Do you suck?  Be honest with yourself, do you? 

Guys, are you a flacid little wank, only your not so little on behalf of that big-ass ”dickadoo” you got bulging outta that short-sleeved button down that makes yer JC Penney clip-on look all little and shit?  You all remember what a “dickadoo” is, don’t you?  You know, when a dude’s belly sticks out further than his dick a do? 

Or ladies, are you fat AND loud, and wear low-slung, hip-huggin’ jeans with a fuchsia thong and two inches of back-fat, a half-inch of side-slop, and what looks like white jelly but is in fact an entire extra ass that is hanging off your stomach and over the front of those jeans, which are at least six sizes too small?  

Now, I don’t mean YOU personally, of course, but statistically (and realistically), I do mean one out of every two of you.  Not making this shit up people, we’ve reached the 55 percent mark.  And by 55 percent, I mean that’s how much of the US population is overweight or obese (meaning so fat they are unfuctional.  In other words, can’t wipe their own ass).  What’s even more fucked up however, is that while everybody knows that obesity is the leading cause of everything on the planet, there’s no telling what other conditions most people are dealing with on top of their jelly-rolls and dickadoos; yet I’m wondering if there might be a connection between the above and the $14.7 zillion Pfizer raked in last year.  I also heard McDonald’s didn’t have a bad fiscal year.  Hmm, weird.  Weird my ass!  For fuck’s sake people, it’s time to open up those huge, stankin’ asses, and remove those empty melons.  We need to get a grip, and I think that my proposed solution is going to surprise the piss out of you. 

So pull those pants back up past your exposed ass-crack, and wrap that thong back into the jelly roll it came out of and get relaxed.  I’m actually going to defend (a very few of) you…sort of.  What I mean is that the problems we’re facing in this country are not solely the fault of fat people.  In fact, one of the biggest issues that’s been created is on behalf of the non-obese/overweight population, who have vilified, at times victimized, and have undoubtedly turned overweight/obese people into the overwhelming number one target of discrimination.  People who are fat are discriminated against in ways that many of you may never know, including myself, but the ones who have experienced it will, and it is rampant.  The reason this is happening is because fat people are made to feel that the entire problem is caused by their behavior, and they are effectively being ostracized from higher positions in society at an alarming rate.  Look, I’m definitely not defending the huge portion of you losers who make up most of the 55 percent of you sloppy, lazy, human buttholes, who ironically cannot wipe your own, but the real problem here is socio-economic, and it’s the poor and middle classes, who are the bulk of America, that are getting stuck and fucked when it comes to any type of health/nutrition education, and even if they were given access to the information, they can’t afford to eat that way.  And that, my friends, is not funny.  Especially when considering that the wealthier, educated, upper class are actually getting healthier, in most every place but Kansas City.  Seriously, when looked at closely, it is easy to see the connection that’s being made between ecomomics and health-care.  And let’s certainly not forget the $1 trillion agriculture business of packaged fast foods.  They aren’t exactly dumbfucks when it comes to keeping all you fuckers dumber than the Hamburger Helper box you’re eating out of. 

Think about the people you know who eat fast food (including yourself).  Those people, and you, probably eat fast food most days of the week.  Otherwise, they probably don’t eat fast food at all.  How do I know this?  Because I know the 90 / 10 rule, which states that 10 percent of fast-food consumers are eating 90 percent of the product sold.  It should be fairly obvious.  Most people either eat that garbage all the time, or don’t eat it at all.  So if you are one of the 10 percenters, and you DON’T thing the food marketers are onto you and studying you like a lab rat, then your fat and stupid.   

So what do we do?  Well, there’s more to this story, and then I’m gonna tell you. . . one week from today, in Part II of “I’m Tired of Being Fat and Nasty!” 

So stay tuned my new Frothy friends, and don’t forget to go to www.TrainSmartKC.com to get this week’s free workout, plus other top-notch health and fitness info!

Quick note to T-Dogg: a Frothy Girl has no resemblance to, or in no way is anything like a Rusty Trombone or a Dirty Sanchez.  Get your mind out of the gutter, fucking degenerate.  T-Dogg, by the way, is a buddy of mine who has the dirtiest looking porn-stashe I’ve ever seen, is about the size of an out-of-shape NFL offensive lineman, smokes two packs a day while playing video games, and SHE can usually be found snoopin’ around a trash bin near you. 

Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Boner, pronounced with an owner.  As in, “would the owner of the blue Chevy that’s parked in my neighbors yard please get off of the sidewalk.”  And while the same blue Chevy definitely has a sticker of Calvin pissing on a Ford logo placed prominently on the back window, I’m not sure if it has a scrotum attached to it, which I thought was a fuckin’ hilarious blast in your post last week Shannon.  Yes, most of you probably know Shannon as the editor of FrothyGirlz.com based on the fact that you are more than likely at that site right now reading this.  I’m only clarifying this because I do have one faithful reader who is probably in his cubicle reading it off my site–which resembles the inside of an unflushed truck-stop toiletbowl compared to the Lamborghini that these ladies have earned the right to drive at FrothyGirlz!  In other words, it’s a real honor ladies, and I appreciate you allowing me to drop in.  So I better tell you my schtick before anyone sees that pic of the rusty van with ”Free Candy” spray-painted on the side of it, notices my name is the Boner In Sweat Pants, and goes calling the cops.  Not that I’d blame you, but I’m actually what some people might modestly refer to as a guru.  Either that, or an asshole.  That’s right, I’m a real Dick Simmons, only I’m not flaming, and typically my balls aren’t found squirshed up against my pasty white man-loins as I go prancing around to the oldies, or whatever the fuck that dude did.  Rather, I tend to be more on the side of promoting health and wellness.  It just so happens that I’m doing so in one of the fattest cities, in THE fattest country, on the planet.  That’s not my opinion, it’s a fact.   So if it offends you, then fuck you.  You probably are fat.  That’s ok though…I’m here to help.  I really am, but if the truth is too much for you to handle, then I suggest you open that fat-ass, and insert head now.  You see I don’t give a goddam about being your friend, and when it comes to exercise and/or physical movement (or lack therof), most people around here either suck at it, and therefore a.) don’t do it, or b.) do it daily, but in a fashion that is so non-sensical and ridiculous, you’d think I had to be making shit up.  I’m not.  Quick example, even though this has nothing to do with exercise, it’s just too good not to share.  I’m not exactly “technically savvy,” however, I’ve moved beyond the ”technically retarded” stage, which I was at for quite some time.  Anyway, since I’ve begun to figure this shit out, I noticed one of the more hilarious things I’ve seen lately, and that is the keyword(s) that somebody used the other day to have linked their way to my “high-quality health and wellness education web log.” 

It was Hitler’s boner. 

Fucking Hitler’s boner?!?  How great is that!?!  Who the fuck do you think would be wanting to find Hitler’s boner?  What, was Hitler’s hard-on not turning out any results?  Was Adolph’s Member not specific enough?  Hitler’s boner.  Too fucking good!!!  I’m dying to meet the freak that wanted to see Hitler’s fucking boner!  Next time maybe you should punch in “Hitler’s canned mushroom.”  Forget the fact that I wrote a post once titled “Bitch, You Can’t Play Hitler’s Harmonica,” this motherfucker was looking for ”Hitler’s boner?!?”  What the fuck?  Do you think they were actually trying to find my page, just in case I was some anti-semite erection-loving freak, or do you think it was an accident made by some dude who lives in his mom’s basement, has some weird, sick and twisted fetish, and felt the need to do a quick Google search for “Hitler’s boner” before going out and polishing off that killing-spree he started?  Fucking awesome.  Hitler’s boner.  Too good. 

