Funny look at comps…

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Funny look at comps…

Postby muscle-militia » Sat Sep 04, 2004 5:53 pm

Many years ago, this was my first experience of comps, prep and the whole bodybuilding thing - many like it:

Bodybuilding is a stupid sport and should be banned. Fact. Not only can it be dangerous (wife hitting me with large and heavy cooking implement) it can result in points on your driving licence. Really. Our sport has a habit (or is it just me) of biting you on the ass. That sort of “Ohh yeah, the dog bites” information you would have liked before you lost your hand.
I think I remember why I wanted to do this stuff, I like many of you ‘old’ens’ blame Arnie. Arne begat the Magazines, Magazines Begat the Gym membership. Noboy told me it would hurt so much days AFTER the work out. I remember not being able to brush my teeth…not a bad thing! The arms grew, years past and then a guy said “Ever gonna work your legs - no?” LEGS?
On reflection my legs did look like those bendy straws. Again, nobody said how much legs training would hurt. Went to take a plop - was still there three days later. So aside from chronic pain and a little blood in your urine, the next thing is when you find out how much you gotta eat and how much the food & supplements costs…now have blood in my stools. Nobody told me. The smell - nobody told me. I like you, grew and grew. My clothes no longer would fit, and I would only ever wear vests. It has been so cold that birds have frozen in mid flight, the ocean became solid and I wore a vest. Yes, I even wore the ‘clown pants’. I looked an idot. Nobody told me.

So as to the natural progression of our sport. You have been working out for years and have some serious mass, been to a few shows and thought “I could do that”. You, like me think you know it all. True to form, like a big elastic band you are about to ‘pang’ into your own face, the question “Why didnt anyone tell me” is lurking like a fart in a crowded lift.
The diet for one. My God - the hardest and dumbest thing I have ever done. I am so hungry, moody, tierd. I now have a crisp P45 as my boss found me asleep. Ok so my contract states I should stay in control of the bus at all times, but he was fully insured (apologies to all the families). But the anger is the mistress of the tierd and both have a habit of ‘tag - team wrestleing’ you into a blind rage. The kind that has you panting like a rabid pitbull with a hot poker up its ass. The full on ‘snot bubble’ rage. So, to the next “why didnt anyone tell me”. The show is in 2 weeks, I am lean but for water, tanned and ready. Nothing else to go wrong. I am so constipated that i have not ‘dropped the kids in the pool’ for weeks so there is no chance of a on stage fear induced ‘man-egg’ incident. The same guy who told me to train my legs had some more good advice:
“Hey - Chewbacca, you gonna look like monkey boy on stage you hairy freak?”
Once again bodybuilding is about to bite my ass harder than it ever has before. Take into consideration I am Italian, I am so hairy I look like I am knitted. When I swim i look like the BBC Wildlife footage of that pathetic drowning sloth. “Why didnt anyone tell me how damned hard it is to shave your own body?”
I assumed, stupidly, that the last razor I had would be enough to get me as clean as baby. I can almost hear you all laughing! After a whole hour I have one hair free arm but for a large clumpy pube island I cant get to, one hair free front of leg and a naked chest looking like the result of a shark attack. I have one leg on the toilet one on the floor, bent double trying to shave my own ass. It doesnt get much worse than this. There is no dignity to this sport, tennis wont expect this of you. I bet Schumaker has never seen his own testicles at the angle I have now seen mine. One begs the question, now I know how ugly the ‘love spuds’ are, how on earth any woman could…lets leave that issue there. The razor is now blunt. It is near midnight, the shops are shut - I cant go to the gym tomorrow looking like half a Yetti.
So I am in the car, wearing a posing thong and shaving foam, en- route to my buddy for some razors. It is here I come to the amazing conclusion that all Nissan Sunny cars should be crushed. No I am not delerious. Boy racers are not a problem, they annoy you for a milli-second before disappearing in a cloud of tire smoke. Fine, I can live with that. Now old people + Nissan Sunny + diet = disaster. I live in the country, old people in Nissans have done more damage than any tornado. Old people travel between 18 and 22 miles an hour. Motorway, village - no differance. I was stuck behind this old couple for 19 minutes and whitnessed the worst display of driving I have ever seen. Both lanes, mounted curbs, people leaving pubs diving for cover and at best, random signals. I could take no more, I was honestly screaming in the car (as were the 40 or so other cars now behind me). Double clutch, engage 2nd an boot the car, over taking on a blind right hand bend. Finger out of the window “Bastaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard” I notice the old people wore clothes that were neither brown, green or blue. The colour can only be described as old. While transfixed at the knobbly nosed old fart in old colour, I failed to notice the Police car I have just ran off the road.
Minutes later the old couple over take me as the Police man is sticking his head through the window. The conversation was as follows:
“Have we been drinking…Jesus, Steve come look at this”
“No officer I have not been drinking”
“(Laughter) Get out of the vehicle please sir”
“C’mon - do I have to”
“Get out of the vehicle please sir”
(other police man) “what the hell you thinin boy”
“I can explain officer - I am sorry”
“You are about the sorriest thing I have seen all year - what the hell are you doing Boy”
At this point a group of girls on the way to a club wander past, and cant contain their laughter at the half hairy idiot in a thong. So in a last attempt to restore pride I stand bolt upright, maybe if they see I am muscular it will hide some of how stupid I look. It was at this point my bollock floped outside my trunks.
4 points on my licence and a £60 fine. Bodybuilding - why bother? I am due for my first show and the next disaster is sure to me the Dream Tan. I can bet that will be the next “Why didnt they tell me”. I will be the guy with the mahogany tan and bright white ass on stage! So if there is anything left - please say now!
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Postby Strix » Sat Sep 04, 2004 7:23 pm

LOL! Did you write that, musclem?

This is my favorite line: "I notice the old people wore clothes that were neither brown, green or blue. The colour can only be described as old." :D
"The hand that signed the paper felled a city;
Five sovereign fingers taxed the breath,
Doubled the globe of dead and halved a country;
These five kings did a king to death."
-Dylan Thomas
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Postby muscle-militia » Sat Sep 04, 2004 7:54 pm

Yep and its all true - was for a BB mag many years ago - I still shudder at the memory of my first sho LOL!
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Postby kettlebellnut » Sat Sep 04, 2004 8:20 pm

[quote]But the anger is the mistress of the tired


I dig that line; I've lived that line.
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Postby Frostfire » Sun Sep 05, 2004 7:30 am

:shock: Wow, that story is amazing. Great writing too, I couldn't stop reading! Hilarious and sort of disheartening all at the same time :lol: . I can't believe it's all true, are all your comps as "eventful"?
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Postby Mary » Sun Sep 05, 2004 7:34 am

:lol: I shouldn't laugh so hard after an ab work out. I hurt. Your fault! :lol:
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Postby Quizeen » Thu Sep 09, 2004 4:26 pm

It's a true testament to your devotion if you can still carry on after you've flashed a couple of cops and group of teenaged girls. :D
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