Dear Gym,



Stop calling me.

I'm never coming back.

Ever.

I endured as much old lady sweat and vagina smell as one can handle and frankly, if I'm going to get off my arse and work up a sweat myself I would rather do it outdoors, goddam walking my dog.

Besides my extreme dislike for the place, I'm pretty sure the free membership (the only thing that got me in there in the first place) would have expired by now and I don't really feel like handing over money to use your sweat-stained machines that cause my body what I see as unnecessary pain.



Goodbye forever, unless god forbid I wake up one morning and read 100+ on the scales. In which case I probably wouldn't actually come back but go on a reality show for fatties and try make some money out of my predicament.