You know who my favorite guy is at the gym? It's the great big fat bastard who's standing around handing out free fitness and exercise advice. The dude's mouth just keeps running, making sure everybody knows what his routine is. Eventually, he'll put the brakes on all this chatter and do about ten seconds of something vaguely resembling exercise, filling the place with the sound of his desperate near death breathing. When he's done, he looks up, all redfaced and drenched in sweat, and between his gasps for precious life giving air, he says "See?...Like...that."
Oh, like that. Thanks dude.
Yeah, I can't stand that guy.
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