Okay, so it’s Saturday and I feel great, which feels weird. Considering the Patriots are well on their way to a Super Bowl for a NINTH time since the millennium broke, I thought it would be a good time to start pledging my allegiance to Tom Brady in more ways than not.
Last year, I bought the TB12 Method book and, let me tell you, I’ve never gazed upon a more preposterous load of garbage in my life. Every recipe in that entire book is nearly impossible to make. Even the simplest shake option requires something like Araguaney tree bark from the jungles of Venezuela to accomplish.
In other words, there’s absolutely no chance I’m going through with that; however, just because I refuse to follow in Brady’s steps, doesn’t mean I can’t be healthy. Introducing the New and Improved Joey Boats Method…
Formally, the Joey Boats Method was essentially as follows: Drowning in bottom-shelf vodka while walloping in a hopeless spiral of Bugles and regret. Now, the Joey Boats method consists of, well, just not being a complete shithead during all hours of the day.
In order to do so, I need to make sacrifices. One of those sacrifices is taking a weekend off or two, so last night, I decided to stay in. Instead of burying myself in a box of shitty, late night pizza, I laid in bed and watched a series of documentaries on serial killers because that stuff revs my engine. I always felt to be great at what you want in life, you need to study the greats, which is why i spent two hours reading up/watching this new Netflix documentary on Ted Bundy.
So yeah, I woke up fresh and hit Planet Fitness—the choice of kings. On my drive home, I passed this place called Pure Nutrition. For the record, I’ve attempted to entertain their services on a few occasions before; however, they’re seemingly open three hours a week. In fact, if you look at their hours of operation, their hours on Sunday are listed as “sometimes.”
Anyway, going into this place, I was expecting to grab a protein shake and leave. When I opened the door, I realized I was sorely mistaken. I thought this place was a GNC type place where I could just grab a Muscle Milk or something and bounce but nooooooo, this was one of those smoothie bar type setups.
For the record, I don’t hate these type of places as much as I give off. They’re all over the place nowadays and for good reason. People are constantly looking for ways to feel healthy without actually working out and places like this provide that comfort through $12 tea. That said, this was not what I was looking for at the time.
The only problem was that I had already walked in and awkwardly scanned the interior of the establishment like some Nazi officer looking for Jews in Poland circle 1941. People saw me, I saw them, and I was officially in a predicament.
I had three options: a.) just awkwardly turn around and leave like a fucking clown; b.) suck it up and pay the $14 for a shake; or c.) walk up to the counter, ask for something exotic that the bar clearly doesn’t offer—like Mediterranean squash or something—so that, when they say no, I can be like “Ohhh okay, that’s fine” and leave.
I chose option b because I’m a pussy that capitulates to social scrutiny.
Anyway, it was okay…
For those who thought this blog was going somewhere, clearly you don’t know me. On days where I have nothing to write about, I just narcissistically start typing about myself and hope someone cares. If you don’t (so all of you), then you just blew 3 minutes of your life. If you didn’t on the blog, then you’ll never read this sentence anyway so good for you.
Thanks for the click. Alright, I’m out…
– Joey Boats (@joey_boats)