Fish sticks

Something blogworthy...something blogworthy...As I troll the channels of my mind, searching for that priceless flounder of humor, I will introduce you to the WSC boys. I see these guys nearly every day for one hour. They are a motley crew, composed of civil service employees and attorneys. The are beyond entertaining, and, when together, loose all tact and public decency. First, you'll note the buckets of beer on the table and while you marvel at said beer containers, you should really consider its imbiber. Let's go left to right, shall we?



Reflection: I call him reflection because it reminds me of his real name. Reflection is a nice guy, very protective of the circle of men in the photo and insists that I sucker punched him a few years back at a bar in Adam's Morgan. Naturally, I deny this accusation, because IF I were to hit a guy, he wouldn't look as pretty as reflection so many years later.

Gesticulator: Really, what can I say about the gesticulator? He's a smashing gent, good humored, well build, fantastically attractive. He is the standard by which the others aspire. Which, is why number two from the right is staring at me, but we'll get to him later.

Mort: Probably the most earnest of the group. It is in his honor by which we were pictured together. He'll be missed at the new job.

Ninja: The centerpiece of the photograph, and with good reason. Ninja has more ripples than a peaceful lake disrupted by a fat-jack cannonball, and he wears shirts (I think they are painted on) that show the most minute twitch of each muscle. Secretly, we all hate him. One of us will be getting our sweat on and in strolls ninja, chewing on the weights we were just staining to pick up. He doesn't bench press the bar, he bench presses the bench press. To add insult to injury, one of the boys might be darn proud that he just accomplished his goal and Ninja will come over and say things like, "Yeah, that's great but that won't do anything for you--you should eat more red meat, preferably raw, there's more protein. Then you can get cloths painted on you because you'll look so good"

The Stabber: Known for his preferred method of conflict resolution. Really though, he's a charmer. He's also a runner, what's more impressive is his ability to incorporate alcohol and nicotine into his diet and still be able to beat me down a stretch of land. It's a bit humiliating to have a guy pass you while taking a drag on a Marlborough red. The Stabber is a great initiator and is always game for a drink (or 15) and has the astounding ability to attract women who collect his hair and leave him food. What's most impressive is his ability to consume the same amount of alcohol as the state of Rhode Island in one evening and still show up for work and the gym the next day.

Discretion: How does one describe discretion, or in the case of our dear friend, the antithesis of discretion? This member of the WSC frat is fiercely observant and can quickly reduce the most confident to a pile of tears and off-white gym towels. Fortunately he's a member of the crew so we are privy to his thoughts. It is worth noting that his volume button is broken, so what he shares with the boys, he shares with the gym and no one can really argue with him, because he's usually right.

Corky: I struggled to come up with an appropriate epithet for the final member of the WSC frat. I settled on Corky (root being: Cork) because it is the most essential (but often lacking) part of his physique. Like Ninja, he is constructed of solid granite but avoids the paint-on clothing line. Oh, and he's covered in scars and came into the gym this week with a story. Apparently Corky was accosted at some night club by some not-so-smart skinny twit, so Corky threw him 30 feet, although I believe the exact term he used was "I tossed him like a shot-put" Fortunately, The Stabber wasn't hurt after the throw (or the amount of liquor in his system dulled the pain) and they were back to hugging again on Monday.