Powerbuilding #3- Little Big Men Who Make You Look Like A Bitch

Believe it or not, there used to be at least a half dozen dudes in World Gym Tucson just in the evening crew who could Behind The Neck Press 315lbs.  

Walking into a gym used to be a humbling experience.  Benny Podda-esque shit was commonplace- you might not see a half naked wild man covered in blood rip a water fountain out of the wall and toss it across the room, but there was enough wild-eyed screaming and ECA-fueled rampages throughout the gym that as a newcomer, you trod lightly.  But as you became inculcated in that community, you became more savage, more feral, more muscular, and far stronger.  There was no other option- kill or be kill, eat or be eaten.  If you were a tourist, you were treated as such, shunned and reviled by the locals as beneath contempt. 

I shit you not- I googled Barbarian Brothers and this came up.  This is the modern Fitspo era.  Fuck me running. 

Those times are long past.  In the PC, pink bitch, pussified modern era of lifting, everything is antiseptic, everyone's wearing "outfits," and people are too busy muttering ridiculous horseshit like "cucklord" and taking selfies while feigning injuries to justify their shit dog lifts to actually lift something heavy.  And if they actually do manage to lift some paltry weights, they're following some $100 cookie-cutter program designed for the lowest common denominator human, stressing deloads and rates of perceived exertion and a bunch of other jargon that serves as nothing but a screen for lazily slumping your way through workout after workout... but they certainly won't shy from posting videos of their ministrations on the internet in hopes of some half-hearted encouragement and pity from faceless strangers.

This is what everyone one of those no-fap, no porn pussies looks like to me.  And if you're in that shit, you're welcome- I put you back at Day 0.

Newsflash: if my Facebook and Instagram feeds are any indication, that shit does not work.  What does work is breaking your fucking ass inside out every day, with the goal of getting bigger and stronger, followed by massive meals and tons of protein.  Fuck choosing a specific diet, fuck choosing a specific program, fuck all of this new jack shit- you don't need that kind of "help."  What you need is to follow in the footsteps of giants so you can trace their path to brutality.  Along the way, you'll adopt the old school mindset, and all of this nicey-nice, happy-go-lucky, no fap, no honor, no integrity, no balls, pussy shit can get tossed in the dustbin of history along with every other horrible fad that has befallen the human race and retarded the evolution of humanity into true godhood.

Can you tell which one is on gear?  I sure as shit can't.  Now shut the fuck up and lift.

And before any scrawny, Smiegel-looking, basement-dwelling pussies come swooping out of the rafters screeching about PEDS, bear in mind the Barbarian Brothers trained together doing the same fucking program day in and day out, and only one of them was gassed up.  Stop making fucking excuses.  Don't be a fucking pussy.  It's time to start chokeslamming these excuse-making fucktards in the parking lot outside the gym for even mentioning gear- if you use it, fine, if you don't, fine.  Either way, KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT ABOUT IT.

Now, onto more programs that have made people brutally strong and jacked.

Danny "The Giant Killer" Padilla
At his heaviest, the 5'2" Giant Killer was 190lbs.  Although I realize a shredded 190 lb near-midget will still bring about screams of "Manlet" from Cheetos-dust-filled basements around the country, Padilla outlifted just about everyone you know.  He trained six days a week with massive volume and extremely short rests and has been caught on video squatting 405 for sets of twelve weighing under 190, and benched 450 when he was closer to 180 lbs. 

"I've got your manlet right here, bitch." - Danny Padilla

Padilla gave no fucks about programming or overtraining- he just bombed into the gym like a miniature Godzilla and wrecked shit.  Most of the year, Padilla would train 4 to 6 days a week, but he didn't get too panicky about missing training days.  If he missed one, he'd just pick up where he left off and continue forward like Marshawn Lynch on the goal line.  His split really never changed- he'd train chest and back on day one, shoulders and arms on day two, and legs on day three, then repeat.  He didn't wave load, use periodization, check the position of the stars, phone a friend, ask Facebook, or do any other stupid shit to tell him when to add weight to the bar, either.  Knowing that such things are more fucking retarded than the guy with the giant dent in his head that stocks the soup at the local supermarket, Padilla would just add ten pounds to the bar whenever his five sets of twelve got too easy, and then would use that weight as his working weight for successive workouts,  Keeping his rest periods to 60 seconds or less, Padilla was a fucking Tazmanian Devil in the gym, finishing a workout of two to three exercises with five sets of twelve in just over an hour (in the spirit of other training luminaries like Vince Gironda).  His offseason program looked thusly:

