My husband wants to kill me...

Okay, not really. He doesn't want to kill me...let me explain.

It would seem that my husband, the love of my life, is just as susceptible to informercials as I am. But, instead of Pancake Puff Pans and magic cleaning solutions, he spies a "complete workout solution".

Siiiiiiiiiiigh.

My husband doesn't need to lose weight. He's PERFECT. But he feels that he needs to get "ripped" again. Mmmmm...Oh, anyway, I digress. He wants the body back that he used to have, when he was in sports and the like. Hell, honey...I'd like my high school body back, too. We BOTH remember when I was a lifeguard and had a six-pack that you could break eggs on. DEPRESSING. Let's not go there.

So listen to this. P90X means Power 90x. 90 equals the number of days this system runs. I suppose you could stretch it out (God, let's hope). You're are SUPPOSED to work out for one hour a day, 7 days a week. Hold on...that's like, one hour less than a full work day. Jesus.

There are 12 different workouts (each with their own DVD) which includes: Chest and Back, Plyometrics, Shoulders and Arms, Yoga X, Legs an Back, Kenpo X, X Stretch, Core Synergistics, Chest, Shoulders and Triceps, Back and Biceps, Cardio X, and Ab Ribber X.

Ab Ripper? [explicative deleted]

Why all the X's? Who are they trying to scare? (If it's me, it's working...)

You also get a calendar (so you can track your torture...I mean...progress) and some kind of nutritional guide.

So once I get past the, "Oh my God I will absolutely keel over and die" sentiments flowing through my mind, I start to think, "Hey...it wouldn't be a bad thing really!" I need exercise. If Brandon can be my partner and motivation, that would be fantastic.

Plus, (and hopefully this isn't my only motivation) I know Brandon would do awesome at it, and be totally rockin' after the 90 days. I, obviously, need to be in good shape and be packing some serious muscle to beat bitches down when they look at him.

:) Wish me luck! I'll need it!