Sunday, July 09, 2006

I still think the word "pedometer" sounds pervy

Do you like walking or jogging, but feel the experience would be enhanced by a tinny electronic voice and canned music? Do you feel a need to somehow validate your exercize routine by monitoring it with a gadget, but don't feel like looking at it? Then this Talking Pedometer with Music Clock is just the thing for you.

Just press the button, and it talks to you about your workout!

"You have walked 5,339 steps. The distance is 1.18 miles. Good job. At your pace, you have just about burned off the calories in a slice of bread. I'm guessing you'll negate it twice over with whatever you're going to gorge yourself on as a reward for this weakly little amble. What, you don't really think you're getting an aerobic workout from this half-hearted waddle around the block, do you? I know it's a little beyond what you're used to, that little promenade you make between the TV and the fridge during every commercial break, but still.

"You're taking a break? Already? For fuck's sake. You jog thirty feet and you're already sweating Crisco. You're pathetic. No wonder you can only attract men with pictures of dragons on their walls.

"What's that? You say this is about health? I bet it is. You show me a woman who exercizes and diets for her health and I'll show you a heterosexual man who reads Playboy for the articles.

"But walking and jogging are great, aren't they? So wholesome and easy, so friendly and uncompetitive. Really, you're just competing with yourself. Just think of it as a race against evolution and nature and God and this horrible body and weak moral fibre they dropped on you. You've signed up for a lifetime of warfare against your own urges and metabolism, and judging by just how much bounce their is in your step I'd say you're losing, fatty. Fatty fatty fat fat.

"Not that I expect you to keep this up for a lifetime. You and I both know that in about two weeks you're going to throw me into the basement to rust and gather dust beside your Ab-roller, your Thighmaster and your Bowflex.

"Oh yeah. I play music too, don't I? Here we go: dee dee doo dee deeee."


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