You know the ones. Joggers. New Years Joggers. A vile and disgusting species. You only see them in January, perhaps a few remain in February, they can be found on almost every street and any time of day, though mostly its evenings.
They will be bobbing along with smug looks on their puffed out red-faces wearing the most disgustingly tight-fitting-lycra-based trousers and brightly coloured tops, kitted out in clothing that will spend the rest of the year being eaten by moths in the back of their wardrobes.
Why is it that they look so pleased with themselves anyway? I can only imagine its the feeling of having got one up on the vultures that run commercial gyms who trap other less fortunate people with their joining fees and minimum 12 month contracts.
“Look at me, look how committed I am, I am out here running. I don’t care that its raining, I am here soaked by a mix of sweat and rain because I have made a new years resolution to get healthy. For a month or two.”
I have two words to say to you people…. “FUCK OFF”.
themiseryguts 