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Wallnuts After Dark: Oofa, What's Wit All A the Friggin' Exercise?!?

So I went to see my doctor, Dr. Dominic Domenico, and he says to me, “DW,” he says, “you been livin’ large for too long and ya gotta start takin’ better care a yourself. Start exercisin’ an cut out some a the Salumi you been packin’ away like it’s goin’ outta style.” He actually talks like that. Hand to God.

So I says, “Doc,” I says, “I ain’t never seen the insides a no gym unless I was tellin’ some mug he hadda take a dive on account a the dough we was layin’ off on the other guy.” And he tells me he don’t care about none a that shit and that I gotta join a gym or else I ain’t gonna live to see too many more a the Our Lady a Mount Carmel summer festivals, if you know what I mean.

Anyways, I gotta admit I’d been eatin’ way too much Pasta Fagioli and Sbriciolona and Lardo, and Annette an I have been hittin’ the Martinis and Averna kinda hard. And I gotta says my Oleg Cassini European Cut slacks don’t fit me like they’s meant to in all the vital areas, if you catch my drift.

So I head on over to the local gym and a course I get this big muscleheaded Mama Luke half-a-Finnoch, tough guy wanna be j’drool who has a hand shake grip like one a them Nancy boys you’d find prancin’ around the Village wearin’ a mesh sleeveless shirt and blue jeans that are so tight they show the balls, and he comes on strong with the heavy sales pitch. Befores he can get rollin’ I says, “Hey Mack, save the schpeil for someone who gives a Fucc, I’mst here to join up.” So that was that.

Now none a the guys was ever the type to go for any a that exercisin’ shenanigans. Oh sure, Sinatra and I would go for a schvitz ‘specially when we had a dame or two along to top us off whilst we was sweatin’, but believe you me you’d never catch us doin’ no push-ups or sit-ups. You’d have a better chance a catchin’ us listenin’ to Jerry Vale 8-track tapes than you would seein’ us doin’ that shit. Jerry Vale, I says.

So I walk inta this big friggin’ room wit nothin’ but threadmills, those staircase machines, and some other contraptions that reminded me a some a those industrial type machines we used to stuff uncooperative types, deadbeats and other elements who was undesirable to the Family into. Usin’ all a these machines there’s a ton of fat dames and a bunch a paunchy gray-skinned pischocs sweatin’ and puffin’ an lookin’ miserable cuz for all a their work they ain’t goin’ nowheres. Pischocs, I says.

And I’m thinkin’ to myself, if this exercise racket is so jake why is all a these out a shape people in here? There weren’t a one of ’em who looked like they coulda punched their way outta a Cannoli shell. Madon!

Then there’s the friggin’ music they’s playin’ that was poundin’ so loud I felt like I was at one a them titty bars I used to run back in the day when the 5 Families ran all a the titty bar businesses in the Tri-State region. And on top a all a that noise, they got all a these TVs with everything on them from The Sports Center to Kelly and Michael. I tells ya I had a headache worser than I did than when I went to my Step Grand Niece Carlotta’s Chorus Concert and Dance Recital.

So I made me a bee-line right to the office a that cheese eatin’, pumped up pussy hump with the over gelled hair and Finnochy hand shake and tole him I wanted my fuckin money back, pronto. And he gave me all a that, ‘we don’t give refunds and I gotta talk to my manager,” and whatnot. I said “Look pal, I only been here 6 minutes and if I don’t get my money back now, I’m gonna call my friend Skinny D’Amato and he’ll get it back for me, from you. Speakin’ a Skinny, why don’t you look him up on your computer.”

Before you can say, “The Google,” I had my refund. As far as exercise goes, I’ll walk around the friggin’ block whilst laying off a the Soppresate, and the like.