Chest and Back
Bench Press- 5x12 (with 2-3 warmup sets, rather than the umpteen warmup sets currently in vogue these days)
Incline Bench- 5x12
Flys- 5x12
Dumbell Pullovers- 5x12
Chins- 5x12
Bent Barbell Rows- 5x12
Cable Pulldowns- 5x12
(once a week) Deadlifts- 5x12

Shoulders and Arms
Seated Military Press-5x12 (supersetted with cable laterals)
Cable Laterals- 5x12
Rear Laterals; 5x12
Front Raises or Upright Rows- 5x12
Dumbbell Curls- 5x12
Barbell Curls- 5x12
Concentration Curls or Preacher Curls- 5x8
Lying Triceps Extensions- 5x12
Seated Overhead EZ Bar Extensions- 5x12
Pushdowns / One Arm Dumbbell Overhead Extensions- 5x12

Legs and Abs
Leg Extensions- 5x12
Squats- 5x12
Leg Presses- 5x12
Lying Leg Curls- 5x12
Standing Leg Curls- 5x12
Standing Calf Raises- 5x12
Donkey Calf Raises- 5x15
Seated Calf Raises- 5x15
Crunches or Leg Raises- 5x20

No calculations, no spreadsheets, no fucking coach, and no bullshit.  Using nothing more than a simple exercise, set and rep scheme, Padilla was able get strong enough to make just about anybody look like a punk bitch lifting next to him, with a physique that probably got him more pussy than Wilt Chamberlain.  Food for thought.

I will mentally facefuck your preconceived notions about the utility of bodybuilding out of you.

Rich Gaspari
Few bodybuilders seem to arouse the weird, impotent enmity of messageboard warriors like Rich Gaspari, the Dragon Slayer.  At the age of 50, Gaspari could bench 225 for 25 reps and could rock front raises with the 100s (much to the bizarre chagrin of the weaksauce and bitch-made messageboard warriors who profess to train), but in his prime Gaspari was squatting just under 700 lbs and deadlifting 495 for 12 at a bodyweight of around 215lbs.   Not too shabby for a guy who was known for being ultra-shredded rather than a monster in the weight room... though he'd trash just about anybody you could put him up against at his bodyweight in the gym today.

 

Not a fan of the ultra-high rep shit that was in vogue when Gaspari competed, he preferred to train like a goddamned maniac with ultra heavy weights, low reps (even precontest), twice a day, 6 days a week.  His approach was simple- lift weights until his fucking eyes bled with less fucks given than John Wayne Gacy at a children's birthday party, low calorie diet and everyone else be damned.  The man tore through weights like a cruel condom through a gay man's sphincter, and his physique reflected that.  Grainier than a block of granite and harder than a diamond in an ice storm, Gaspari was a fucking beast.  Here's how he did it.  [SPOILER ALERT: He didn't have a coach, a team, a program, conjugate periodization, prehab, Rumble Rollers, or any of the other unnecessary bullshit everyone seems to think is indispensable these days, because all of that shit is extraneous nonsense that only slack-jawed pussies need, and their reliance on such things is a virtual guarantee they will never achieve greatness.]

Day One
AM Workout
Calves
Donkey Calf Raises- 5x15 (with two people on his back and a dip belt.  He'd do a drop set where he'd have one guy jump off, then the second, then drop the dip belt)
Seated Calf Raise- 5x15 (last set was a triple drop set)

Chest (last sets all done to failure)
Incline Dumbbell Press- 5x8-12
Incline Flyes- 4x8-12
Barbell Bench Press- 4x6-10 (drop set on the last set)
Dumbbell Flyes / Pec Deck- 4x10-12
Weighted Dips- 3x10
Cable Crossovers — 3 10-12

Abdominals
Lying Crunches- 4x50
Hanging Leg Raises- 4x50
Twisting Cable Crunches 3x50

Cardio (followed by posing practice)

Day One
PM Workout
Arms (Superset Triceps and Biceps)
Pushdowns supersetted with Incline Dumbbell Curls- 4x10-12
Skullcrushers supersetted with Seated EZ Preacher Curls- 4x10-12
Seated French Curls supersetted with Rope Pushdowns- 4x10-12
Kickbacks supersetted with Dumbbell Concentration Curls- 3x10-12

One hour of posing

Day Two
AM Workout
Back (from his '88 season, with his training weights)
Front Pulldowns- 3x10-12 reps, 250 lbs max weight
Reverse-Grip Pulldowns- 3x10-12 reps, 220 lbs max weight
Seated Cable Rows- 3x10-12 reps, 300 lbs max weight
One-Arm Dumbbell Rows- 3x10-12 reps, 200 lbs max weight
Barbell Rows- 4x10-12 reps, 365 lbs max weight
Deadlifts- 3x10-12 reps, 495 lbs max weight
Back Extensions- 3x12-15 reps, 45 lbs max weight

Abdominals- Same as day one
 
Cardio

 

Note the utter lack of training journals, percentage tables, or other useless accoutrements of the modern trainee.

