So, I took a spin class tonight. I haven't taken one in some time because they all seem to play the same music. It's like some rule that they are all required to play certain tunes:

- That one Beyonce song
- That tune that sings about all the great bands from the 80s and 90s, which is sung by some band that can't hold a candle to any of them
- "old school" rap, which no one listened to back when rap was popular
- Green Day
- this one song that you'll only hear if (1) you're in a spin class or (2) you're in an X club ... I'd post the words for ya, but there aren't any

So, anyway, I'm in there, and I realize that I also forgot about the Hoot Owls. What are those, you ask? Well, you might not have asked, but I'm gonna tell. The Hoot Owls do this during the class:

Woot!
Yeah!
Hooah!
Yip!
Etc.

I'm not much of a Hoot Owl. I pretty much just watch the clock and wonder how much longer I have to listen to bad music. But, if I were to become one, I think I'd prefer my own twist on the hoots:

Flib!
Dooz!
Quilp!
Brap!

Now, THAT would be a fun spin class. Trust me. Try it out the next time you're in a bar, and you'll see. I might also be able to get a second job as an expressions writer for the new Batman show ... if there was a new Batman show. There should be. So there.

For you Seinfeld fans, the instructor at one point said "it's go time!" I was half expecting Mr. Mandelbaum to come walking in.

Another beauty is that some of the instructors like to sing along with the song. When I was in college, we had a great setup for people that did that.

We: Hey, who sings this song?
Singin' Fool: Um, Green Day
We: Right. Hey, why doncha let THEM sing it!?

I've also noticed two interesting patterns of behavior in the gym.

(1) Seems that the larger a woman's breasts, the more trouble she has with keeping her hair in a bun or scrunchy. It's fascinating. Apparently, the largeness of the breasts pull on the hair or something. I haven't quite figured out the physics yet, but it's an important project, and I'm the man for the study. What's that? Oh, you think they might want to draw attention to their chest? What an interesting concept! Give yourself a gold star!

(2) There's this hecka hot in there, and she's got hair that's a bit below her shoulders. For some reason, she always seems to be pushing it back, as if it's in her face, although it doesn't seem to be in her face, if you know what I mean. What's that? Oh, you think that's related to your solution for situation #1? Interesting theory. Another gold star for you, fine reader!

So, I'm in a bit of a quandry. It's confirmed that Chrissy Hot has moved into my neighborhood. So, now I have the Hot Neighbor and the Chrissy Hot Neighbor. I'm so confused!

Speaking of the HN, I'm trying to get her to take in the latest stray that has moved into my back yard. I've named him Squibble ... although he complains so much, I should probably call him Quibble. His currently resides on the stairs to my basement. No luck yet on getting him in the HN's house.

Oddness - I like the Joaquin Phoenix version of Get Rhythm better than the Johnny Cash version. It's only a matter of time before I get struck down by lightning, I'm tellin' ya.