Alright Frothy friends, that’s enough for me today, but because I never got back around to explaining exactly what a real BISP is, I’m leaving you with this perfectly-put explanation. 

It was nice talking with you, and feel free to visit my more serious side at www.TrainSmartKC.com.  Enjoy this classic description of “Gym Guy.”

Gym Guy is a BISP

If you want to be healthy, you better get the fuck out of here.  Out of Missouri anyway.  Settle down Kansans, you’re not exactly topping the charts either.  God damnit, I don’t sit here and say everybody is fat, nasty and stupid for nothing.  Shit, it doesn’t do a damn thing for my health.  In fact, I’ll be the first to admit to everybody that it’s time for me to start getting my shit back in order too, but I have less to do with another year of patheticism in a long list of fat-ass losers, than most of you do, and that’s just because I don’t smoke…cigarrettes.  Look people, I don’t put everything into these annual rankings, but what my eyes see on a daily basis and what the nonprofit United Health Foundation comes up with each year are too close in accuracy to go patting anybody’s back-fat rolls.  The annual ranking, in actuality, may just be a bit more precise than people might think.  Every year, the UHF looks at 22 indicators of health, including everything from how many children  receive recommended vaccinations, to obesity and smoking rates (cigarettes only), to cancer deaths.  So you want the bad news or the worse news first?  The bad news is that the good news is that we (Missouri) was probably ranked way too fucking high, landing at a despicable 38th unhealthiest state out of 50.  The worse news is that the two twin killers–smoking and obesity–while going down over the last 20 years in most states, is only getting worse in good ol’ Mis-er-y.  And listen, if you just so happen to live on the Kansas side of the state line, you might as well count your own fat ass as part of the problem.  You’re not off the hook just because of one road that divides our metropolitan area.  You need to get off your fat, lazy fucking ass too and be a part of the solution, not just another dumbfuck onlooker.  At the rate things are going, by 2018 the estimated cost of annual health care for obesity-related conditions alone, will be more than $344 billion.  Call me whatever the fuck you want, but that is one grotesquely-fat motherfucking country!

It doesn’t end there either.  Scores for each state are determined by gathering data from a variety of government and nongovernmental databases and then calculating how much each state is better or worse than the national average for each measure.  The scores take into account quite a broad variety of health measures, including rates of infectious diseases, number of preventable hospitalizations and even levels of air pollution.  So this isn’t just some shitty magazine sending a couple of dudes out to create a list of opinionated bullshit.  The rankings are in fact a collaboration between the foundation, The American Public Health Association and the Partnership for Prevention, a coalition of businesses, nonprofits and government agencies.  I couldn’t tell if American Public Health Association Executive Director Dr. Georges C. Benjamin was joking or not when he said that “we’re at at the point where we recognize we have a crisis.”  Well that’s good Dr. B.  Did you also hear that we landed on the moon, and that the world wasn’t flat afterall?!?  Anyway, he goes on to say, “It remains to be seen if we’re in it for the long haul.”  Hmm, is that kind of like it remains to be seen if the Chiefs go to the playoffs this year?  I mean hell, we’re not mathematically eliminated yet…are we?  Not that it matters.  I’m a Boner, not a doctor–yet I was created from the sperm of a doctor, and the egg of a nurse practioner, so let me go ahead and take this one: We’re past the long-haul Dr. B.  Our fat-asses are in overtime, and until we midwesterners, many of whom still take pride in their small-minded, old-fashion ways, with their sunburned necks, get a fucking clue, I don’t see that $344 billion being freed up anytime soon.  On the bright side, we’re not Oklahoma, the 49th unhealthiest state in the union, but we do have Oklahoma Joe’s on our side!

Fuck being fat!  Do something about it.  Start by signing up for the mailing list at www.TrainSmartKC.com.

This is one of my all time favorite photos.  And no, parents, that’s not my fucking van.  It belongs to the dude who coaches your son’s little league team, but doesn’t actually have a son on the team!  Oh quit being such a bunch of pussies, he’s totally legit! 

Anyhow, the point that I’m trying to make is this: The average American, plus dudes who roll in rusty vans that have “Free Candy” painted on the side of it, spend as much time in their cars each year, that it equates the duration of time that it would take a person to earn TWO Ph.Ds…in one year.  What do you do with that time?  Except you Quesadilla Larry, wherever you are.  Whatever it is, I’m not going to make any judgments.  Maybe you roll in an ice cream truck, playing whatever shitty, kid’s-amusement-park-music those things play, and call yourself Mr. Happy, and, as much as I’d like to, I still won’t judge.  But I would ask everyone to ask themselves the question: Could that time, the time that ultimately adds up to so many years of your life, be spent in a more productive way?  If you say no, you’re lying.  Either that or you already know where I’m going with this…and you’re still lying.  Think about it.  Think of how many things could be accomplished if that time were spent even a little bit more efficiently.  Most people waste it, check that, most people actually get worse than they already are.  For example, just today I watched some dude cram a Big Mac down his hole while washing it down with a bucket of Coke in one cup holder, and one of those giant fucking Red Bell cans in the other (for energy, of course), and then hammerin’ down what appeared to be an ice-cream cone full of mayo-naisse to polish it all off.  And that was just in the time it took for the light to turn green.    And yes, I’m sure you all can think of a million other ways that people could be using that time to make themselves worse, (feel free to send some of those ideas to me at www.aler, oh nevermind.  Anyway, there are not only an unlimited number of ways to use it to make yourself better, but it is actually one of the best times to spend making yourself a little healthier.  Take breathing for example.  How many times during the course of a normal day do you spend being conscious of even one breath you take?  Something to think about, considering most of you can only answer none, or else you’re lying again.  Most people are not conscious of even one breath, some people never are.  Here is an interesting tidbit: Did you know that breathing is the one function of the human body that can be performed both consciously and unconsciously?  If you said yes, you are clearly a pathological liar, but it’s true.  Again, think about it.  Even if you just turned everything off, radio, cell phone, the voice in your head, for 5 minutes at a time, and used it to practice quieting your mind, would that not make you a healthier person?  Remember that Principle of the North Star I was talking about in the last post: Every single move you make, throughout the course of your lifetime, is moving you in a direction that is either better or worse, healthier or unhealthier, smarter or dumber, and by the number of dumbass-fucks that there are in Kansas City alone, I know that time is not being spent in a way that I would describe as anything but horrendous.  My method of choice: audiobooks.  That’s all I listen to when I’m in the car.  Thanks to iTunes, and the demise of radio, I listen to hundreds of books over the course of the year, which is a big fucking difference when compared to the average 10 to 20 books that I read on an annual basis.  That might not be the thing that you want to do, but I would challenge everyone to try just this one simple exercise, that really isn’t so simple.  For the next 30 days, while in the car, at any point throughout the day (but the goal has to be every day for 30 days in a row), try to be conscious of just one breath.  That’s it.  You can pay attention to two if you want, but the challenge is just to be aware of one, single breath.  If you can do that for 30 days, I guarantee you that you will feel different.  And very rarely do I ever guarantee anything, unless it has to do with a dude that calls himself Mr. Happy and drives that bitchin’, rusty van, and coaches little league teams despite not having any kids on the team! 