Day Two
PM Workout

Shoulders
Arnold Presses- 5x6-10 (drop set on last set)
Seated or Standing Side Laterals- 5x10-12 (drop set on last set)
Standing Upright Rows supersetted with Two-Arm Cable Side Laterals- 3x12
Standing Front Dumbbell Laterals- 3x10
Bent Over Dumbbell Laterals- 4x10-12
Behind the Neck Shrugs- 5x10-12

One hour of posing

Day 3
AM Workout
Legs
Leg Extensions- 5x12-15 (have partner push down to make the negative phase more difficult)
45-Degree Leg Press- 5x15
Hack Squats supersetted with Sissy Squats- 5x15
Walking Lunges / Reverse Lunges on a Smith Machine- 5x15
Lying Leg Curls — 5x12-15
Stiff-Legged Deadlifts — 4-5x15

No cardio or posing after leg training

Day 3
PM Workout
Calf Training same as Day One

Abdominal Training same as Day One

So there you have it- a veritable roadmap for getting strong and, and it likely in no way resembles the techniques of the modern trainee.  As I know that there is an oncoming rush of whining out Redditors about gatekeeping, cuckolds, betas, and whatever the fuck other nonsensical and bizarrely misunderstood terms are in vogue to spew online these days, consider the following from an interview with the incredibly, strong, jacked, and mentally unstable 1980s bodybuilder Mike Quinn:

"To sum it up, bodybuilding in the eighties was awesome and the [modern era was] a huge disappointment. In the eighties, your training was the most important thing, then came diet, and the drugs were a distant third. That hierarchy seems to have reversed itself since then. Now kids will come up to me and their first question is usually how much I bench. Right after that they want to know what steroids I use. It's so pathetic."

Clearly, it's not just me who thinks that the modern trainee is bitch-made.  Ditch your program.  Dump your coach.  Forget about whatever the fuck Pubmed bullshit is in vogue these days.  If you want to know what works, you simply have to look at the pre-internet era, when people relied on their balls and their brains to get jacked as fuck, rather than nameless online dickheads with less knowledge about training than your average housewife, but a fuckload of opinions about it.  What matters is your mentality- the execution will follow.  

Just get out there and make it fucking happen.

Sources:
Danny Padilla Workout.  Musclenet.  Web.  23 Dec 2017.  http://www.musclenet.com/danny-padilla-workout.html

Mielke, Myron.  Rich Gaspari The Dragon Slayer.  I'm A Bodybuilder.  Web.  22 Feb 2015.  http://www.imabodybuilder.com/gaspari.html

Merritt, Gerg.  Hardcore Contender - Rich Gaspari.  Flex Online.  Web.  22 Feb 2015.  http://www.flexonline.com/training/hardcore-contender-rich-gaspari#sthash.2hgmkyR9.dpuf

Merritt, Greg.  Rated hardcore.  Flex Online.  Web.  22 Feb 2015.  http://www.flexonline.com/training/rated-hardcore

T Nation.  The black sheep of bodybuilding: an interview with Mike Quinn.  T Nation.  26 Mar 2004.  Web.  23 Dec 2017.  https://www.t-nation.com/pharma/black-sheep-of-bodybuilding

The War On Coffee and Common Sense, Or More Reasons Why We Should Start Gutting Vegetarians And Vegans

Few people in the world combine a marked distaste for evolutionary science, crippled intellects, shoddy understanding of the human body, stupid religious beliefs of which they're likely unaware, and the kind of unlikeability that would make a sleepover with Rosanne, Martin Short, and Gilbert Gottfried seem like more fun than a barrel full of monkeys like vegetarians and vegans do.  Frankly, thinking people should be avoiding vegetarians and vegans with the same assiduousness that we did leprosy or cholera years ago, but for some reason we allow them to bleat their insipid beliefs in public in spite of the fact we'd hang a beating on creationists for doing the same.  Preachy in ways you'd think only big tent revivalist preachers could be, steadfast in their total unwillingness to consider things like science or reason, and displaying the kind of smugness you only see out of shit comedians who think they're far funnier than they are, like that unfuckable bag of anti-hilarity Whitney Cummings, vegans and vegetarians ought to be exterminated with prejudice, yet we fail to do so for unknowable reasons.

