The other day at the gym, I was scratching myself just before rinsing my mouth out at the drinking fountain. I then noticed a tear in the seam of my spandex body suit (it’s great for nights out in Marin with the addition of biking cleats) when I randomly thought, “Fuck, what’s this gym gonna do about the serious lack of Union Jack?” And then, down on the treadmill, sha-mutha-fuckin-zam.