Gym people, personal training, and other boring shit.

     I spent the past year working at a commercial gym as a Personal Trainer. I had always assumed that I would enjoy working at a gym; I love fitness, and I’ve spent an insane amount of time (stupidly) working out prior, so what’s better than just living at a gym?  As the saying goes “don’t meet your heroes,“ you realize their faults to them like anyone else, and you’ve spent so long idolizing them that they, in reality, can’t compare to the construction of your mind. Nobody and nothing is perfect not to sound nihilistic even though I always am (I’m whiny). I realized in the same sense “the perfect job” also applies. My attitude changed of those around me and the fitness industry itself. People will always be ridiculous in their own ways, and I think every field in life has their percentages. If I could label a gym setting with one word, I believe douchebag would be succinctly eloquent. This is not to say I had never been any one of these people or some other form. I almost feel like I suddenly became self-aware of my environment. These are my observations…

     The characters in a commercial gym are interesting. While working out can be fun, it is mostly a vain hobby in a sense. Everyone who steps foot into a weight room wants to look like a Greek statue; I should say most people. Some others have health issues they are determined to work through, but I know in the back of their mind they have the same wish to a certain degree. This is akin to asking anyone on the street “who wants to be rich?” Being male all my life, as I had never determined I was any other gender (shout outs to 2017). There is this hidden peacock game or an imagined hierarchy ladder in the setting. Guys show up in stringers with the dumbest gym phrases like “here to train” “train or shut the fuck up” or input any other string of barely intelligible words, and you have a gym T-shirt. I am not a fashion Nazi; any fourth grader can beat my closet. I am one step above wearing sketchers that light up when I step. I can still, however, recognize when something looks inherently retarded. A couple months ago, a memory that will forever be with me. I was training one of my clients and a man wearing an unbuttoned flak-like jacket with no undershirt wearing a fisher’s man hat was glaring at me. I had done nothing to this man, but I assume that he felt his need to assert himself to me since he was in better shape than me.  I’m glaring back thinking “dude you can’t look like a c minus backstreet boy dancer and be mean. You can’t look like you just left the Chippendale academy and act like a suicide bomber.” The unfortunate case this is never isolated incidents in gyms, something about being twenty-something and deadlifting raises everyone’s testosterone.

     Women are far worst although in a commercial gym. Women dress like what I would imagine an Amish strip club would be. Yes, I understand this is purposely done for attention and if you were to argue against that, I would also believe you think the earth is flat. I don’t see how you can justify a girl wearing shorts where quite literally half her ass is showing. While my English teacher would find that sentence extremely verbose, I don’t know how else to strongly communicate what I see. I don’t mind it although, I would encourage this more if I could. At the same time, it’s been dividing my attention that should be spent on my clients. Being twenty-six and single doesn’t help, I feel like the dog from the movie “up.”  I go from trying to explain a Bulgarian split squat to being lost in my mind in almost seeing an entire breast. The number of times I’ve muttered “Jesus” I assume my clients think I’m a devoutly religious man.  In group fitness classes women tend to be more cliquish, they band together and bully one another. Complaints from those bullied are endless and happen more often than I would imagine for those in their mid-thirties. I wish I could say something better to these women than just don’t go to that particular class or stop caring but it’s funny how high school-like drama still goes on.

     Social media and gym life go hand to hand. Social media is braggadocios in nature and gym goers love to show off, it’s like marshmallows and hot chocolate. A perfect combination or storm. I usually witness some spectacular feat with someone recording off to the side. The other day I watched someone alternate a power-clean with a rollout using the barbell. A power clean isn’t an insanely technical movement, but it isn’t something (in my humble opinion) you would want to stack on top of something else. When it comes to programming and diets, most people just follow the wrong type of person. Every gym idiot does not think overtraining is real unless you are on Vitamin S (steroid) you are otherwise limited by the number of weeks you can train continuously. A lot of people don’t seem to understand after X number of weeks your body takes a much longer time to recover than your first week. This will continue until your body stops recovering altogether and your performance after stagnating hits a decline.  Everyone wants to look like someone the follow-on their Instagram, but everyone forgets those people usually have other factors that contribute to the success.