That time should now be at an end, because those limp-dicked, quinoa-nibbling fucktards are the reason why coffee was considered unhealthy for the better part of 100 years, and their virulent campaign of disinformation persists even today.  So when you're standing in line to get your espresso behind some manbun-bearing dipshit in vegan, fair trade, "thrifted" clothing, kick him in the fucking spine and tell him to go stink of fucking patchouli elsewhere, because it was his kind of inescapably annoying dipshit who fucked up the coffee industry throughout the 20th century and campaigned hard to drive that delicious, caffeine-bearing elixir out of existence.

Get fucked, you broccoli-eating bitches.  Might as well say "Contains nothing useful."

"Not so!", you say?  Yeah, fucking so.  Prior to the insipid meddling of those twig-gnawing ruminant fucks in the early 20th Century, coffee was seen for what it is- a healthy liquid repast designed to uplift the consumer and improve their mood and day.  The unrelentingly psychotic anti-sex progenitors of the modern vegetarian movement, otherwise known as Seventh Day Adventists (who should be drawn and fucking quartered should you ever encounter one), decided that they should save us all from the evils of orgasms, heavy musculature, meat-consumption, chocolate, coffee, aggressiveness, winning, pride, badassery, and basically everything that has made humanity the dominant species on the planet. 

 From the descriptions of how they'd punish their kids for touching themselves, Infernal Restraints isn't too far off.

In the place of all that, these sanctimonious sacks of rancid monkey shit decided to foist breakfast cereal, graham crackers, and Postum on the world, while they resorted to putting children into bondage or chastity to keep them from masturbating to whatever the laughable version of Infernal Restraints was back then.  With girls they actually took that a step further, and would rub carbolic acid on their clits.  That's right, in John Harvey Kellogg (inventor of Corn Flakes, actually recommended in his hilariously psychotic book, Plain Facts for Old and Young:

"In females, the author has found the application of pure carbolic acid to the clitoris an excellent means of allaying the abnormal excitement, and preventing the recurrence of the practice in those whose will-power has become so weakened that the patient is unable to exercise entire self-control (296).

And when these shit-sipping frittatas weren't torturing their children, they were running around slapping hamburgers out of strangers' hands and dumping their coffee in the gutter.  Kellogg was obsessed with the control of diet and we have him to blame for the invention of breakfast cereal, which basically ruined breakfast until champion propagandist Eddie Bernays replaced with bacon and eggs.  Though reading this shit now makes you think the man should have died penniless in the gutter wearing a tinfoil hat, people actually took what said to heart.  So when he would write this insane dogshit, it stuck with people:

"3. Discard all stimulating food. Under this head must be included spices, pepper, ginger, mustard, cinnamon, cloves, essences, all condiments, pickles, etc., together with flesh food in any but moderate quantities. It is hardly to be expected that all who have been accustomed to use these articles all their lives, will discard them wholly at once, nor, perhaps, that many will ever discard them entirely; but it would be better for them to do so, nevertheless.

4. Stimulating drinks should be abstained from with still greater strictness. Wine, beer, tea, and coffee should be taken under no circumstances. The influence of coffee in stimulating the genital organs is notorious. Chocolate should be discarded also. It is recommended by some who suppose it to be harmless, being ignorant of the fact that it contains a poison practically identical with that of tea and coffee.

Hot drinks of all kinds should be avoided (302-303).

I swear I've seen that hand gesture somewhere before.

So if Kellogg was Hitler, CW Post was Goebbels (and although that's hyperbole, the Seventh Day Adventists supported the Nazi cause).  After having a couple of nervous breakdowns, Post went to Kellogg's Battle Creek Sanitarium, where that soft-headed dickbag was fully indoctrinated in Kellogg's insane plan to neuter the entire human race.  Post decided he was going to go full-tilt boogie with it and invented what seems to have been unanimously considered to be the most horrible goddamned thing anyone's ever dumped down their neck- the bran muffin-flavored drink named Postum.  As such, Post started to give them reasons to drink Postum rather than coffee- namely, he manufactured the lie that coffee stunts your growth.  This was clearly a bold-faced lie for anyone with a brain, as coffee's been considered nearly magical since it was first discovered in Ethiopia.  Among other ridiculous claims, Post relentlessly ran ads stating insane shit like:

• "by crowding milk out of the diet of children, coffee is a cause of undernourishment. It robs children of their rosy cheek sand sparkling eyes. It lowers their vitality, lessens their resistance to disease, and hampers proper development and growth." 
• Outright lied and stated they had a research study showing coffee brought down kids' grades.
• "Children 'brought up' on Postum are free from the evil effects of caffeine—the habit-forming drug—in coffee and tea" (Weissman).

