Freddy is back, and I'm famous...well, not really

I know I am way behind on posts; sorry. I know, I suck. It was either that or whack the blog once and for all and just forget about it.

But since Brandy's back, I feel honor bound to return as well.

So we'll get back to a couple shots a week at the very least.

First off, a reminder to please check out my sports takes at Examiner.com.

And click on all the ads on this site, please. They help pay for my inaction.

Meanwhile, a quick gym update:

I'm not the old fat guy in the gym anymore. We're making progress. Starting to tone up again, and I can now do an hour hard on the treadmill after lifting weights for an hour. I'm still not scrawny, thin super hot Freddy, but the arms are starting to pop again and I'm not embarrassed to walk in the gym. (Well, I wear sweats that are four times too big and a wrestling mask like Rey Mysterio, but I'm not the guy people make fun of anymore).

(Digression No. 1: Sorry for the wrestling reference. Wrestlemania was in town).

(Digression No. 2: I am about to do a social experiment regarding weight loss. Stay tuned).

Back to my point: I made yet another new friend yesterday.

We had a long day at the station, with two shows. In between, I decided to hit the gym and go as hard as possible for two hours.

I belong to a gym that has several sites around the city (you want me to name you publicly, give me a discount, folks). So I went to one near the station, which I haven't been to very often.

The guy at the desk scanned my card and did a double take.

He looked at me for a second.

"Are you Fred Faour of the Front Page?"

"Um, yes, I am."

"Wow!" he said. He was legitimately excited. His name was Trey, and he knew everything about the show. Running bits. He loved the Deaths and Inside stories. He even mentioned how much he loved the show open. "Have you ever seen a grown man naked?"

After about five minutes, I thank him for listening and told him to call the show sometime.

But I left somewhat depressed.

Don't real famous people have groupies? Like, real ones? Why is always the Treys of the world? Why couldn't it be the hottie behind the desk?

"Dude," she would say. "I LOVE the show. And I have some green jello, Evan Williams and a Spider Monkey at my place and I know how to use them ALL."

Sigh. I get Trey. And Estelle Getty. And B.B. King.

I will try again in another 15 pounds.