Sunny day ramblings

Its a beautiful day here in San Francisco.  Sun, and its actually warming things.  My fingers are crossed for a fog-less evening too.

Now, the warm weather does bring out the fashionistas here.  And not always in a good way.  I just got done with a grueling workout and I have a memo to Mr. 6’2″ tattooed scruffy butch hottie, also  working out this morning at Gold’s SOMA , – your denim clam-diggers (I’m from the East Coast, that’s what we call capri pants) don’t go with.  This fashion tip coming from someone sporting a bleach-tipped fauxhawk.  Yeah I know. It’s just my personal opinion. Leave a snarky comment if you disagree.
Also at the gym was “hot backpack guide” which is how he describes himself online.  (No link, find him yourself!)  Also tattooed, former Marine (and could be on a recruiting poster), severe crewcut.  We were both doing legs, and he followed me on the butt blaster.  I am not making that up, thats what the manufacturer calls it.  I sat close by doing the hip abductors at that point so I had a nice view of his bubble-icious derriere, to which black spandex clung like body paint.  After he was done, I had to sneak back to see what weight he was doing and it was less than me!   I felt positively verklempt.

Its not just fashion that gets crazy here when its a warm sunny (i.e. very unusual) day.  All sorts of shit happens.  While getting ready for my leg extent set, for which I use the same Bodymasters machine each time in case the machines have any differences in gearings which would make the effective resistance different, I noticed that the maching now says Obeyyourmasters.  On one side, the other still having the original lettering.  Now this was not done by someone on a whim with a marker pen handy.  Someone carefully reproduced the font using, printed the letters, and stuck them on the machine.

I don’t know if I was responding to some not-so-subliminal message, but I eked out another ten pounds per set on that machine today.

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Is it Folsom yet?

I came across a photo that made me think of San Francisco’s Folsom Street Fair in all its hard-muscled fetish-wear Tom of Finland macho fabulousness.

These guys are in training for the NFL Combine (Yo sport-tard, don’t even ask me!) at a private camp called Perfect Competition. It’s America’s answer to Japan’s infamous system of juku (cram schools)  except for muscles and reflexes not brain power.

“At Perfect Competition, they train with specialists, learning tricks that will add a few inches to their vertical jump, teach them how to take the corners on the 3-cone drill and ultimately shave a few tenths of a second off these timed drills.”   Yow, all this stuff about tricks, inches, and that 3-cone drill sounds almost dirrrty!

If any of these guys does not make the draft,  they’ve got some assets to fall back on.  Uh huh!  In the meantime they’re going to be too busy to make it here for Folsom at the end of September, so perhaps we can send them an invitation to Dore Alley instead?

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