Incredibly rare that I’m awake and blinking the sleep out of my eyes this early on a Sunday morning, but it’s a special, violent occasion! The big Kostya Tszyu fight is on pay per view this morning, so Adam and I have a few mates coming around to watch. Now the challenge is to resist getting absolutely scroted on cheap bourbon before 11am. Adam, a member of the Tszyu Crew (kid you not) is probably already downstairs getting started.

Speaking of fitness, I had a bit of a falling out with Fistfuck First Fees First Fitness First this week. To make a long story short, I’d originally planned to suspend my membership in June while I recovered from my operation - although I’m completely fine now, and never confirmed my suspension anyway.

When I ambled into my local Fitness First this week, I was promptly informed that I’d need to pay an $80.00 fee to prematurely end my suspension (which I never confirmed anyway). The gender illusionist behind the counter seemed pretty adamant of this, so I told her that it was the last straw, grab me a membership cancellation form! I’ve fucking had it up to here with Fitness First’s overly crowded gyms, this just did it for me.

Of course, things weren’t that easy. “You’ll need to visit the gym you signed up at to cancel your membership,” the woman barked at me. Initially, this wasn’t going to be a problem, until I remembered that I signed up in Melbourne.

“Hang on,” I cocked my head at her. “Are you, in all seriousness, asking me to fly to Melbourne to cancel my gym membership?”

“This is what needs to be done,” she spat back. Crikey, they sure don’t make it easy to quit, do they? This was when I threatened to simply reverse every single credit card charge from Fitness First since I joined, as I was positive this was never mentioned in my contract. Grudgingly, she agreed to arrange for the Melbourne gym to phone me, although that was many days ago and I’ve still not heard back from them.

Seriously, though. Fuck chain gyms. The local gym near our place is nowhere near as packed, is locally owned, and the staff were really cool when I visited the gym to have a look around. I’ll sign up there as soon as I can escape from Fitness Farce’s slithery grips.

So after all of this fitness anger (which, incidentally, has me churning up so much inside, I’ve probably lost 1kg from rage alone), I decided to go catch a flick (yes, that’s cinema-hating Jeb going to the movies!) Last night I saw 2046, which I’d only heard great things about.

Now, look. I’m all for arthouse movies. But this was arthouse for arthouse movie lovers. Arthouse porn, if you will. The flick seemed to be one confusing scene endlessly repeated, over and over:

CHOW: I bought a present for you.
RANDOM WOMAN: Don’t touch me there!
CHOW: I would like to give you $10.
RANDOM WOMAN: (high pitched giggle and shriek) I don’t care if you fuck other women!
CHOW: (fucks then retreats to his hotel room)
RANDOM WOMAN: (tear slides out of one eye only, runs down cheek, camera remains in extreme close up as she smokes a cigarette for five minutes)

FLASH FORWARD TO THE YEAR 2046 (bearing in mind the film is set in the 1960s!)

JAPANESE MAN: Nobody will ever return from this train.
ANDROID: Would you like an alcoholic beverage? (LG product placement appears four times within one minute)
JAPANESE MAN: When I was young, and people wanted to tell a secret, they would climb a mountain, dig a hole out of a tree, and whisper it into the hole. Then they would cover the hole with mud. Do you love me?
ANDROID: (tear slides out of one eye only, runs down check, camera remains in extreme close up as she looks out of a train window for five minutes)

Anyway, time for me to get ready for the fight. Undoubtedly in honour of Kostya, Adam has now even adapted a new personal motto to repeat to himself as he undergoes boxing training, which he explained to me last night.

“My motto is ‘float like a feather, sting like a wasp’,” he explained last night. Initially, this had me thinking he’d heard the quote wrong.

“Isn’t it ‘float like a feather, sting like a bee’?” I checked.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong,” he shook his head. “Unlike a bee, a wasp can continue to sting the enemy thousands of times before it dies,” he banged the table in quick, lightning-fast stabby punches, demonstrating the motto in physical form. “Sting like a wasp!” he boomed.

Could I love him any harder?

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 5th, 2005 at 8:01 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.