They seriously pushed so hard on America that Post invented a superhero who flew around protecting unsuspecting kids from coffee while they were probably so terrified of touching the groins that taking a leak sent them into hysterics.

Given that the man behind Postum also tried to convince people that Grape Nuts were both edible and cured appendicitis and that meat was made of evil, you couldn't really put anything past him.  The man would have stolen your wallet and raped babies if it would have advanced his cause.  A massive dickhead by all accounts, but the"lessons" he imparted to an entire generation regarding detriments to one's health coffee could cause have taken damn near 100 years to debunk, and you'll still hear idiots say it's unhealthy.  So, here's a handy list of health benefits you can scream at vegetarian while you're handing them a Chris Brown style beating:

• lower incidence of various diseases including liver and colorectal cancer
• improved energy levels
• Improved memory, mood and cognition
• fat loss
• lower risk of stroke
• improved physical performance
• lower risk of type 2 diabetes
• reduced chance of getting Alzheimer's disease
• lowered risks of getting Parkinson's
• protects against cirrhosis
• fights depression

... and while we're at it, it does not raise the risk of heart problems (Gunnars).

So, the next time one of these no-good chai soy latte-sipping fuckwads tells you anything at all, just punch them dead in the goddamned mouth, because they'd be pissing on your leg and telling you it was raining minutes later.  Coffee is the elixir of the gods, and there's not a fucking thing a human who doesn't eat steak has to say that's worth hearing even coffee wasn't better for you than blowjobs.

Sources:
Gunnars, Kris.  13 health benefits of coffee, based on science.  Healthline.  15 June 2017.  Web.  15 Dec 2017.  https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/top-13-evidence-based-health-benefits-of-coffee

John Harvey Kellogg.  Wikipedia.  Web.  15 Dec 2017.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Harvey_Kellogg

Kellogg, John Harvey.  Plain Facts for Old and Young.  Web.  15 Dec 2017. http://web.archive.org/web/20130702215936/http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/etcbin/toccer-new2?id=KelPlai.sgm&images=images/modeng&data=/texts/english/modeng/parsed&tag=public&part=11&division=div1

CW Post.  Wikipedia. Web.  15 Dec 2017.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C._W._Post

Weissman, Jordan.  The devious ad campaign that convinced America that coffee is bad for kids.  The Atlantic.  Dec 2013.  Web.  15 Dec 2017.  https://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2013/12/the-devious-ad-campaign-that-convinced-america-coffee-was-bad-for-kids/282676/

Do It. Don't Fucking Talk About It.

I've decried the modern era of lifting for a wide variety of things ranging from people treating competitive lifting like a fun run to the idiotic dogmatism people have for certain training methods / disciplines to rampant consumerism, but perhaps no other modern era tendency in lifting is more ubiquitous or fucking annoying than the tendency people have to endlessly talk about lifting on the internet.  Day in and day out people are yammering on about their latest unmemorable workout, their new program, what diet they're on, or asking questions about a mishmash of those things and making vast proclamations about what they intended to do.  This phenomenon has come to make me hate the online community of lifters that I'd lose sleep over the fact that the gym is no longer the bastion of awesome it once was, but is instead filled with people I would literally as soon kill as look at.  The internet has literally ruined lifting, the lifting community, gyms, and has made just about everyone with whom I might have had something in common nothing more than prey and a target for pure hatred. 

Why anyone gives a shit what you did for your daily workout is a mystery to me.  I'm reasonably certain if anyone does, it's a bunch of pasty-faced doughy fucktards jerking their dicks to lifting vids, never having lifted a day in their lives.  The whole thing is so bizarre and narcissistic I have trouble understanding how I'm part of the same species.  And worse than being confusingly conceited (since everyday lifting is pretty drab), it serves absolutely no purpose.  "Didn't feel 100% but posted this stupid bullshit anyway / felt off / my dog was triggered by what a cat said to him so I was distracted / whatever" THEN DON'T FUCKING POST IT.  Journalists don't get to just vomit a bunch of lackluster bullshit onto the news page accompanied by weak-assed excuses and caveats because they desperately required validation.  Chess players aren't posting random lost games online with a litany of saddie commentary about how they weren't feeling up to snuff, BECAUSE EVEN CHESS PLAYERS ARE TOUGHER THAN LIFTERS AT THIS POINT.  Where the fuck is your pride?  Is that your identity?  Your identity is endless excuses and mediocrity?  

