Mr. Banana Hammock's SuperFreak Workout for Juiced-Up Psychos.

Sitting in my office. Tired. Contemplating what to wear for Halloween at the office later this month. I’m in my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. I’m thinking maybe I’ll be a 70s porn star, except I have no time to grow a moustache. I’m thinking maybe I’ll wear my lime green polyester Armani leisure suit. Buffalo shirt. I’m thinking that should definitely get the ladies of the Orange line pretty hot, although frankly, they’re already pretty overheated in my humble opinion.

This morning I’m riding the Orange line from Farragut West to Dunn Loring. It’s about 8:30 AM. The women are all over me. I cannot even get into my Atlantic article on North Korea. One lovely wants a charcoal rubbing of my abs. Another wants me to bend a piece of iron rebar she brought along with her this morning into an origami animal shape. Using my glutes. “Leaping Stag,” she says. I oblige. A third drops to her knees ands starts clawing at my crotch, muttering something about buffing my banana hammock. I pick her up, hand her a glass of water and a fistful of Valium. I tell her I am commando this morning and remind her of what happened to Icarus.

I finally make it into work, grab a double-cap-frap-half-caf-mocha-PowerBar from the cafeteria, and head down to the gym. I slip out of my Carla Behrle leather pants and into my lime green banana hammock, securing it in place with some bikini bite. I’ve designed a routine in preparation for my competition in the Bali Jute Mill Bodybuilding Invitational in Bangladesh coming up soon. I need an extra pump and extra fast. I call it Mr. Banana Hammock's SuperFreak Workout for Juiced-Up Psychos. It has a nice ring I think, don’t you? It only takes 45 minutes. I shower. Air drying, I pose in the mirror and take it all in -- muscle mass, density, ripped definition, intensity, stamina, endurance, mental focus, dignity, flair. I slip back into my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. I head back to the office.

Me you ask? Clothes horse. Politically aware. Dispenser of pharmaceuticals to the needy. Celebrating all of the holidays with panache. That is what I am about. And if you feel the need to claw at my crotch, make sure I am not commando. Unless of course you’re not worried about melting your wings.