You think I sat down because I wanted to hold myself up? When I come home after a long day of playing Mass Effect, I expect that I’m not going to have to worry about the little things, like having dinner ready and holding up my own goddamn arms.
My arms are heavy, man. Not that they’re fat, but they have virtually no muscle on them, which is because I got used to most chairs having armrests. My holder-upper muscles (as my personal trainer calls them*) have atrophied. And like a child raised in space–as so many these days are–once I’ve adjusted to the lazy life, I’m not gonna want to lift my fucking arms for anybody.
I think what bothers me about this is that it would have been so little work for you to add armrests. It’s like, two extra screws and a tiny chunk of tree, that’s all you need. You could make an armrest with less effort than it takes to hold your arms up without one.
If this were an interview, this would be the part where I’d say, “This interview is over!” Then I’d unzip my fly, say, “And now I’m gonna pee on your cat,” and I’d pee on your cat.
Although I think my personal trainer is right about this, it’s kind of a “broken clock” situation since normally his workout advice is to masturbate vigorously. I bet I miss fewer workouts than you do, but I also bet you don’t have to get a new gym membership every week.