Has both a training log and the shitty physique to show for it.

And if you are claiming it's for a training log, I call bullshit.  First, training logs are for the retarded- if you can't remember what you lifted, spend less time fucking around on the internet while you're in the gym and acting like a professional photographer and FUCKING LIFT.  Maybe if you're less distracted with fucking Fitspiration (holy shit you people make me want to smash my laptop with a hammer because you're more annoying than a flock of midgets singing songs from the Wizard of Oz and more pathetic than Louie CK's game with women) and taking selfies while acting like the next George fucking Butler, you could remember what you'd lifted.  Second, if it were part of a training log, you'd either have insanely truncated workouts or you're a fucking liar because you're never going to watch 60+ minutes of training.

Huh.  Weird.  The man said nothing about begging for attention from strangers.

Which in no way brings me to my point, but as I'm gonna digress about 100 more times about how much I hate just about everyone on the planet I'll rein it in.  Rocky Marciano once said (and I think this is an old Italian adage), "Do it.  Don't talk about it."  The man was the only undefeated heavyweight champion ever and was so undersized he'd even be a small cruiserweight today.  In spite of being pocket-sized and not particularly quick or skilled, he out-worked everyone and went on to win 43 fights by knockout.  This beast never talked about being the champ outside of the ring- the neighborhood kids were amazed that he'd come home from fights and toss the football around with them in the street like regular-old Joe Blow.  Did he ever bore them to fucking death with talk of his workouts, or his diet, or any other of the minutia you fucking people endlessly discuss as if it matters in the slightest?  No- he was too busy training, or reading books, or playing football with neighborhood kids, or practicing his Italian.  There's a great big wide world out there, assholes.  Shut the fuck up about training and your diet and learn about it. 

That's what giving 100% effort looks like.  Notice she's not taking a selfie while doing it.

What matters is exactly what you lack: effort.  Execution.  And the reason?  You spend so much energy boring everyone to death with talk of what you're doing or going to do that you siphons energy from what you should be doing- training.  You're an energy leech off yourself and others (not that you care about anyone else, because the internet generation are the most self-serving, self-absorbed, whiny, purportedly disordered, useless sacks of monkey shit the world has ever seen) and you're preventing yourself from being anything than what the hideously vast majority of you are- pathetically average or below average.

While we're at it, STOP TELLING PEOPLE YOUR TRAINING AND PHYSIQUE GOALS.  Holy shit.  Years ago, I thought I had driven this fucking point home harder than Paul Walker drove his into a lamp post, but here's a refresher- if you tell people your goals, you're less likely to achieve them than Paul Walker and Ryan Dunn are to star in the next (and hopeful last) Fast and the Furious.  It's science- you create something called a social reality in which your brain thinks its achieved the goal already, and the social recognition you all crave so much makes you so fucking happy inside that you just throw up your hands and say fuck it.  And then proceed to bore us all with endless posts of spiritless gym drudgery replete with the aforementioned excuses.

When I become Overlord of this dumpster fire we call a planet, this picture represents just the start of what I'm going to do the internet form nazis and their shitpile families.

Finally, the worse form of the talkers are the fuckwits critiquing form online, and they should just die.  Long and slow.  They're a pussy or a cunt, their mom is a whore, their dad is a bitch, and their brothers and sisters should have been aborted.  9/10 of them have never lifted a fucking thing heavier than a jug of milk, and the other 1/10 are insecure pussies who for whatever reason feel the need to diminish the accomplishments of others to pump up their already overinflated egos  It's fucking pathetic, and while they should kill themselves, they won't because they're bitch-made to the point they make Kevin Spacey look like a paragon of masculinity and virtue.  To them I say: I hope you all get mouth cancer and your kids are born deformed.  Weak sauce, bitch made cunts.

The Road Warriors never spoke a word to anyone about their shitty workouts... nor would they have made excuses for one either.  They would have just sacked the fuck up and soldiered on.

To Wrap Things Up...