Don’t forget to check out www.TrainSmartKC.com for this week’s free workout.  It gets posted tomorrow, and every Tuesday.  Gracias!

Kansas City is a rough place to be during this time of year.  I don’t know of anyone who likes the fact that it’s dark at 5:24 p.m., and only getting darker until we hit December 21.  It can take a toll on a person’s health, and I’m not going to bullshit anyone and act as though it doesn’t, shouldn’t, or won’t.  In my first post after declaring that I was going to cover topics that are more relevant and serious, this is the first one, and I do think it’s important. 

Next month will mark my eighth full year as a trainer.  It’s the only thing I’ve ever done.  Over the course of the last eight years, very rarely have I ever seen anyone thrive, or make dramatic improvements to their physical health during the winter months.  Besides the obvious reasons, such as having less daylight time, worse weather conditions, etc, it is because people wind up spending time and energy protecting the other dimensions of their health.  Let me explain.  You see, when I speak of health and/or wellness, I am addressing the subject from four major dimensions.  The four dimensions include physical, emotional, mental and spiritual.  To define exactly what I mean when referring to each one, the physical is the most obvious, yet it runs deeper than just what one sees on the surface, or one’s physical appearance.  It also includes the quantity of energy that you have available.  As for the emotional, I am referring to the quality of energy (negative vs. positive).  From a mental standpoint, I would try to determine the focus of one’s energy (scattered, or laser sharp).  And as for the spiritual, let’s just say it’s the force behind a person’s energy (passionate, committed, connected, etc.)  Ultimately, it becomes very clear that the primary determinant of overall health stems really from one’s energy.  And while most people would certainly agree with me, very few of them actually care, as it always seems to come back to how they look.  You’re gonna have to get over that.  There is no destination or arrival point when it comes to one’s health, and so you’re never gonna get there and be finished.  Health is a dynamic, ever-changing state that can fluctuate day to day, hour by hour, even from one minute to another.  It’s the Principle of the North Star.  Every single move you make, every decision, regardless of size, is either moving you in a direction that is for the better, or backing you away from where you want to be.  Right now, I’m in a bad fucking mood, and I attribute much of it to the fact that I fucking hate this time of year.  However, I am doing my damndest not to complain about it too much because it is completely out of my control.  Therefore, every time I do think about it, or claim how much it sucks, my state of health is getting worse at that moment.  You might be wondering, well what does that have to do with me?  My response would be nothing, asshole, but since this is my blog, and the readership still sucks, I can use it to vent a little bit.  And for those of you who don’t have shit for brains, you might be able to make the connection as to how your shitty attitude can only be toxic for your health as well.  So what’s the answer?  What the fuck are any of us supposed to do about it?  Well, that’s a good question Boner.  Personally, I’m not so sure I shouldn’t move.  I’m serious.  I was listening to some audiobook the other day in my car, which is something I would recommend that everyone do (turn their car into a rolling university, and I’ll come back to this point in a minute), but the author was telling about how he was from Wisconson, and had lived there for the majority of his life.  It wasn’t until his 35th year or so, that he finally realized that he only enjoyed being there (based mostly on the weather), for about four out of the 12 months in every year.  When he finally took the time to do the math, it occurred to him that he had been spent the majority of his life being unhappy, and he up and moved to Arizona, where he has loved it ever since.  Yes, that’s drastic, but think about it.  I know very few people who still like the holiday season.  I know I dread the shit out of it, yet they keep coming year after year after year, and although they are unavoidable, I sure wouldn’t mind them nearly as much if I were in Arizona too.  I realize I might be rambling a bit, but who gives a shit.  I’m assuming that the one faithful reader that I have is the only one listening to me gripe anyway, and if you are, you probably remember me writing essentially the same shit last year, but I guess to come full circle with my original point, my physical state is slipping a little as it naturally does after the end of daylight savings, and that has a direct affect on the other three dimensions.  My point: try to find some balance.  Be aware of the fact that we, as a species, are affected by the seasons.  Know that Seasonal Anxiety Disorder (SAD) is not just some bullshit syndrome like chronic fatigue or ADD are (ok, maybe there are very few exceptions, but for the most part, I think those ARE bullshit syndromes).  So instead of acting as though these things are irrelevant, and beating yourself up for losing that bikini body, why not just deal with reality, and focus more on improving the other elements of health and wellness during this time?  That doesn’t mean you should let yourself go physically, and that DEFINITELY doesn’t mean that I’m not going to come after you with a meat cleaver if I hear anyone tell me that its the holidays that fuck them all up.  Get that shit out of your head!  Who gives a fuck if it’s Thanksgiving or Christmas?  Those are two fucking days out of 365, and they don’t mean you have to become a fat, sloppy pig just because everyone else is telling themselves it’s ok.  Stay the course, work hard to maintain, and don’t worry about how much you weigh.  Actually, I take that back, if you are morbidly obese, then work hard to change that.  But also know it requires the other three dimensions to do so, and that this may be the time of year where you can excel at improving those areas of your health for the sake of being able to thrive once again come April.  After all, you’re not going to be sporting that banana hammock that looks like it was made out of a piece of dental floss anyway.  Unless, of course, we moved to Arizona! 

Be sure to check out www.TrainSmartKC.com, and tell all of your (imaginary) friends to do the same.  If for no other reason, I can assure you that it’s the only place that you can get the highest quality and potency of Vitamin D (pharmaceutical grade), and it’s the least expensive.  For those who don’t know, Vitamin D is hands down the one must for everybody, as we are unable to get it naturally for at least the next four months, and the D deficiencies that nearly everyone has is now known as THE primary source for many of the conditions we are developing that have reached epidemic proportions.  Of course, VEMMA does have 1000 IUs in every 2 oz dose, and it is still the most comprehensive supplement that there is, but it you’re too cheap and stubborn to go with the VEMMA, at the very least take the Vitamin D!  Also, don’t forget that I am posting a free Workout of the Week every Tuesday, which I think is probably the most valuable thing on the site.  Despite the fact they are free, I am not watering them down in any way.  In fact, the only difference between the free W.O.W, and the individualized workouts, (which are also very inexpensive), is that the free workouts are obviously not tailored to anyone’s particular goals and/or needs.  Yet for those who are already active, and don’t have any unique circumstances, they are just as good.  So again, that’s www.TrainSmartKC.com.  Did you get that?  www.TrainSmartKC.com.  One more time…just kidding.  Now get to it!

Fuck you.  No offense to approximately one percent of you reading this, but to the other 99 percent, go fuck yourself.  You are a bunch of brain-dead, sloppy, degenerate shitbags, and I’m tired of sharing this city with you.   The shit’s not funny any more.   You’re disgusting, and as I get ready to turn 31 in 17 days, which is still young as hell (ladies?), but old enough to have some experience under my belt (as opposed to a belly that hangs over my belt), I’ve made some major life-changes recently, and am deciding to go from being just a regular ol’ sweat-pant sportin’, erection poppin’ observer of ass-clowns, to an actual ‘teaching-penis,’ who is going to take a little bit more of a serious approach in the subjects I choose to take on.  Part of it has to do with the fact that there is already so much bullshit floating around, that it truly has become difficult to navigate the mucked-up waters of health, fitness and wellness, and what those things even mean today.  The other part of it has to do with the fact that we are in the midwest, which is another way of saying that we are surrounded by the a good chunk of the country’s simple-minded, imbred, ignorant fucksticks, and that I’ve decided that I’m just gonna let natural selection run its course, and assume that they will all be extinct in another few years anyway.  Listen, I don’t say that because I’m hateful.  I’m not.  In fact, I’m anything but; however, I’m a realist, and I don’t give a damn how much denial any of you are in, or what excuses you’ve convinced yourself of, I am going to set the record straight right out of the shoot: nine out of 10 people reading this right now are in HORRIBLE shape, and that means you’re probably not the one person who can go around with a big shit-eatin’ grin on your face thinkin’ ”That Boner is so right!  I really am the only healthy bad-ass in this fat fuckin’ city.”  And don’t get me wrong, I haven’t been so great myself, but I don’t hold a candle to the majority of you.  Nevertheless, we all got some work to do, and that’s what this forum is going to be about from this point on. 

