Showing posts with label SWIMMING. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SWIMMING. Show all posts

Are you sexy when you work out?

23:16:00
Hello. I'm Afam, and I'm sexy. Sexy doesn't touch it really. If there was an adjective that was sexier than sexy then I would use it instead of sexy. That's how sexy I am. There is no man sexier than me. I'm not a sexy beast because I've got a 4 pack that's super imposed on my pot belly of childhood, or because I've got the arms of a kwashiorkor patient, or even because I've got the legs of some sort of insect creature. I'm a sexy beast because I tell myself I am every day; mind over matter and all that.

I feel sexiest when I work out. You see when I jog it out, or do the high knees, or do the ski jumps, or do the power jacks my body gets covered with a fine sheen, brought about by the copious amount of sweat seeping from my pores. When that happens I glow like a demigod and it's acceptable for me to swing my head left and right like to rid my nappy curls of the droplets of sweat gathered there. And when I do push ups, push up jacks, moving push ups, and the hip flexor stretch my muscles bulge with pornographic vulgarity. Yes, there's no time sexier than work out time. These days, I do the insanity and swim. Why do I swim? I swim because it's acceptable to wear next to nothing, and you'd best believe that I've got those barely there speedos on. There's nothing as sexy as nudity. 

I imagine that I'm too sexy to not share my sexiness with the world, so a little while ago I decided to take a few pictures of me working out and put them on here so that you could all admire my apparent sexiness. 

Let's have a look at me swimming shall we?

Ah! That's not very good. That's my constipation face. Yeah, that's the face I make when I'm getting ready to push out a real bitch of a shit. And shit isn't sexy. 2 girls one cup literally killed my sex drive. I didn't get a boner for a week after watching it. And the worst thing about 2 girls one cup, was that my brother's girlfriend at the time, Siegfried the Dragon Slayer, was watching me watch it. She saw me smile when the girls made out and then she saw me retch when they shat into a cup. She knows too much about me that one. I should call her soon.


Well, I suppose this one is sexy in it's own way. I look like I could kill someone, and that's probably because I don't really like the butterfly, even though you get to wind your body like a mermaid or a mammy of the water and what could be sexier than that? All the same, I don't think this is a good look for me. It's more Hitler than Casanova, and more rapey than unsubtle seduction. I'll bite my bottom lip next time.

 And what of when I do the Insanity?

Oh yeah! Look at that smoulder. I'm even giving armpit hair! What could be more appealing than that? And the stains on my shorts are sweat patches. How do you like me now? On a side note, those Jack Wills shorts used to be sweat pants. I snipped them up. Fashion moment? I think so. Yeah. Hashtag Instafashion. #instafashion

This is another good one, lips slightly parted, eyes confused with desire. That's how you make love to a camera. You have to appear slightly befuddled by the idea that you should ever make love to the camera.
This is another great one. You can see my back pimples, and the scar in my lower back from when I got stabbed while clubbing back in the day. 

After reviewing the pictures, I've come to the conclusion that the Insanity is sexier than swimming, because swimming makes you look like a rapist, while the Insanity makes you look like a pervert.

Happy Days,
Afam

PS. The Insanity is a work out DVD by Shaun T. It's very good. I'm already seeing results. 

How to be a Sexual Predator Siren of a Mermaid:

12:19:00
Kilon Sparkles!

For those of you who do not speak Yoruba, a fairly popular language in West Africa, the above phrase means "what is sparkling?" On second thought kilon sparkles doesn't make for a very nice introduction for if anyone asked me what it was that was sparkling 4 years ago, my answer would have been my underwear. You see, 2008 was a very difficult time for me. While my mates were getting tongue piercings and tattoos behind their ears I felt that the best form of rebellion was that which occurred behind zips and trousers. If it was not more luminescent than a mirror ball then it was quite unworthy of housing the Afam jewels for the day. For how would the jewels know how important they were to me if they were not wrapped in materials vaguely reminiscent of the golden lamé shorts made popular by Rocky in the Rocky Horror Picture Show?



I think I'll have to put more work into finding my own unique opening phrase. It is only apt that I sneak in a sneaky thanks to Bobo Omotayo, the writer of London Life, Lagos Living.

It should come as no surprise to you that the actual content of the post has little or nothing to do with the sparkly nature of my underwear. The truth is that I, Afam have just had a little bit of an epiphany. By now you must all know that I, am not and have never been a great dancer. I find it immensely difficult to maintain any sort of control over the greater part of my body parts simultaneously. If by some miracle I manage to perform some skillfull moves with my legs then it is incredibly likely that my head will vibrate like I was in the throes of an epileptic fit. It is because of this intrinsic deficiency that I have enrolled in a number of dance classes. Why is it so serious you ask? Well, I, Afam will tell you. As I have not yet mastered the mysterious art of maintaining the greater part of my hearing in clubs, I am altogether incapable of chatting anyone up, for a conversation littered with "pardons, sorries and could you please repeat thats" is never a great help in stimulating the nethers of anything. Not even a goat will be stirred by those offerings. I have no other choice but to expresss my need for coupledom with my mating dance.


The dance classes have been incredibly beneficial because they have made me at least 2 parts more flexible than I was in the past. I am now so flexible that I am quite capable of doing an imperfect split when very very drunk. It isn't worth the pain to attempt it sober. I would wager that it isn't worth the pain attempting it drunk but drunken Afam has always been a little bit of an over achiever. After a heavy night out I can be seen limping through the streets of Manchester. Is it not tragic?

Even though the dance classes have been rather successful, their success pales in comparison to that of my bi weekly swimming sessions. I was simply delighted to discover that swimming is a great way to improve your back flexibility and your winding and grinding skills. Now, in swimming there is this thing called the butterfly kick. It is the most common stroke in swimming because you do it after you dive for the front crawl, breast stroke, butterfly and you do it upside down when you do the back stroke. If you were to perform this move on land your body rolls up and down like some sexy, sexual predator siren of a mermaid. This is exactly the sort of thing you need on the dance-floor. It says, "a little less conversation, a little more action please." Granted, you might end up with a nymphomaniac but this is always and everywhere a good thing.

 Happy Days,

Afam

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