Rock Box. Once a month, just so your uterus doesn't get all the glory. Holocene on E. Burnside. Bring the extra singles left over from Sassy's to feed the photobooth.
Post sweat fest, jog across the river to neck snap (you should be good and warmed up from Rock Box, but a little precautionary stretching never hurt anyone) and arm pump to some the best delicacies P Land has to offer. The line-up is thick and juicy. Like a good tenderloin. Which, until Morning Star evolves exponentially, I'll know nothing about.
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