This is not your sport.  And I don't mean, maybe you're just not all that good and blah, blah, blah.  I mean this is my sport.  It's the sport of the people who trained in the 1970s, 80s, and 90s who didn't define themselves by a particular weightlifting discipline- they just lifted and busted their asses and had fun doing it.  People who were perfectly happy to hear your training maxes because they only competed to prove they were the best, rather than get some worthless trophy or medal to validate their existence.  The sport of people who would all show up to a competition if someone in their gym was competing because it meant that person had a legit shot at winning- and even if they didn't we'd descend on a pizza place in a mob and bullshit about just about anything but training afterwards.  This is the sport of the dudes who trained outside at Muscle Beach in the 1960s.  This is the sport of Saxon and Goerner and the dudes who trained in their gyms and trained like fucking lunatics.  If you don't want to be awesome, if you don't want to exhibit the modicum of personal pride that should prevent you from posting lackluster videos on the internet and endlessly discussing training minutae online while skipping workouts or meals, if you need Fitspo to get into the gym or not fall down weeping when someone doesn't tell you how pretty you are in the office one day, then GET THE FUCK OUT.  We don't want you.  We don't need you.  We don't like you.  We fucking hate you.  We want the fucking weight stack to fall on your weepy little head every time we see you in the gym.

Now fucking get out there. I want you to change the world. Don't think it'll change peacefully or you can do it alone. You need to eat the weak. You get out there. You use your hatred and you rip weightrooms apart. You hunt down the armchair internet form critics, the Fitspo cunts on Instagram, the fitness models, the scumbags with GoFundMe pages for competitions, and the loudmouth natty pussies, the unqualified coaches, the people who won't shut up about their fucking macros, the sensitive. Because they're all the same. And you... you rip their fucking guts out. Drape them on your Christmas tree! Make a mountain of their skulls in the foyer of your local gym.  We need a cleanse, people. We need a reboot. We need a new chance for all of us. But I cannot do this work alone. I need you not to suck.  Or I will have to break into your fucking house and eat you.

Eat Shit That Tastes Good And Get Some Yogurt (Or Probiotics) Down Your Neck Or Pay The Fucking Price

If the choice is eating like this or finding out what a .45 round tastes like hot out of the barrel, hand me that hand cannon and pour some Dave's Insanity Sauce on the bullet before I pull the trigger.  And Mrs. Goddamned Dash?  You've got to be fucking joking.

We've all fallen into the trap of eating to feed the machine- it's been a badge of pride for me throughout the years, and I know it is for many bodybuilders.  Glorying in the asceticism of eating bland, unfulfilling meals with perfect macros and reveling in the superiority of the stoic refusal to eat a slice a pizza while out with your friends on Friday night, or refusing altogether to go out and silently proclaiming your supremacy over the people around you who refused to live like some weird, tan monk in an effort to achieve weight-induced enlightenment.  Some of us have done it.  It's "the life."

Just say no to asceticism.

If you've ever attempted this sort of asceticism, you know that it was pretty much wholly unnecessary.  As I mentioned above, I managed to stay reasonably lean, maintain most of my size, and not get too horrifically fat eating nothing but summer sausage and ramen noodles, and I barely had access to weights.  I discovered then that it was possible to out-train my diet, which was a fact of which I had an inkling when I managed to stay pretty big and lean after a year of literally nothing but vodka, chicken fingers, strip steak, pizza, and tater tots.  Does this mean I was completely wrong to diet so hard for years and years, treating carbohydrates like they were tainted with fallout from a dirty bomb?

There is no reason why anyone should have to live that way.

Nah, but I was onto something.  Taste, texture, and smell all affect digestion, and good digestion is critical to good healthy.  If your gorge is rising in your throat due to the fact that you're spooning canned chicken slathered in a bit of Texas Pete's into your face, your stomach is not prepared to deal with digesting that slightly-better-than-cat-food bullshit... and by the way, Texas Pete's is just about the most disgusting hot sauce on the planet.  Seriously, spend some time on Amazon and find some actually tasty hot sauce if you're just gonna forcefeed yourself the type of bland pap that one would expect in a futuristic prison movie where people are being fed nutrient paste (I'll give you yet another reason why hot sauce is awesome for you later on in the article).

This is a man with depressed dopamine levels.

Why does it fucking matter?  It's simple- your digestive tract doesn't just digest your food and process nutrients- it controls 75% of your dopamine production and thus has a great deal to do with your mood.  Before I get into the details of that fact, your mood has a great deal to do with your dopamine levels- too little dopamine and you're an ice cream eating saddie in stained underwear living in your parents' basement shit-talking the depth of world record squats, and too much makes you so fucking razor focused that you're what the Terminator would jerk off fantasizing about if he has a dick (Perez, Teta).

Notice that the Oak is tucking into an inch and a half steak and not a couple of cans of tuna like some ridiculous perma bachelor with a stained ceiling from his horrific and constant fish, eggs, and oats farts.

