Folks,

We have a really big weekend coming up, with a show tonight in Rhode Island, a show tomorrow in NYC, a show Saturday in NYC and final mixing of the new rock record on Sunday. Ouch. Seeing as how we all feel like we're running on fumes after last weekend, I'm not sure exactly how we're going to make it. Oh right, cocaine! (Ed. Note - by "cocaine", Joe means Twix bars and Diet Dr. Pepper)

Anyway, it is a pretty jam-packed weekend and so in preparation I went to the gym yesterday. I guess I've finally been convinced by our oppressive, beauty driven culture that I am a big fat fatty who must shape up or fear ridicule, but that's another story. The main story here is that the gym is categorically always a mistake. There's absolutely nothing, I mean nothing, fun about being in a confined smelly place with grunting musclemen, all the while doing things your body really doesn't like to do. I mean, I was doing a bench press and every fiber of my chest was asking one simple question of me, "Why?" And I gotta admit, I just didn't know how to answer him.

And so, people, I advocate starting the Ideal Gym, Inc., where men like myself can sit around a television, drink beer, eat pizza, and smoke. Shirts and having your top pants button actually buttoned will be optional.

How about it science?