That doesn’t mean that I’m not going to continue to be myself.  I like to use “peppery” language as one kind person put it.  That’s who I am, and I’m not gonna try to be some sugar-coating pussy that I’m really not.  But I am going to steer the discussion to one that is more serious.  I’m not gonna bullshit any of you: I have to appeal to a wider audience.  If you don’t already know, I’ve turned much of my attention to reaching more people, and trying to offer high-quality health/fitness education to people who I feel deserve to have access to it, regardless of where they fall in the socio-econimic heirarchy.  To do this, I’ve been pushing the shit out of my new website (www.TrainSmartKC.com).  And in order to make the website as valuable a tool as it can be, I have to have a blog (or forum), where ongoing conversation can take place.  This said, I thought about retiring the BISP Blog forever, and starting fresh with one that doesn’t have the word Boner in it at all.  But I just couldn’t do it.  Just as I was getting ready to start over again, I glanced down at the bottom of the BISP page, only to notice that it’s had almost 2,500 hits in just over a year’s time.  Keep it down, IT asshole, I know that’s not shit, but it’s more than zero, and so why not try to build on whatever momentum rattails and dudes who work on in jeans has already built for me?  Like I said, I don’t plan to tone it down much, other than I really do plan on turning this into KC’s foremost blog on health/fitness/exercise news you can use.  So, in conclusion, no more long absences.  This is the officially blog (for now) of www.TrainSmartKC.com.  The info will be more serious, more useful, and more thought-provoking.  It will also be more regular, as I will never again have a shortage of topics that could be touched on (as was the case before).  If that bums you out, then fuck you.  We’ve got to do something about this ”health-disaster zone” that we are living in, and it’s going to take more than F-bombs, and hard-ons to get the job done.  Let the change be now official: The Boner In Sweat Pants, is now to be referred to only as Professor Bisp.  And if anyone asks you what Bisp means, just tell them that it stand for the “Best Information a Stupid Pussy (like you) will ever get!”

Thank you, and have a nice day.

First, I want to give a shout out to the one faithful fucker who has logged on to this website nearly every day since last April; checking-in to see if the Boner had made his triumphant return, only to have his hopes and dreams smattered for the better part of the last six months.  Thanks dude, I’m not sure who you are, but it doesn’t matter; I think you’re bad ass.  The reason for this extended episode of erectile-dysfunction however, springs mostly from the recent topics that I’ve felt were important to cover, even if they didn’t have anything to do with dumbfuck asswipes who have famous mustaches.  See, truth is, there is some money to be made in this here “health and wellness” industry.  Shit, you’re fat aren’t you?  Statistacally speaking, two out of every three people have to answer that question with a definite yes.  And was it not you who came out of the closet after realizing that you were a repellent to the opposite sex, only to find later that neither sex wanted anything to do with you or that mustard stain on your shirt?  See, the polls are showing that there are a lot of you out there, and I’m simply trying to take advantage, and cash in on all of you sloppy bastards, word? 

To do this most effectively however, I thought it best to look back to the iconic figures of yesteryear; the ones who shaped, molded and paved the way for those of us who would follow in their footsteps.  I’ve heard it said that to be great, one must stand on the shoulders of a giant, and today, that giant is you Dick Simmons!    For all that you have done to help create what we ALL know WILL be the next trillion dollar industry, from your poofy little afro, to the soft and mushy man-loins that you allowed to spill out of those tiny little running shorts, you Mr. Simmons…Mr. Richard Simmons…were the fuckin’ MAN!

 A severely overweight child from New Orleans, Dick Simmons battled obesity for a number of years, becoming dependent on diet pills and adopting unhealthy weight loss programs.  He briefly lived in Italy, before relocating to Los Angeles in 1973, where he opened an innovative exercise studio that catered to the severely overweight, including himself, and he performed pussy antics and shenanigans that did nothing but get on people’s nerves, while making fat ladies feel as though they were victims.

In 1979, Simmons, based primarily on his hairdo, enjoyed a brief stint on the popular daytime soap opera General Hospital, but soon decided to concentrate solely on building a fitness empire, which made no sense whatsoever, yet somehow worked.  The following year, he launched an even more ridiculous idea in the form of his own talk show The Richard Simmons Show, which wasted four seasons worth of air-time.  He successfully marketed his image to the public, which says everything you need to know about the public.  While writing numerous self-help books, he created the “Deal-A-Meal” food maintenance program, which was clearly a miserable failure, and produced the Sweatin’ to the Oldies line of exercise videos that caused no oldies to sweat whatsoever.

Over the years, Simmons has become a staple on late night television, bringing his non-humorous humor and indefatigable energy to The Tonight Show and Late Night with David Letterman.  With a rigorous touring schedule that includes 250 personal appearances each year, he continues to promote physical well-being to millions of loyal followers in his usual ‘do as I say, not as I do’ style.

Stay tuned, as next week the Boner takes an in-depth look at another fitness superstar, The Wolf.

 I suck at returning phone calls.  Worst ever.  I know that, and I’m not proud of it, but really, I don’t like talking that much. 

One of my favorite dudes ever, on the other hand, doesn’t really fancy e-mailing or texting, and that doesn’t make for frequent updates between the two of us.  I’ll be a son of a bitch though if I didn’t get a e-mail from my boy the other day, and damn was it good to hear from him!  Ladies and germs, I want to tell you about my good buddy Jon Lovitz!  You see me and Lovitz played in one of the greatest bands ever to grace the midwest together, and we were the masterminds behind it.  Think I’m fucking around?  I’m not.  We were big.  Got to play with groups like Blues Traveler, G Love and Special Sauce, The Samples, bands you’ve heard of, so we weren’t any type of scrubs.  Shit, most of you probably were fans of ours.  Anyway,  Lovitz was one of the more talented dudes I ever played with.  He was damn good.  And while we’re on the subjects of pimps like Liberace, I figured what better time to let you guys in on a little lesser known talent, who is also an actor.  You might remember him from Howard the Duck and shit.  Anyway, what you didn’t know was that he was the front man of our group, and even after the rest of us got sick of being awesome, Lovitz when on to further his career, first in Chicago, then down to Austin, TX, and now, as of recently, after numerous albums, the best of which I performed on (serious), he has finally retired.  But we can’t let that shit happen Boner lovers.  He’s way too good, both at songwriting, and as a singer.  I guarantee you he’s better than any bitch whose ever been on American Karaoke, I mean Idol.  Fuck, I think if you Google our shit, you can still hear some of our old songs.  It’s time for some new songs though Lovitz.  You hearin’ me my man?  Your career isn’t over yet.  I want songs about boners in sweat pants, rat tails and mustaches, dudes who exercise in jeans, dudes who like to sport a fat bulge every now and again.  C’mon, what do you say ol’ buddy?  Write me up a little diddy about one of those topics, and let Bisp fans all around the globe get a chance to experience a little audible slice of heaven.  You hear me Lovitz?  I’m talking to you.  That, and I need to talk to you about some other important shit.  For real.  Since I hate talkin’ on the phone though, I think I’m just gonna make a trip up to Chicago to talk to you face to face.  I got the opportunity of a lifetime for you, and I want to tell you all about it.  Check your calendar and find a good weekend to come up there, spot me the money for the flight, and let’s do it!  Seriously though, I want all the rest of you to check out Lovitz and his music.  I don’t know if this site is still up or not, but try going to www.theeverydaypeople.com and see if you can sample some clips.  Then if you like it, let me know, and I’ll see what I can do about getting a personally signed autograph of the following picture for anyone who wants one:

