So guess who just happened to sign-up at my little gym today?
Yes, it's Kyan Douglas from 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.'
As I was ascending the stairs I saw him in all his err...glory...he was really quite ordinary looking in person. I then proceeded to get on my fave treadmill and have a silent gay vs. gay cardio-race.
Kyan on elliptical vs. Kyle on treadmill.
It was pretty epic. My ass was very sweaty by the end of our mother-loving battle because I was prancing at a much faster pace than I usually do. If we end up being at the gym at the same time everyday, I am going to be one svelte-ass fatherfucker.
My next train of thought was, 'what the baby's fist is Kyan doing at my gym?', which is the nicest one in Williamsburg, albeit a far cry from a luxurious homo harem. I mean, there is only a small steam room which is usually occupied by only one very swarthy sausage of a man.
After 2 minutes of exhaustive internet research, I found that he lives with his gay rights activist lover-man in Brooklyn. So that explains it.
Now my big dilemma is, do I act like I have no idea who he is, thereby granting him the anonymity that he probably so dearly craves...or give into my girlish desire to fawn over him while he is alllll stinky?
