Do you watch Dancing With The Stars?
Do you consistently ask yourself while watching the aforementioned show why you’re watching the show? Do you find yourself wondering how such a flimsy piece of entertainment has become a ratings powerhouse? Do you find yourself drawing the shades so your neighbors won’t see you watching? Or do you pontificate aloud about how all the other contestants must be seriously contemplating lopping off an arm, a leg or another significant body part in an attempt to compete with the buck-toothed, ex-McCartney lover with one leg?
Well, I do.
You may recall back in February when I spotted Ian Ziering working out at my gym.
It was, to say the least, shocking that one of the stars from Beverly Hills, 90210, a guy with tons of syndication money arriving at his mailbox daily, would settle on working out at a Magic Johnson owned 24 Hour Fitness club.
But that seemingly, was just the beginning.
The chain of events, which has recently been revealed to me goes a little something like this:
I work out.
Let me just put that out there so you can think about it for a moment. Yes, I get up early on a daily basis and I go to the gym and I work out and pump iron and often yelp when I bang my right knee into a variety of metal objects. My right knee loves to smash itself against such things. In fact, it’s my bad knee now, due to such activities. But I work out. And you must accept that before I may continue.