Cultural lessons

I’m a Racist Twat

And so are you, you fucker

So here I am at my local gym which happens to also be a so-called YMCA.

If you don’t know what the fuck that is, it’s the Young Man’s Christian Association. I’ve only been to two YMCAs in my life. I worked at the YMCA in Prescott, Liverpool in 1994 with my mate Tony with the fake tan and the muscles and the black afro and handlebar moustache and the general Turkish vibe.

This is the second YMCA I’ve visited. And yeah I know it’s an odd name for a gym. There aren’t too many young Christian men in this place I can tell ya — unless maybe they’re all out the back getting sexually abused by the staff. I don’t know.

Maybe not.

Maybe they’re all down the street dressed as paramedics and dancing at the Blue Oyster Club and singing about how it’s fun to stay at this gym n that.

So no young Christian men — I don’t think. Sorry to disappoint you.

It feels like this gym is filled almost entirely with seventy-year-old Asian men who have bodies like Jean Claude Van Der Beek.

And no, that’s not even the racist bit.