My personal trainer's motto is: If you don't

My personal trainer's motto is: If you don't have to change your underwear after a workout then I've failed at my job. I was sore all over and just a few gains away from my goal of

chiseling my buttocks to total granite bootyliciousness. I wanted to be a hardass and Bruno, my personal trainer, thought that by next month, I should be ready to compete in the

public restrooms across the MidWest. The world butt-crack nutcracker competition usually ended in a split. My trainer was cheeky. He always yelled "Make it clap!"

And boy did i ever. After winning the competition i went on to the finals in Colorado where Gentrified Brown Eye, the state champion was a shoe in.

Gentrified Brown Eye cried. I tried to comfort him, but winning the finals was as much as a pain for me as it was for him now. I hate to see people suffer, but I couldn't really

give up my crown, as King of Oldies Pop, as much as I felt for Gentified Brown Eye. I had my loyal subjects: the crusty crooners, the geriatric goth rockers, the punk pensioners

, the psychedelic seniors, the hoary hippies, and antiquated alternative rockers - not to be confused with the front porch rockers. Got to keep those whipper snappers off my throne

especially my porcelain one. Damn kids these days, always on drugs or my toilet. What is it about an old man's toilet they won't just leave well enough alone? Damn clique hipsters.

"I'm tired of all the PBR cans scattered around my Prius. Next time I'll give them bread-n-butter pickles laced with LSD" said Fernando. But he couldn't do that he was a Buddhist.