I can’t say that I know a whole lot about this fellow, this legendary-pimp named Liberace, but I can certainly say that I’ve long been fascinated by his weird-ass.  To be honest, I didn’t even know what kind of music he played, only that I hated it.  His whole schtick always seemed a little bizarre to me, but when I decided to do a little digging into the closet of the man behind the man, behind the man, I was shocked at how much I may have underestimated the number of people that fuckin’ loved this pimp.  Now I want some validation here from my gay friends.  The ones who I know might be reading this, and whom I all love dearly, especially J-Earl the Cat with the Curl, aka Mr. Got Rocks– who we should all pay our respects too for being one of Kansas City’s most legendary pimps–He probably partied with Liberace himself, he is still kickin’ ass, and come this September will turn an astounding 70 years, which is fucking amazing.  Anyway, you guys cannot tell me that there were a whole hell of a lot of straight guys that contributed to making this guy as big as he turned out to be.  I mean, would Barry Manilow, Clay Aiken, Babs Streisand or Bette Midler made it without the support of mostly gay men.  Shit, you guys made these people huge, and that’s great, but Liberace?  He just seems a little odd, doesnt’ he?

Nevertheless, he is also fascinating as fuck.  J-Earl, I know you could tell me some stories about this dude, and I remember the one you already have.  I’m concealing your identity, so I hope you don’t mind if I share it with everyone else, but apparently Ol’ Libby had this strange fetish where he would like to get underneath a glass coffetable, and then have dudes sit chapless on top of the coffee that he was under, and proceed to take a shit.  Guys, I’m not making that shit up just to try to be funny.  I’m being totally serious, and I believe my source 100 percent.  J-Earl, as I said, was a HUGE pimp all the way through the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, and just decided to retire from pimpin’ in the 90s.  He definitely wouldn’t make this shit up about the Libster.  Just look at that get up.  Gay or straight, I can’t think of anybody who doesn’t think that get-up he’s got on is one of the most amazing things they’ve ever seen.  And that pose he’s sportin’ in this picture.  Does it get any better than that?  Honestly: Perfect hair, sweet ruffled-shirt, but what takes the cake is what he’s doing with his hands.  Is that a natural pose for dudes who sport that much bling?  Again, I know J-Earl would know the answer to that.  Sheeeeeeet, he doesn’t look too far off from Big Ern McCracken (but not the one most of you are probably thinking of).

Was this dude not thought of as being the slightest bit over the top?  I just know that when I am getting ready to leave the house, and I need to be the slightest bit presentable.  I might pop on something like what my man Libby is sportin’ over here, look in the mirror, and think “Perfect! Muthafuckas know who’s gonna be gettin some pussy tonight!”  “Boy, I’m lookin’ gooooooooooooooood!”  I would either think that, or I’d try to talk one of my friends into wearing it, in an attempt to make them think they look completely off the fucking chain!  I think I could probably do it too.  Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve always had a very dry and sarcastic sense of humor.  I, of course, thought I was hilarious, but for the ones that didn’t really understand the concepts of irony or sarcasm, they just thought that I was a complete fucking asshole.  Even today, I find myself saying something with a totally straight face, dead serious look in my eyes, and be 100 percent, completely fucking around.  Then I’ll realize this person doesn’t know me well enough to know I’m joking, and well, whatever.  My point is, well fuck my point.  I guess I don’t really have one.  So to wrap things up, and in honor of today’s featured pimp (in what will be a periodic, but ongoing series of Pimp Biographies), I will leave you with a little unknown information about just how big, exactly, Mr. Liberace actually was:

Liberace (born Wladziu Valentino Liberace) was the most flamboyant, popular easy listening pianist of the ’60s and ’70s by a wide margin.  I guess this means that the 60s and 70s had a real thing for flamboyent, popular, easy-listening piano.  Horrible.  Anyway,  his campy, theatrical appearance and performances often disguised his prodigious talent.  Talent  for things other than just the piano, but piano being the only one we’ll focus on.  Instead of following the accepted path of classical recitals and university courses, Liberace chose to be a showman. At encores at his concerts, he began playing novelty songs like “Mairzy Doats,” which is a novelty song that I’m unfamiliar with, and hope to keep it that way.  To ensure that he had widespread appeal as an entertainer, he took elocution lessons in order to mask his Polish accent.  Call me crazy, but I’m sure doing away with the Polish accent was what really put him over the top, giving him “widespread” appeal.  Right.

 Liberace became a star in the ’50s, both through his records and assorted television and film appearances. His appearance and repertoire was becoming increasingly campy, as he dressed himself in rhinestone, gold lame, furs, and sequins while playing everything from Gershwin and show tunes to lounge jazz and light classical pieces, with a candelabra placed on his piano.  Damn, show tunes, my favorite!  Ok guys, now here is the best part: Though it was a heady time for the pianist, 1956 was also the year that his star began to dim somewhat. Cassandra, a columnist for the English tabloid The Daily Mirror, inferred that Liberace was homosexual. He sued the paper and won, yet he still made an effort to tone down his appearance. However, the public didn’t want a subdued Liberace and he reverted to his kitschy showmanship in the early ’60s.  Now am I missing something here.  Reporter infers that he’s homosexual, and he sues?  For what?  Was this guy actually claiming to be straight?  That’s what it sounds like to me, and if he says so, then how in God’s name could anybody have actually accussed him of that.  That is an OUTRAGE!

Liberace didn’t have any more pop hits in the ’60s,’70s, and ’80s, yet he continued to sell out concerts around the world and sell a number of records, even though he never earned the favor of the critics. In 1982, a former chauffeur and bodyguard sued the pianist for palimony; the case was settled out of court. Liberace remained a celebrity and a popular performer until his death in 1987.  So there you have it folks.  A little history lesson on one of the most famous, weirdest dudes on planet earth.  Stay tuned for the next installment of the Boner Biography Series: All the important shit they never taught you in school.   Next up, I’m deciding between Richard Simmons and Michael “Jacko” Jackson.  Y’all stay hard now ya hear!

I bet all you little pussies just been sittin’ in your cubes, sportin’ a mini boner in them khakis that are way too tight, just waitin’ for the conclusion of what is ultimately going to be the platform for which I run for mayor on.  Yeah, unless I hear back from someone other than Steve Dave–who was the only one that voted to be in my gang–it looks like this Dick Almighty is going to have to be the one who dances ol’ Doc Funkenstein’s ass right out of city hall and return him to the circus.  Ok, enough of that shit, let me get back to my point, and see if I can really wrap this thing up before it before it becomes the verbal equivalent to Rocky VII. 

