Speaking of reddit….. Lol just think about what a Mopeilitywod.com meet up would look like.
50% of you are misc/4chan/reddit foreveraloners who knowmyfeelsbro.jpg.
The other 50% of you are normal people who think this shit is some kind of a joke, and you keep reading, which makes you a sick, twisted fuck.
We would all get together at Mopeility S&C. All three of us (I’m assuming that only two people would come to the meet up). We would have trouble keeping a conversation going and would not make a lot of eye contact. Curiously, our bonding moments would be with sophomoric jokes about lifting, not the fact that we all identify with what it feels like to be a reject of society. Did you have a rough time in high school? Did you make simple, mutually supportive friendships that you look back on and wonder how profound the companionship was between a small number of people who knew what it was like to be misunderstood and banded together in that unity?
I’d say nervously, “Well, might as well get in a workout together, right guys?”
Terrible would say, “Ha, yeah, my pecs need a good benching.”
Broseph would say, “You should know that EMG studies have been done that show that benching, the way we perform it, actually activates the anterior deltoids more than the pecs.”
So we would all take turns warming up on the bench. The AC would be kept off so we would stay warm between sets, and as we approached our worksets we’d all reach a feverish sweat. The bench would become slick with our oils and perspiration. Our musk would mix in the air.
Unable to mask my admiration, I’d pat Terrible’s pecs affectionately. “Lookin’ pretty swole man. Where’d you get those pecs, Walmart?”
“Oh, these?” Terrible would say, flexing his left and right pectorals in mock Morse code. “Maybe I was born with it. Maybe it was Maybelline.”
Broseph would also begin to caress Terrible’s pecs, with a little more familiarity than I had. “These are pretty nice. So thick and solid.” His hand would run farther down Terrible’s front, over his bulging abdominals, built from years of heavy squatting and deadlifts. Broseph would pull Terrible’s shirt up, and I would not be able to suppress a gasp at admiration at the bulky girth of Terrible’s powerlifter waist. I struggled to stop the thoughts of watching his torso contort as he thrust into a waiting rectum, building in intensity until he reached a fever pitch and –
“I’d show you guys my side chest pose,” Broseph would interrupt my thoughts, “but I haven’t gotten my shipment of nolvadex yet.” He bit his lower lip suggestively. Based on how much he benched, I could only imagine the dosage of test cyp and deca that Broseph was injecting on a weekly basis. His natural t levels must have been decreased to nothing …
I found myself fantasizing about his puffy nipples, swollen and hard, and my tongue lashing over them as Broseph squeezed them. In my fantasies, his gyno is so severe that his pecs would be draining, draining like some kind of testosterone-laden milk into my hungry mouth.
“Hey Brent,” Terrible was panting, having just finished his last workset. “I’m getting thirsty. You wouldn’t happen to have some … protein shakes … around, would you?”
Wet at the tip with anticipation, but still trepidatious about two strange men in my apartment, I took the plunge. “I think I might some waiting in Mopeility S&C’s men’s room. Why don’t you boys cum help me make some?”
And that is why Fagmouth’s work has my blog identified as porn.
* * *
It’s going to be really awkward when I buy one of those “the donkey has no friends” shirts and then see you walking around Plano somewhere (not that I really go anywhere but Market Street and Gold’s).
Terrible, I forgot that you were in Plano. You want to hang out sometime? We could meet at Market Street for a pre-workout (or post, I dunno when you go there) meal. I used to like going there, but it’s hard to get a lot of fat from the food court. If you mean you just do your grocery shopping there – go fuck yourself, kid, I’ll stick with Trader Joe’s and my 4.16lbs chuck roast from Tom Thumb for $13.00. What I would used to do sometimes is eat something from Market Street, then boil 3-4 eggs after and eat those, then go train.
I will buy…EVERY…shirt…
No, apparently creepy is any situation in which I try to make conversation with people. So let me apologize to everyone for being creepy – I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry that I’m not normal and don’t know how to act like a regular person. I’m sorry that I’d score high on the autism scale, and I’m sorry that I don’t know how to fix it. I’m sorry that I’m more comfortable squatting a set of 5 where I can barely keep my knees out and barely grind through the 5th rep than I am talking to someone my own age. I’m sorry every time I make it through a job interview or can order a pizza without the other person hanging up on me, I’m shocked at my unprecedented level of success. I’m sorry.
Strong lack of eye contact yesterday and you looked like you were moping hard between sets.
I wanted to die for most of it.
I wish we didn’t live states away and I’d meet up with you and not make your legs into a pair of personal walking stilts.
Tell me about a recent incident in which your jimmies were rustled.
I was doing some patient history with these fucking Korean pieces of shit, and I was speaking to the dad in English, because I was born in America and I speak the fucking language of the country I live in. The mom, as I’m writing my notes down, says to the dad, IN KOREAN, “This guy’s Korean, but why doesn’t he speak it?” and they had a little chuckle between themselves, like it was some kind of fucking joke. OH I’M SORRY I WAS BORN IN BUMFUCK TEXAS AND ONLY HAD CAUCASIAN FRIENDS OR OTHER KOREAN-AMERICAN FRIENDS WHO WEREN’T FLUENT IN KOREAN, I’M SORRY I’M NOT A FUCKING IMMIGRANT AND SHOP AT H-MART EVERY WEEK BECAUSE I THINK SOYBEAN PASTE IS A FUCKING DIETARY NECESSITY, I’M SORRY YOU THINK YOUR SHIT DOESN’T FUCKING STINK BECAUSE YOU SPEAK A LANGUAGE THAT IS ASSOCIATED WITH LAUNDROMATS, DONUT SHOPS, AND MED SCHOOL DROP-OUTS.
Fuck em, they went home and watched VHS recordings of Korean news broadcasts about fan death, fucking Mickey Mouse bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.