I’ve Missed the Gym

Poor William Billy Howell and Devail Anderson at Snap Fitness in Clarksdale, MS

By POOR WILLIAM

CLARKSDALE, Mississippi

NOTE: The reason Poor William and Pontificus both love to refer to themselves in the third person is because many politicians and preachers do it all the time, and the two boys want to share in the awesome sense of grandeur the third person spoken in the first person provides to such splendiferous leaders.

Poor William’s boyhood friend, idol, and great American, Slim Jim Peay made a comment on the Delta Bohemian, in reference to the recent article, “If a Little is Good, then…” He refers to Poor William by one of his childhood nicknames, Lil Round.

Lil Round’s dad, Roundman, was legendary for many reasons, two of them being his fantastic intellect and his illustrious size. With a daddy named Roundman, how much of a chance did a fellow named Lil Round have at staying lithe and svelte in his later days?

Poor William was not much of an athlete in high school. Oh, he played several sports, but he was 3-foot nothing and did not possess his now-honed moves of a jungle cat and his killer instinct guarded by his very reputation. Wait, he doesn’t have a reputation–at least not a good one.

Well, Lil Round has been in the gym for the last six-out-of-seven days, and he fears the Olympic hopeful might have ridden all the rough off several treadmills. He daily lives with the envy seen in the eyes of those with “guns” larger than his, but smaller than his could be. Oh yeah, they know potential when basking in his understated glory.

Poor William saw a fellow working out in the gym who had upper arms bigger than Poor William’s thighs. They were the size of Civil War cannons. No kidding. He wants cannons like that, but he is not sure yet how he can “think” his way into possessing them.

He and his marital Magical cohort have started working out daily at Snap Fitness and eating fresh food, though they do plan on keeping their alternating Sunday-after-church visits to Abe’s Barbeque and Atzimba Mexican restaurant. Poor William lost his twelve-step battle with pork, dips, fried shrimp and oysters on Super Bowl Sunday. It was ugly and brutal.

Recently, Poor William hit his all time high in the weight category. He heard an audible grown from his bathroom scales when he gingerly eased up on them.

The final straw occurred when Poor William realized he could no longer see his Johnson (No! Not Little Shaw Johnson The Third) without looking in a mirror–time for a major behavioral paradigm shift.

In a mere seven days, he has seen his energy level skyrocket, his breathing become easier as he climbs steps at The Clark House and the Salon de Boheme, while observing the sheer evaporation of seven pounds of something other than muscle. The Johnson should come into view later this week. Woohoo!

His girth is literally being shred before his eyes. Hot chicks and women on the periphery are already contemplating which pair of panties they will throw at him, just as they threw them at Poor William’s fellow Welshman, Tom “What’s New Pussycat” Jones.

Poor William will likely need to slow his roll at the gym, as it will overly tax his Magical Bride, who will be tasked with beating the plethora of dames off of him with a Buford Pusser McNairy County “Walking Tall” puck wood stick.

He is glad to be back in the gym, but make no mistake; it sure ain’t easy being Poor William.

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