I oftentimes catch the dude personal trainers at my gym checking me out. But it’s not like they’re scoping out my hot bod, by any means. It’s more like looks of what are you doing to yourself? Stop doing that yourself. You have no idea what you’re doing and somebody clearly ate a bag of goldfish for dinner and man, I gotta get you alone, girl, cause you really do everything wrong, and if you give me nine hundred dollars, I could fix that, and then I could pay my rent and take my tiny girlfriend to Magic Mountain.