Me, Gaz and Daz

Here's a little something about me that I hope most would agree with: I take pride in my appearance. Agreed? Good. This leads me onto my experiences today at the local gymnasium. In my mind any chap who wishes to look the part, impress the ladies and feel less like Jabba and more like Shabba probably should visit the gym. I do at least four times a week, with varying degrees of success.

I also like to listen to the various conversations around me while I perform dips, enjoy the Swiss ball and generally swan around in a vest. This being Warrington these conversations vary in quality, but never in humour content. Warrington is many things; parochial, middling, Northern, and unsophisticated but I was sure I'd never come across such brilliance.

More to the point, I enjoy the freeweights. Make no excuses for it. The freeweight section is normally crammed with monstrous chaps who dominate it with testosterone and neckless fashions. Two characters in particular constantly rule this particular roost. A reasonably short chap with no hair and loads of tatoos - built like Fred Flinstone on protein shakes. This is Gaz. Or "steds" or "steddo" as I understand. The other is slimmer and pastier but still fairly mighty. This is my new gym pal Daz. Nice.

So one day there I was - dressed like Billy Elliot - bench pressing some weight when in walks Daz, high fives Gaz and begins to talk:

D: "Alright Steds lad, you out last Friday?"

G: "Sound Dazza yeah I fucking was right. You wouldn't believe it mate. All the fucking shit happens to me."

D: (excitedly) "Was it that bird mate?"

G: "Fucking right Dazza, see what happened right"

D: "Yeah mate....what happened right?"

G: "Fucking you'll never guess what happened right!"

D: "Fucking what happened Gaz, what happened right?"

G: "Well this bird right?"

D: (spits) " Yeah right?"

G: "This fucking bird, I'd smashed her all round me living room with me cock and the silly slag wouldn't suck me off! I'd left her walking like John Wayne, John fucking Wayne, and she wouldn't suck me fucking prick!"

D: (shocked at such an affront) "I hope you told her mate - this was the same one who said get off the steds - you can't do that you're fucking name is Steds!!"

G: (Nods sagely) "Yeah mate - just got some more blood in it and told her to fuck off or suck me prick"

Class. Needless to say Gaz got his cock sucked and was content with his lot in life.

Let's flash forward to today now. 8:15pm. I'm doing situps. I'm wearing a vest and jogging bottoms. I look camp. Daz swans over to me and says:

D: "Alright big lad, do you live here or something? Fucking got some good guns going there! How much do you lift?............."

Great stuff. Daz and me. Me and Daz. The massive powerhouse payroll clerk who can chest press 140kg. Maybe if I keep this up I can be their new mate. I've clearly passed some sort of test. Maybe in time they can call me "Brains". I can but cross my fingers and pray.