length. Some days it looks cool and my image right, other days it’s just a bad goatee day making me look like a terrorist. But I suppose its worth it as I found out the other day some of my colleagues who do not really know my ancient history thought I was 8 yrs younger than I really am and another pal’s new bride thought I was about that age too. I got to go get myself another dozen of these stupendously miracle eye frames! They say age is but a number. Yeah mine is now minus 8!

The thing that I am still waiting to happen is the hot young chicks bit. So far it’s been mostly the older ladies giving me the eye. Unless you count this cute youngish short chick on high heels who kept checking me out while I was listening to some cds in That CD shop as success, its been not really happening. She had this exotic mix look and was also browsing through a couple of discs wearing a translucent back floral top and a pair of tight jeans. Damn, if I wasn’t on an appointment!

Anyway, back to the older ladies I think it’s due to the spectacular, oh pun absolutely intended, success of the eye wear. They think I am some young dude and the young girls are not keen on young dudes but older men! Damn again! I never ever win!

School Player

It started innocently enough with two of my team members approaching me to join them in a game of table tennis after they had secured the services of another to help them make it a doubles team. And then it began. 'Did you know she was in the school team back in primary school?' gushed one of my team mates on the experience of one those participating in the upcoming game. I think it’s in me not to like losing so I replied instantly ‘I was also a school player in my primary school’. ‘Wow really??!! That’s so impressive!’ ‘Yeah I used to play table tennis in the SCHOOL canteen.’ I added.

You should have seen the expression on my colleague’s face after I said that. I was not sure if she was still impressed or really just stun into silence. I would really like to go with impressed but given the conversation that had just transpired, being stun into silence would really be more appropriate. Just then another colleague who overheard the conversation chipped in, ‘You know, I used to play interschool table tennis, I played it with my friends from different schools at the nearby community centre.’ That just wrapped up all there was to the conversation. We decided it was best to leave her still standing stunned while we headed out for lunch. She should recover sufficiently after we are back.

School seemed such a long time ago and I really remembered those days where we would head to the school early just to catch an hour’s worth of ping pong or table tennis in the canteen just before the school starts for the day. Then there’s always time for a match just right after a paper during the finals examination or in between the breaks before the start of another paper. It was little wonder I never really went far when it came to good grades. My mom never really understood why her hard working son would go to school so early daily but still struggle for a pass grade. I hope she never gets to read this!

So anyway, word got around that we were going to have a round of ping pong right after work and more decided they wanted in. Death matches have been set up and balls of fury, I love that movie and Maggie Q of course, will be served come this Friday. We were talking about the upcoming game over lunch and one colleague lamented that she doesn’t play table tennis and another said we should play basketball because she’s better in that game.

I couldn’t resist it. With my greatest charm and grin, I turned to her and said ‘Basketball? I can play that. I used to be a school player.’