You may not know me personally, but I know you.
You see, I'm one of the young whippersnappers who has the sheer audacity to come into the gym at the wee hour of 5:30 a.m....
I don't enjoy it either.
Old people freak me out.
...and, for some reason...
...you're ALL in my gym at this wee hour of the morning.
It's like I've stumbled upon a reunion with the cast of "Cocoon."
Just for sh*ts, I'm going to come in one day dressed as the Grim Reaper just to f*ck with you.
...good times...good times...
Now..on to why I'm in Hell:
#1) I don't enjoy the fact that when I walk into the locker room, it smells like Vick's Vapo-Rub.
What makes this worse, is that the locker room is right below the kitchen.
So it smells like Vapo-Rub and bacon.
Nothing like a warm feeling of nausea to get you energized for your workout, Floyd.
I hate you.
#2: I don't enjoy walking through FOUR INCHES OF F*CKING BABY POWDER to get to my locker.
Seriously...are you leaking?
Do your sweat glands actually still function at age 92?
..or are you sopping up the residual pee that your Depends Undergarment failed to catch?
Now I smell pee.
#3: I don't enjoy continually hearing about your KP duty when you were in the Navy.
Sure, it was fun to listen to the first time...
...but you've said the same f*cking story to the same f*cking guy (also named Floyd) FIFTEEN F*CKING TIMES.
We get it.
You peeled potatoes on a boat.
MOVE THE F*CK ON TO ANOTHER STORY.
#4: I don't enjoy seeing your old dongle.
For the LOVE OF GOD...
...WRAP THAT GUY UP.
I thought things actually shrunk when you got older.
If that's the case, based on my wiggly length and shrinkage-per-year statistics...
...I should be 114 years old.
I don't even want to imagine you in your youth. I'm guessing you were putting eyes out left and right with that thing.
...by the way...
Did you shave that thing...or did the hair just all fall out?
I mean, Floyd, it looks man-tastic.
(Looking forward to the day when manscaping becomes automatic)
#5: I don't enjoy the fact that you SIT DOWN EVERYWHERE NAKED.
You see, I'd LIKE to use that bench.
But now it has ass all over it.
Your OLD ass.
Your OLD, naked, wrinkly, talcum-powdered, Vapo-Rubbed, manscaped ass.
Motherf*cker....I'm running out of places to f*cking sit in here!
You see, a looooong time ago (you may have been alive and I just missed you retelling the story) Eli Whitney invented this thing called a "Cotton Gin."
This invention allowed cotton to be spun into fabric.
Eventually...this technology led to the creation of something called:
Put on a f*cking TOWEL, Floyd.
I'M BEGGING YOU.
THEN you can sit your powdery flat ass down wherever you want.
...and so can I.
#6: I don't enjoy your 90-minute showers.
It's not like I'm paying for the water...don't get me wrong, here.
It's the fact that I'm in a shower room that slightly resembles the one in most prison films...
...and you were in the shower for ten minutes BEFORE I got there...
...and you're still in there ten minutes after I've left.
This is creepy, Floyd.
a) Get in the shower.
b) Wash your giant dongle.
c) Don't forget to clean inside all your wrinkle flaps.
d) Get the f*ck out.
We're talking 5 minutes...TOPS.
Everything above that means that I think you're stalking out penises.
(Yeah...I'm looking...but it's just that yours is SO GODDAMN FANTASTIC for your age!)
Thanks for your cooperation, Floyd.
I'm going upstairs to have some bacon.
For some reason, I'm hungry.