My husband recently purchased this exercise bike for the household. I thought it was the greatest idea since the genius of sliced bread. I’m gonna get my workout ON as easy as 1-2-3, A-B-C, honey! (Said with ghetto twang)
All I have to do now is:
-Get up in the morning
-Take the kid to school
-Take care of the dogs
-Then hop on, and peddle away these pesky pounds!
Well, almost instantly my cerebral cortex screamed, along with another body part:
I haven’t been on any kind of bike in donkey’s years. My hubby warned me that my back, legs, and arms would probably suffer for a while. Well, none of those were a problem. The problem was the violent attack from the bicycle seat on my precious. I could only tolerate the assault for a few minutes before I dislocated my uterus.
I tried everything to make the seat bearable, and not feel like I was being violated. I folded a towel over the seat-no. I placed a pillow under my toosh-not only looked ridiculous, but was absolutely in no way comfortable. Finally, I ran to the internet and found another seat. I found some the same shape, but wider. I thought that would work, but then I saw the seat sent from heaven. It is a seat made without the assault on the crotch part. It’s just two moving butt cheek pieces, and as soon as I clicked the submit order button my birth canal squealed with glee. I would like to meet the person who had the wisdom to make this seat. This creation has put a stop to the senseless intrusive act against my body.
Of course it’s not plush and super comfortable, but what did my fat ass expect. At least I am able to go long enough to work up a sweat, and talk a healthy amount of shit out loud to the dogs, as I catch episodes of The Real Housewives of Orange County. They’ve apparently been playing most mornings because the new season is starting.
When I’m not working out to my O.C. gangsta bitches, I like to put on some Adele, Coldplay, Lady Gaga, Lil Wayne, My Chemical Romance, and a wide range of various others. My tastes are all over the board. Variety is the spice of life, or somethin’, or other.
THE DEVIL a.k.a. Crotch Assaultinator
SLICE OF HEAVEN