Omega 3 Vitamins Zoom Zoom Buster

Took the short train to the health station, choo choo! What a fiasco, all dressed up in spandex workout pantaloons and not a rope to skip. Big Sports 5 was the old hip gym-store station, but Sports chalet just planted itself in the nest made by the old Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and they’re storming the retail health blast field, selling weights and kayaks and fiber-goretex-titanium water bottles without remorse. They sold me my jump rope, a heavy, rubber thing with beautiful blue rivets for my tiny hands to grasp. I could snap the wings off a forty pound moth with my wieldy doomsday jump rope.

The real question for the damage control gurus, the Sports Chalet charistas is, where’s the chalet buffet? I’d like a protein bar with my diet pomegranate blueberry extract juicifacation power slurpee please. How about a side of wheyables? Wheyt thins? Wheyt watchers, anyone? Let me dictate the demands of my health food upon retail and sell it to me with my Nordic Track.

Don’t you think its time Primal Nutrition and omega 3 vitamins got together for a big paleo health party? Let’s make it happen, and where better to make it happen in the chalet in the nest of the old B, B, & B? The new B, B, & B is indeed beyond, all the way across the street with fancy new windows and an escalator made just for shopping carts, how thoroughly Los Angeles.

Hey, what’s a caveman diet?

Ding bat flying with his nypsrustle. They clatter and skitter and flop down on the loam. White spade serpents suck them up and swallow, bellowing swiftly and sneezing for more. Big rough pumpernickel stuck to the throat of a mammoth neanderthol whomping with fear. Choking it down, he burps at the serpents, then rushes away on his gray palomino. I pass on by through this thicket of corn, away from the rot of an urban black cesspool of candy corn houses aligned near the Starbuckses. I’m on the lamb now, took to snyping the citizens, a good deal of fun, but troublesome consequences. My niece ratted me out, the precocious little brat, chewing her pop rocks like butter and telling the cops all about my body count.

Clouds gathering and merging now like amoebas eating their progeny. Not the white Disney friendly puffs, but the yellow, blue scaled miseries that ruin a planned weekend in Carmel. I could be sucking garlic snails off of delicate china in an evergreen forest, but I’m hammering messages through my grouse and carboy linoleum roller instead, buttoning down and striking out with a plastic tarp for downtown. God Damn those clouds.

Two many alphas and not enough omegas in this city. Everyone’s starting something, “getting it going,” “getting it showing,” Level 3 Wizards, and Rambo 3 fatalities, and omega 3 vitamins wrapped up so thick inside a health blog, I’m waxing visceral. Out.