Fred Aiken Writing

March 27, 2025

Fear Not the Fitness Influencer

3am and there’s no one else at the gym except for the fitness influencer that’s been up for the past 18hours with the help of fistfuls of creatine and energy drinks injected straight into their blood stream, but no illicit drugs–ALL NATTY, BABY!!!–so don’t even suggest that they’re taking some sort of Kentucky-Derby-style cocktail that may or may not (but probably definitely) responsible for the death of Sea Biscuit, because the fitness influencer doesn’t do drugs, just reps, after reps, after reps, as they get their camera shot at just the right angle, for 4hours straight, for all of their wonderful, beautiful, envious viewers at home wanting to see how they do it, how do they do it?, get their bodies to look like some sort of action figure, gigabytes of data in film content that’s ready to upload and broadcast to their dedicated and loving fan base willing to shell out hard-earned (though barely missed) cash for vitamins made in some sweatshop half-way around the world in a country the fitness influencer couldn’t pronounce, much less tell you what sort of life they live, what sort of issues they face, but that doesn’t matter, there’s no time to sit still and contemplate that sort of negativity, no time for depressing thoughts, need to get up–GET UPP!–and then maybe bend down to touch your toes, because you’re not looking so hot, maybe take another supplement, lift a few more lbs, run a few more miles, down an unholy amount of salt tablets, and GET-BACK-OUT-THERE!!!!!

March 26, 2025

get outta bed

some days the most i can accomplish is getting out of bed and making some peanut butter toast,
though just because i didn't build a rocket to mars,
  or input data into a spreadsheet,
  or keep my duolingo streak,
  or sit on a golden toilet seat,
that doesn't mean the day was a bust,
since i at least wrote this dumb poem
that sounded a lot cooler in my head before i wrote it down

March 24, 2025

Back in the Day…

Back in my day, well, I’ll tell you. Back when I was younger, things were a helluva lot cheaper than they are now. Everything’s gotten so damn expensive! But back in my day, I never paid a cent. No one finger-lickin’ cent for any goshdarn thing!

Some might call it stealin’, but I say it just made good ole economic sense, if you know what I mean. Not like today. No siree. Nowadays you got all these goobernicks and fidangles and whatchahulahoopin callits. I don’t know. I certainly couldn’t say what the hell it is the youngin’s these days are all hoopla’in about. But people are payin’ whole gobs of moola for these things—always just things!—that make no goshdarn single iota of any good ole sense I was raised with.

I try to tell ‘em. I sit my grandkids down nearly once a week, and I lecture ‘em good, you see. I tell ‘em, nothing’s worth having if you can’t steal it! But their parents don’t want me tellin’ ‘em my life lessons. They think I’m corrupting their children. But I’m only givin’ ‘em the truth. The only truth I know!

But anyway, I guess I’m ramblin’, and I don’t mean to do that. I know I certainly don’t have the time, not with my age. No siree! But if you’d be so kind, dearie, and just hand over whatever’s ya got in your pocket, then I’ll be gettin’ outta your hair. I didn’t mean for this here stick-em-up to become a lecture. I tell myself not to go on any sorts of rants while I’m stealin’. But, you see, that’s easier said than done, since there’s so much gosh darn wrong with society nowadays.

Nothing like it was back in my day. Not a bit.