Alright, so those who have been smart enough to follow along, we’ve established the connection between poverty, obesity and the potential extinction of over half of our population, which would be the ultimate result of a country that is already losing hundreds of thousands of people each year to disease, cancer, addiction and illnesses of all kinds.  Then, in part II, I stuck it to the medical industry, and more adequately dubbed it the “sickness industry,” since really they aren’t dealing with people that I would consider to be all that healthy, hence the fact they are, after all, in the hospital.  Finally, I tried to come full circle in making the case that, in an economy that is fucking horrible, 1.3 trillion dollars, or 1/7 of the total shit-economy, is being spent on doctor visits, hospital stays, surgeries, pharmaceuticals and unfortunately, too many funerals, and it can all be traced back to a lack of education, and a dire need to invest what money we do have in our health and wellness, instead of waiting for symptoms, conditions and major illness to inevitably occur at some point downstream.  Now, for anyone that is still with me, cares about their health, sees the point that I’m trying to make, and has a brain the size of a pea in that tiny, ugly, bald melon of yours, congratulations.  It’s time to make the case as to why 2009’s version of the Great Depression, in conjunction with the trillions of dollars that are being spent on fast food, bigger pant sizes, medications, and a generation of baby boomers who are willing to do anything, and pay any price, to stay young and healthy, has created an opportunity that will–in my personal, professional and well-researched opinion–will be the next trillion dollar industry in America.  The industry I’m referring to is that of ”Wellness.”

Think I’m full of shit?  Then do me a favor IT-guy, and do some reading about technology and the Internet and the Stock Market and the Wellness Industry.  Do you see these industries moving at the same speed and at the same rate of growth, or do you see the wellness business exceeding this speed and rate of growth?  Fuck it, the truth is that the Wellness Industry should exceed almost anything we can see on the horizon!  This, again, is because as the baby boomers continue to age, they seem to never reach a point where they have enough “wellness products,” or feel strong enough, or young enough.  They are always looking for something more and more.  Meanwhile, the younger generation–my generation–is watching what has happened to our parents, grandparents, and sadly enough, even our friends, and are putting our collective foot down when it comes to buying into the fact that aging automatically means living miserably!  What’s more, the Wellness Industry–which could include anything from health club memberships, massages, nutritional supplements, etc.–is at its very early stages.  On one side, you could estimate that there’s roughly 200 billion dollars of wellness products on the market right now.  Or, you could see the fact the nutritional supplement and vitamin businesses ALONE reached 70 billion dollars last year!  That’s kind of a big number.  Let’s put it in perspective though: We spent $70 billion on vitamins and nutritional supplements last year, but we spent $1.3 trillion on the sickness business that works on the effects of not getting the right nutrition or right vitamins.  Fuck, we spent $8 trillion, which is $800 billion (for those still playing at home), on all the other things in our economy.  So when we look around at the wellness business, we see a very new business that only in the last decade is starting to offer consumer products.  However, it’s been only in the last few months, let’s say 24 just to be fair, that this information has even started to reach knowledgeable people who realize that these products not only work, but are putting some of the pharmaceutical companies to shame, and yes, that’s a very bold statement.  More significantly, when we look at the growth and end of that business relative to the total size of the economy, we can clearly see a $1 trillion ”Wellness” Industry by the year 2010, with no limits in sight as to how far it will grow beyond that point.  So what does all of this have to do with you?  That is entirely up to you, you spectacled, porn-stache wearin’ cubicle-puss.  You see, Sam Walton, who became the richest man in the world in 1990, never once made a Wal-Mart brand of any product.  He simply distributed other people’s products and services more efficiently.  And with today’s technology, namely the Internet, we will once again see that the real money is made by the people who carry these products from the laboratory to the consumer, and that my friend, might as well be you!  The Internet in business today is really just about reducing costs.  We see this great growth in the Internet business because people are using it to find better ways to distribute products and services at much lower costs.  The product that I have seen impact more lives than any other, including my own, is Vemma.  And anyone who chooses to consume the stuff for the sake of bettering their own health, also has an unlimited propensity to generate revenue, simply by spreading the word of good health.  Sounds too good to be true doesn’t it?  It’s not.  It’s that simple.  Drink it to improve your own health, then tell the one’s you love why it might be able to work for them, get paid, end of story.

I hate to say it, but most people are going to miss out on this opportunity.  Whether you wanna call this a new spin on an old pyramid scheme, or still think the world is flat, let me be the first to tell you that you’re going to pay for your ignorance.  I’m not just talking about a blown opportunity to earn up to $1.3 million a year either.  I’m talking about those of you who will never take a look because your spineless, pussy-ass doesn’t have the ability to see things differently, or open your mind up to new ideas that could not only help your own fat ass, but could put a little money in your pocket at the same time.  To the rare few of who have read all three installments, and see that it’s at least worth taking another look for yourself, I commend you on your ability to have foresight, and will now hand you the keys to your health, longevity and prosperity.  Here they are, use them wisely www.myvemma.com/kansascity, and, www.vteamtraining.com.

Because this is one of the few times that I have actually had a real point to make, I am determined to finish it.  For those who have no idea what the hell I’m talking about, the column on the right was the beginning of a case I was making for the fact that our current piss-poor state of collective health has more to do with economics and education than it does with health care and medicine.  Therefore, for those who are just tuning in, start with Part I to your right, and then read my conclusion here.   Now, for Part II.

Where I spent the first half of this argument explaining how our fat, overweight and obese population– which now equates to one person out of every two–could most easily be traced back to the economy, and how its current shitty state will much likely make things even worse from a health standpoint (if you can imagine that), I am now going to target the medical industry, which should really be more appropriately titled the “sickness industry,” due to the fact that nobody who visits, or resides in a hospital for any period of time ever really WANTS to be there, or spend the shitload of money it costs for every visit that’s being made.   Therefore, let’s call it what it is: Physicians treat those who are sick, not those who are well.  Nevertheless, the medical industry today is a $1.3 trillion one.  To put that in perspective, that means that 1/7 of the US economy is being spent treating the symptoms of our ill health.  Needless to say, the more overweight or obese you are, the more medical problems you will have.  That goes without saying.  But no one ever dreamed that the majority of health-care costs in this country (under the age of 65) are entirely due to being overweight and obese, and the medical business reaps $1.3 trillion annually treating the symptoms of our bad food habits, and horrendously lazy fat-asses.  These people, my friends, are not interested in giving you information that is going to eliminate you as a customer.  Now I realize that I’m making that sound evil and/or malicious on the part of the physicians, and I certainly not trying to do that.  Here’s an example: Suppose you have a deficiency of a certain vitamin, mineral, or essential fatty-acid, and you therefore decide to see a physician.  Is that doctor going to say “ok, take this drug every day for the rest of your life,” or is he/she going to spend hours with you analyzing what you eat, what your lifestyle is like, or anything else to find out that you’re not getting a certain vitamin, and that is what’s causing the disease?  Being the son of an excellent physician and nurse practitioner, I’m sorry to break the news to you guys that he or she is going to give you the quick fix, aka “the medical fix.”  How do I know this?  Because it happened to me for 21 years.  That’s how long I spent taking various forms of harsh pharmaceuticals, spending thousands and thousands of dollars, dealing with side-effects that would oftentimes outweigh the benefits, only to later find out that my disease could be controlled through certain dietary changes, and nutritional supplements.  Again, I am not implying that our physicians are evil people, but they get a good chunk of their information from the research that is being done by drug companies.  So what is happening is that the entire medical business, in effect, deals with the after-effect of our shitty eating habits.  Remember, we spent $1.3 trillion last year just to work on the effects of not getting the right nutrition, or right vitamins.  You’re beginning to see where I’m going with all this now, huh?  We, as a society, accept arthritis and eyesight problems and not being strong, and all types of medical problems as symptoms of aging.  That is fucking bullshit people!!!  MOST of the medical problems we experience today are resulting from a vitamin and mineral deficiency in our diets.  We go to a doctor to say I have a headache, or I have dizziness, or I am fat and miserable.  The doctor quickly comes out with a drug treating that symptom.  The doc doesn’t focus on your overall diet or what’s missing from your diet.  All food is made up of one of six nutrient categories: 1) water 2) carbohydrates 3) lipids or fats 4) proteins 5) vitamins and minerals.  Virtually all disease is directly resulting from a deficiency in one of those nutrient categories.  More than anything else, my research is concluding that all medical problems, ones we often chalk up to aging or a lack of strength, all the way to cancer and Alzheimer’s, IS A DIRECT RESULT OF A DEFICIENCY IN ONE OF THE SIX NUTRIENT CATEGORIES THAT COMPOSE OUR FOOD.  A deficiency in any one of those six nutrient categories leads to what doctors call disease.  But it is really a symptom of some nutrient category missing in our diet.  Plain and simple. 

