Thursday, June 10, 2010

Rocking That Body

Dear readers,

As it may (or may not) have occurred to you, I'm not very fat, though I'm not exactly the fittest person. Just the other day I was wearing shorts and noticed...

Jiggly thighs. Like quivering slices of bacon, I hit them, and they went boing-boing-boing, vibrating with some weird frequency.

Heck, if I hadn't been so concerned about how flabby they were, I might've even had fun jiggling them.

Anyways, I was indeed concerned about them, so I decided to hop onto my mother's exercise bicycle. Mmm it came with a pseudo-leather seat so that I could feel better about it. Setting my time to 30 minutes of fierce biking, I mobilised my thighs.

Oh wow. At first it was easy. I breezed through 50 cycles in a few minutes. I was going so fast, I could've powered my mobile phone for a while. Then I noticed something.

The "difficulty" wheel was set at 1. 1 out of 8 levels. Dang it, I knew it was too good to be true. Sighing, I cranked it all the way to 6, just to make them muscles suffer. SUFFAH, I tell you.

Oh dear mothership, I felt the strain set in a while later. It built up gradually and ate into the flesh, pulling all those muslces into one massive crying entity. I felt the jelly in my thighs die.

After a while, I got used to it. However, sweat was starting to form now. All over too. The hands, the legs, the forehead. I started to glisten with sweat. Mmm. Shiny. That was probably the only thing that distracted me from my dying legs. Still, I cycled on, on the bicycle that didn't move. Faster! I urged myself. Faster! I pushed as hard as I could, trying my best not to tweak the dial back. I couldn't lose to a bicycle and my jiggly thighs. I just couldn't.

Finally, I stepped off the machine half and hour later. Amid the cocoon of sweat, I could feel the thighs shrink just the tiniest fraction of a centimetre. Still. Better then nothing.

I slapped the thighs, yelling "Who's da man? Huh? Huh?"

"You...are..." they jiggled back.

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