To the lurking fats: we judge the FUCK out of you at the gym, and here's another story proving why... The influx of new year's resolutionaries hasn't been as bad as I was fearing this year, but they're there. Today this big fat fuck of a guy was huffing it (not really - he didn't even look like he was struggling) on a stationary bike the entire time I was there. Today was my chest and arms day,  a good 1.5 hour session. Afterwards, I had a little shopping to do on the way home. Lo and behold! Who was there? Fatty from the gym. And what aisle was he eclipsing? The fucking CANDY AND CHIPS aisle. Of course he was! And I spotted him just as his grubby, meaty paw was snatching a handful of candy off the shelf and tossing it in his basket. This just happened 20 minutes ago. And the ferocity and speed with which he grabbed and flung that candy was something I'll never forget. We made eye contact and I was laughing and just shook my head. I was close to saying something to him, but why waste the breath? What a piece of shit.  Hey lurking fatties... We have zero confidence in you. I want you out of my sight everywhere, but especially at the iron temple where I go to work. You don't look cute. You don't look fierce. You look as disgusting on the outside as you are on the inside. You're animals. You see the jacked guys at the gym who bust ass and seem to not be paying attention? We are. Big time. And oh the things I think in my head, the vitriol and spite. You'd roll away in tears. And you should! Fucking CANDY after the gym... Jesus tap dancing Christ. And when you do catch me looking your way, it's not because I like what I see, it's because I need that extra umpf I get from the anger that I summon when I realize you are in my gym, disrespecting it with your very existence. The candy aisle... God... Pathetic.