Ah, the explicit irony of glancing to the right of a naked-old-butt-at-the-rec-center post and seeing (and this is verbatim), "The Home Butt Blaster $449."  Why deal with the maligned nostalgia of free weights or drooping, naked posteriors when you could all be blasting your fannies right in your own living rooms! 

I have but this more to say: thank you for stripping the weight room nod of its utter coolness.  If ever again I visit a weightroom, I'm POSITIVE that the burliest, most muscle-bound freak of ultralegal muscle-proliferating substance will get a nod from me that's followed immediately by the kind of violent laughter that can only occur when one tries in vain to hold it in.  I'm basically blaming you for all fist-fights I'll get into with bodybuilders later.  I mean, if there's even an incling in my mind of, "There's nothing attached to the weights WE lift," it's all over. 

Therefore, thank you.  Whatever that means.