Shit, it looks like this one is going to take me three parts to finish.  I still have not gotten to my ultimate point, but I would love for anyone to challenge me on this.  Especially if you are in the medical field.  Until next time, however, keep checking back.  I promise I’ll wrap this up in the next installment, so don’t go anywhere cube-freaks.

I am going to provide you with some insight and information that could help both your health, and your financial state.  From a few hundred dollars a month, to over $1 million a year, listen to these facts before deciding whether or not to take a second look, but even then, you gotta have foresight, which means most of you idiots won’t get it.  I’m gonna try anyway. 

We have now reached the point where 55 percent of the US population is overweight or obese.  We are also in the midst of an economic downfall that rivals, if not exceeds the Great Depression.  People are hurting.  People are in trouble.  There is a new discrimination in this country, and it has nothing to do with race, religion or ethnicity.  Today, the overwhelming, number one discrimination, is against people who are overweight.  People who are overweight are discriminated against in ways that many of you may never know, and only the ones who have experienced it will, but it is everywhere.  The reason this is happening is because people who are fat are made to feel that the entire problem is caused by their behavior, and they are effectively being ostracized from higher positions in society at an alarming rate.  Listen, don’t think I’m getting soft on those of your who are fat, lazy and don’t do shit about it, but the reality is that while 55 percent of the population is overweight, 25 percent of the population is considered obese.  The medical definition of obese is “so overweight you have trouble functioning.”  In other words, while many of you may get a kick out of me bagging on people who can’t wipe their own ass, the sad thing is I’m not kidding.  What’s happening here is that our wealthier, educated, upper class are actually getting healthier.  Meanwhile, the poor and middle classes, who are the bulk of America, are slipping off the deep end when it comes to food and health.  When looked at closely, it is easy to see that this is as much of an economic problem as it is a medical one.  So if the economy fuckin’ sucks, then what do you think is going to happen now.  The fat will become obese, the obese will become bedridden, and everybody will become a little worse off financially.  Still aren’t seeing the connection here Einstein?  Look, we have a one trillion dollar agriculture business of packaged fast food, and the packaged food industry is quite savvy at marketing their products.  They follow a process known as “potato chip marketing equations.”  This means that 90 percent or more of their product is sold to 10 percent  or less of their customers.  Think about the people you know who eat Wendy’s or McDonalds almost every day.  Shit, it might be you.  Believe me, it’s easy to recognize that 10 percent of fast-food junkies consume more than 90 percent of the shit, and if you don’t think the marketing companies know this, and therefore study you like a lab rat, then you are fat, and retarded.  Granted, the ad execs are doing an excellent job of confusing their audience and keeping them uninformed, but that’s what this Boner is here for.  Let me give you one of my favorite examples of people’s complete idiocy when it comes to this point:  Take anything that touts or labels itself boldly and proudly as being “Fat Free.”  Like those Snackwells that dude was so proud of for eating, you know who I mean Doug Tail.  You see, where they may have removed the nominal amount of fat that were in those cookies to begin with, they surely couldn’t have quadrupled the amount of sugar that they were putting in them, actually causing the calorie content to be higher could they?  Well they did.  That, and they partnered up with the government in a way that causes us to continually get information that says “this shit is good for you,” when it would really be better to just stick your head in a toilet and eat shit.  Think I’m wrong?  Take a look in the mirror fat boy, I’m not.

Now I’m gonna break here for now because I got other shit to do, but I’m not done yet, so if you want to see where I’m going with this, then check back.  This motherfucker’s about to be continued…

I’m not gonna beat around the bush here, you office guys are fuckin’ killing me.  Seriously, if you work in a cubicle, and you are pathetically soft and pasty, wear your khaki pants with the belt pulled together way too tight, and often find yourself wondering “What the fuck happened to me,” and you’re still only 30 years old, then you’re probably gonna get offended here, so either stop reading now, or else I’m callin’ it like I see it. 

You fuckin’ guys have got to pull yourselves together.  Seriously, with spring here now, resolve to get your fat, worthless asses moving, and put a little pride back into that birdbrain of yours.  Put down the quarter pounders and mix in a glass of water after every few Mountain Dews.  I mean, Jeeeeeeeeesus, you guys.  Every fucking day I see groups of dudes who are coming back from lunch, brown bag and bucket of Coke in tow, every one of them dressed pretty much the same, and without fail, there are at least two who are so fat that I seriously doubt they can wipe their own ass.  Did you guys not get the memo that fast-food is not good for you after all, and that macoroni and cheese is not a vegetable.  Listen suckas, if you’re fuming right now because it sounds like I’m making fun of you, then you are who I’m talking to.  Don’t get mad at me, I probably don’t even know you, but what the fuck?  Let’s do something to clean you guys up a little bit.  Here, again, is the same challenge I posed once before: for 30 days in a row, move your ass for a minimum of 30 min.  Do whatever the fuck you want, just go hard enought to at least break a light sweat.  If you miss a day, you must start over again with day 1.  Believe me, it’s tougher than it sounds, but it’s very doable.  There is NOBODY, who cannot find 30 minutes in a 24 hour day to walk, bike, whatever.  If you can’t, you’re just a lazy fucking loser, and your only gonna get fatter from here.  The rest of you who still kind of give a shit.  I guarantee you, and I’m being serious, that if you can focus on 30 min, for 30 days, you would lose between an inch or two around your waistline.  Give it a shot.  It will make a difference.  You guys are really looking horrible.

 Thanks to the four of you who noticed I been tucked away for awhile.  And to the one dude I’ve never met before, but keeps writing me to cheer me on, and tell me that my absence has cost him his only source of daily information and inspiration, right on my man, right on!  I’m sure you’re a hit with the ladies.  And no, we probably shouldn’t hang out sometime, thanks though.