In 2012 the awesome podcast Radiolab ran a segment on a guy who had a massive inoperable fissure in his intestines.  Docs said that the only way to fix it was to anesthetize his digestive tract and let it heal itself.  For years he was on liquid diet injected directly into his stomach, but this caused a new problem- he was so goddamned depressed he started acting insane- he literally broke into a guy's backyard to grill for him immediately after failing at suicide and wandering the streets like a deranged, syphilitic hobo.  He'd noticed that his tongue had gone completely smooth, as he'd lost his taste buds, which pissed off his vagus system worse than a hillbilly when you tell him you hate him so much you'd like to send him to country festival in Vegas.  Your vagus nerve runs from the tip of your tongue to your colon, so pissing it off can fuck up pretty much aspect of your life... and that guy nearly died from doing so.

After having another infection that had the doctors thinking he'd die if he stayed on the pump, he reintroduced solid food into his diet slowly, but still had no sense of taste because he wasn't eating foods he loved, so he was still more or less miserable.  This all changed, however, when he went to his favorite diner and got the only meal he ever ordered (which is apparently the greatest breakfast sandwich in history)... and suddenly he could taste.  One of the largest nervous systems in his body responded immediately with a Thai massage parlor happy ending in his mouth because he fed it what it wanted.  As such, it seems like saying that taste is a factor in optimal health is like saying that punching is a factor in a Ray Rice elevator trip, because both of them can cause serious and immediate changes in the health of their surrounding environment.

In case you're unfamiliar with Pol Pot, this is the class picture for University of Phnom Penh in 1969.

It goes further than that though- we can apply this to hoisting heavy shit and looking like Grecian statues.  A study using two groups of mice fed them either lactobacillus-infused broth or regular broth, then dropped them into a bowl of water.  Mice hate water more than Pol Pot hated intellectuals, but they're great swimmers.  So they'd swim all over looking for a way to escape, and at about four minutes the broth-only mice would just give up and do a dead man's float.  The lactobacillus mice, however, went on like tiny fat little Michael Phelpses and the reviewers pulled them out at six minutes while their legs pinwheeled like a dog held over water.  In the first group, there was a 100-fold increase in cortisol that caused them to burn out and shut down.  The Michael Phelps group had a huge change in the receptors for GABA (which keeps you cooler than Jason Statham karate kicking in the middle of a gun fight), and they had half of the cortisol of the other mice.  The reason for this is... the vagus nerve's stimulation with an extra-healthy colon.

To prove that the vagus nerve was the way the lactobacillus-induced changes became tiny little badasses, they conducted a second experiment in which the good swimmers had their vagus nerves cut, were still fed the probiotics, and the mice suddenly became the couch potato saddie bitches their compatriots had been.

If you want a more philosophical reason to eat shit that tastes good and avoid just eating like a half-retarded Nascar fan on a food binge around Talledega weekend, consider the fact that food links you to your heritage and your heritage to you.  Cultures have forever been definied as much by their dress or speech as their food, so if you want to be recognized as a half-retarded bodybuilding asshat who owns nothing more than a gym membership and a microwave, by all means eat like a Men's Health model.  For me, I'd rather embrace the foods of the jacked motherfuckers from history who loved eating, fighting, and fucking.  Ajax from the Trojan War or Honey Boo Boo's mom.  Take your pick.

So, if you're good to your tongue and your colon you're gonna be a fucking god in the gym.  Because science.  Dunno about you guys, but I'm to off try my hand at making triple dipped fried chicken (which I'm using for ultra-spicy chicken sandwiches) because I plan on breaking my ass at the gym tomorrow and science says I'll PR.

Sources:

Bravo JA, Forsythe P, Chew MV, Escaravage E, Savignac HM, Dinan TG, Bienenstock J, Cryan JF.  Ingestion of Lactobacillus strain regulates emotional behavior and central GABA receptor expression in a mouse via the vagus nerve.  Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A. 2011 Sep 20;108(38):16050-5.

Lehrer, Jonah and Carl Zimmer.  Guts.  Season 10, Episode 7.  3 Apr 2012.  Web.  14 Nov 2017.  Radiolab.  http://www.radiolab.org/story/197242-gut-feelings/

Perez SM, Carreno FR, Frazer A, Lodge DJ.  Vagal Nerve Stimulation Reverses Aberrant Dopamine System Function in the Methylazoxymethanol Acetate Rodent Model of Schizophrenia.  J Neurosci. 2014 Jul 9; 34(28): 9261–9267.

Teta, Jade.  Is your brain making you fat?  Metabolic Effect.  21 May 2009.  Web.  14 Nov 2017.  https://www.metaboliceffect.com/is-your-brain-making-you-fat/