Tam and I were having a conversation the other day about my newly repaired shoulder, and I had made mention of the fact that now maybe I could spend some time working out without fear of imminent dislocation (at least this has always been my excuse for not working out. It's really not that I am a big ol' lazy bastard). Tam then said, not without a healthy share of sarcasms, that I would soon become a beefcake. Now, I have had plenty of beef in my life, and I have had my fair share of cake as well, but the chance of these two entities forming into the singular beefcake are far from likely.