Now, to the rest of you bird-brained peckernecks, I hope you all missed me, cause I missed all of you, and I’m back with a big announcement to make about a decision I (almost) made during my time spent doing much cooler stuff than writing about boners.  Thing is I’m gonna need everybody’s help to pull this off: (drumroll please) . . . Ladies and germs, I have (nearly) decided that  I am going to do one of two things, I’m either going to run for mayor of Kansas City, or I’m gonna start a gang!  Either way, I want all of you guys to be involved with whichever one I choose.  You see, I don’t watch the television news much anymore, and I cancelled my subscription to the Star, which is something I never thought I would do–Quick Sidenote:  In case you guys don’t read the paper either, be sure to read The Boner in Ink magazine every Wednesday.  A lot of times they won’t print my shit, but they do sometimes, and if not in the mag, my answers can always be found unedited online at www.inkkc.com  It would be as part of the Frink Panel…so far I’ve gotten away with “whiney pussies,” and most recently, “bullshitty nonsense”–anyway, I caught wind the other day that our current mayor Dr. Funkenstein, who has got to be one of the ugliest bastards I have ever seen in my life–right up there with Kris Kaeman and Edward James Olmos–and who also smells like bigfoot’s dick (I heard…from someone who was gittin’ theys hair and nails did at the salon), is about to be recalled or whatever they fuck they do with faulty mayors.  So that got me to thinkin, as many of you know, I voted for myself for president last November by writing my name in the space provided.  And although I can’t prove it, I think I got a few drunk guys to do the same, which gave me a total of around 4 or 5 votes.  Now if I can muster up that kind of  support for president of the United States, I figger I could easily win some shitty lil’ gig like mayor.  If that doesn’t wind up working for whatever reason, then I’m not fuckin’ around, we’re startin’ a gang.  Everybody can be in it, even if you’re a pussy (cause I know most of you are), but it ain’t that kind of gang, so don’t worry about it.  Anyway, the name of the gang would be simple, yet perfect.  We ain’t the Bloods, and we ain’t the Crips… sons of bitches, we are the Bisps.  That’s right, the KC Bisps, here to get some shit done that hasn’t been gettin’ done by the losers in charge now.  So who’s with me?!!?

That, and also, just to let you all know, last month I legally had my name changed to Bonerin Michael Sweatpants (I kept my middle name).  I felt like my real identity was starting to get a little too obvious, so I thought this might throw people off a little.  That, and how cool would it be to have a mayor named Bonerin M. Sweatpants!

That’s it.  But I’m officially back to give more offensive weight-loss advice, and relay news on how ridiculous things have actually gotten inside everybody’s favorite health club.  So keep checkin’ back cubicle-gangsters, I know you’re the ones who’ve been missing me the most.  I’ll be tea-baggin at least a couple days each week for the next 9 months.  And I just found out what an RSS Feed is, so I guess if anyone really gives a goddam, they can know when there’s breaking news.

Welcome to spring pussies.  It’s 2009, which is The Year of the Boner.  I’m looking forward to an exciting next 9 months.  Stay hard!

Pussies clip your ties up tight, plaster some a that nasty dog-oil grease, or whatever it is you use to tape your combover onto your head so tight that it looks all crustily-amazing and what not.   You’re gonna get a rare treat tonight because goddamnit, I’m fuckin’ pissed at myself.  No, I absolutely DO NOT say that in a whiney, no-nuts, high-pitched bitch voice like High-Pitch Eric.  Fuckin’ WHOOPED High-Pitch Eric’s ass the other day in darts.  Anyway, I’m not blamin’ anyone, or making any goddamn excuses, truth fuckin’ is that I can’t say I’ve been a hell of a lot less worthless than you pussy-ass motherfucking shit-eatin’ dogs.  Fuck, if I seem like I’m in a BAD mood.  Sidenote: When I say BAD spelled in all capital letters like that, I want you guys to picture me pluckin’ and a tappin’ on  this here keyboard, bumpin’ my 80s beats in my lil’ office, got me one of them eraser-style diddy’s up in Windy’s shop the other day…oh yeah, boys give it up for Windy!!!!   Hell yeah, ain’t but a few of ya whose lettuce Windy didn’t get his meat-hooks with waves all up in.  Now that muthafucka was one of the fucking most incredible dudes ever.  Windy was this barber, who I don’t know how, and I don’t know why (but I do have a guess), but this dude just started kinda becoming the pimp of all barbers.  Seriously, out of nowhere, somehow, this barber named Windy, and I am not shitting about his name being Windy, as in the weather, was the barber that brought us all punk-ass little worthless pieces of shit together.  Ok—fuck that—this stupid story is turning into some bullshit lie that I don’t have the time or energy to get into.  Fuck, it wasn’t even gonna be that funny.  What I was trying to say was that Windy was this pimp-ass dude.  He had this weird, real old-style appeall to him though that made him one fuck of a character.  Now for anybody that knew–or shit, still knows the Windy, there’s always gonna be one thing that comes to mind faster than anything else, and that was that motherfucker’s hairstyle.  Man, everyone knew that, no doubt.  Windy man had a fuckin’ do like nobody had every seen before, and the only thing we could ever think to call the shit was “The Butt Cutt.”  I’m tellin’ you snucka’s, this shit was off the fucking chain!  Some of you know what I’m talking about, but it wasn’t until many, many years later after I stopped going to Windy, but never forgot his butt-cutt, that I actually found out what the name of that piece of furry, butt-art actually was.  So, for those of you who have never known, only guessed, and simply resigned yourself to aspiring to one day have Windy’s Butt-Cutt, let me tell you that that shit is called a Drake Tail.  Yup, I got confirmation and proof if anybody needs to see it, but fuck y’all, I’m growing my shit out to create me what will be the first since Windy and/or the 1950s…The Drake Tail.  Hell’s yeah!  Now there’s a Duck Tail too, but I don’t know how I got into this shit.  I had a point when I started talking, and goddamnit this has been a long day.  I think the point I was going to make was about why I was pissed at myself, and the easy way to sum that whole shindilly up would be to just refer everyone back to that piece I wrote, when I was talkin’ about how my economy was doin’ so well . . .well, that was some bullshit.  It wasnt’ at the exact time I wrote all that, but goddamnit, it is now.  Fuck.  Well fuckers, what are we gonna do?  I can tell you what is not going to happen, and that is that nobody’s gonna hear me whine and cry about being broke, or any shit like that.  Look, times are tough because I’ve been making stupid decisions.  Same reason you’re fat as fuck.  You know?  So now, I’m upping my standards, so up all of yours assholes.  Seriously, I’m pissed.  Not gonna cry about it, but my ability to manage money has been probably somewhere around the equivalent of your ability to get laid, and that AIN’T good.  So just like you fat fucks, I need to do something different.  Right now.  No more bullshit, no New Year’s resolution bullshit.  Right now.  Change happens that fast, and so if I can do it, so can you.  Buck up mush-puss, just cause you look like a butthole with eyes, doesn’t mean that you can’t get yourself in really good shape.  Shit, as long as I stay broke, you might have a chance with….no, nevermind. 

I have no damn idea if any of the above made any type of coherent sense whatsoever.  Don’t really care.  It’s been a long day, and my only point today was to get ready, because after Christmas, before New Year’s, I’m starting a whole new onslaught of whooping people’s ass in to shape, so…later.  I’m passing out.