the other day i was with nazi trainer. we’re not working out together anymore–now he works on the various parts of me that are strained/tight/hurting. apparently there is such a thing as working out too much. so he’s taken it upon himself to *fix* me. oh, also he thinks the name ‘nazi trainer’ no longer applies and would like a new nickname. after a couple of sessions with him working on my various muscle groups, i think the name ‘torture specialist’ fits. but you know it just doesn’t roll off the tongue like nazi trainer, so i’m inclined to keep calling him that.
i was lying on the table and he pressed into my side.
“YOWZA!”
“does that hurt?”
“um, yeah, like a mo-fo.”
he laughs and presses harder. “how’s that?”
“well now i feel gassy. like i need to…you know.”
“oops. i’m pushing in the wrong place then.” moves hand an inch down. “how’s that?”
“OUCH! sweet jesus that hurts.”
“be quiet and breathe.”
“i can’t.”
“breathe!”
“i can’t. it hurts too much. why do you hate me?”
“BREATHE!”
i inhale. pain. i exhale. pain. but after a few more breaths, the searing pain lessens. i can relax again. then he moves more to the left. stabbing pain, stabbing pain, stabbing pain. i fight the urge to cry out your mother is satan’s life coach! he releases his deathgrip on my side and moves toward my head. side note: nazi trainer would say it was hardly a deathgrip. in fact, he would go on to say that if he was trying to hurt me, he could kill me with his thumb. (me, rolling my eyes).
so now he’s got his fingers pressed on both sides of my jaw. my eyes begin to water from the pain.
“jeez, shauna, your jaw muscles are the tightest i’ve ever felt on someone.”
“i bet you say that to all the girls.”
he laughs and says, “so, you say you’re a buddhist right?”
“well, i’m officially nothing, but i’d like to think of myself as zen-like.”
“then you’re the most stressed out buddhist i’ve ever known.”
ignoring his comment i say, “isn’t the dalai lama the cutest, sweetest man you’ve ever seen. he’s seems so peaceful.”
“yeah, and i would bet anything he doesn’t clench his jaw either. you should try meditating.”
“meditating is for people who have nothing to do. i’m busy.”
“you’re not a buddhist.”
“and you have extremely long nose hair.”
presses harder on my jaw.
“YYOOOWWWW!! MOTHER FU…..”
{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }
OH MY GOD! funniest post EVER!
LOL.
it’s dalai LAMA, you idiot. not LLAMA (like the cud chewing animal).
lol
I can totally see you and Nazi Trainer having this conversation.
Very funny.
Also, it’s kind of sad that you say you’re “officially nothing.”
so….I was reading this and thinking the whole time, “what t-shirt could come of this?”
I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants!!!
You do know you’re going to hell, right?!
lama, llama. you know what i mean!
whew, i got really concerned after the first sentence, “i was with my nazi trainer”. thought this was gonna be some racy, tell all, that led to a new tv series, “Me and my Nazi Trainer Lover”. guess i should check my imagination at the door when i log on.
mind if I steal the “your mother is satans life coach” line? I’m going to tell my husband that the next time he forgets my birthday!
How about a tshirt that reads Satan’s Life Coach?
I like the “Your Mother is Satan’s Life Coach” t-shirt….I miss the easy comebacks from the good old “Your Mama” days of the 80s…
Your Mama is so fat….
Your Mama is so ugly….
Your Mama is so stupid…
I also think you could market t-shirts that just say “Nazi Trainer”
Too. Much.
This is why I don’t work out. I’m a chickenshitfraidycat.
hahahaha! Your mother is Satan’s life coach!!! Thats hilarious, Shauna!
Nazi Trainer T-shirts??? would i get the royalty’s? That is too funny…
Signed Nazi Trainer