     I still love my job; I love interacting with people who want to make a change in their lives. It makes me reflect on my life and the goals that I keep dreaming about but never take action towards. It’s been fascinating to see people’s different levels of motivations and drive. It’s been enlightening to try to work with those who struggle even with sometimes the frustration I experience when I don’t get met half-way. Sometimes you do a great job with someone other times you do a piss poor attempt. I think it comes with the territory. You need the bad to contrast the good I guess.


Time Capsule

I haven’t posted in a long time, and it’s a good thing I haven’t. Rereading some of the things I’ve written has been sometimes funny and kind of embarrassing to look back on. That’s just life though, we always think we are above who we were some years ago. Which may or may not be true. Enter #NewYearNewMe, despite every year that passes I recognize another character flaw another thing that I should work on. While this is not novel for anyone who has lived quite sometime now, it’s still something that does not come up naturally in conversations and I’m not sure that will ever change. We will always be doomed to realize our short-comings perceived or real. Sometimes, I find this empowering in a sense as well as equally depressing.


This entire year was spent reflecting on the choices I’ve made over the years, the person I represented and the drawbacks of those decisions/personality traits of both. We all make poor choices, we communicate with each other negatively and sometimes as a result we are left with some regret or insight. What’s important is you get to choose your mode of travel, at some point everyone gets to a zone were they overly attack themselves. Instead of building on weaknesses they further exploit it and dig themselves further into a literary hole, or we try to become blissfully ignorant of the said issue either thinking it is not a problem or just actively oblivious. The most productive way and still not novel but yet the hardest route to walk is to evaluate yourself objectively and chase improvement.


Voluntary change is hard for more reasons than just one. Anyone that has ever tried a diet can speak from first hand. Temptations never become as apparent as the moment you shift tracks it’s as if you are moving against the current of the ocean. As the old proverb goes you are the company you keep and a step further you are what your company thinks of you. If you somehow have no friends or family in a close social circle, which can be believable in this day you still have the company of yourself. The brain,  that is used to behaving in certain ways to change itself is a herculean effort.

So, before you make your new year’s resolution realize that your goals may be grandiose they require a lot of energy and will. A fortitude of steel. Just remember don’t believe your own hype and don’t entrench yourself in the bullshit.



How To Manhood.

In recent years we have witness a growing emasculation of the male populace, whether that be due to it being acceptable to wear skinny jeans, write poems, or star as a thousands of year old vampire who falls for a high school student. In which everybody else except for Stephanie Meyer and her fans consider it kind of pedophile-ish.

Where's Chris Hansen for this?
Where’s Chris Hansen for this?

I’m not saying I was above any of it, I too had suffered from being less than male at times. I worn skinny jeans once, it was a dark period of my life and my therapist believes all my issues stem from it. The question is what can we do about it? Well I have an idea to take back our manhood with force with the elegance of a drunken sailor….obligatory fuck yeah.



Let us as men collectively set back society hundreds of years! Bring back dueling. Every man should carry at least one white glove for purposes of slapping someone into a challenge and challenge everything you can. Whether that’ll betting on sports team, who gets to call shot gun, or to who is buying the next round. We will eliminate the usage of guns and instead replace them with bamboo sticks for the two duelist, that way you can challenge your friends without ever feeling bad about murdering them.

jousting 2

Communities should constantly hold Jousting tournaments, bi-annually to decide who is the most alpha of the bunch. Fun for all as it can become once again a spectator sport, fun for the whole family! That way everyone can figure out whose dad is better, effectively eliminating the old school elementary argument you are bound to get into.

Raw Steak Consumption!

It should be mandatory for every man of all ages to teething infants that they are required to eat steak as raw as possible. Also, without the use of utensils while eating men should only grunt in a inaudible language much like our predecessors before us. This will enrich our primal selves in many ways that we cannot accomplish without being shamed by societies “standards.”

Tribal Paint!

Gangster as fuck
Gangster as fuck

Every man should be required to wear a form of tribal paint that denotes where the individual is from. This should serve as a great reminder that we are warriors bent on destruction at all times. We should also create big bonfires where we chant in a demonic possessed language such as french, and we do strange interpretive dances in front of rival tribal enemies.

Komodo Dragons!

Every man should be charged with hunting and killing a Komodo Dragon with their bare hands, and to bring back the head of the slain Komodo Dragon on a stick to place in front of their house as a lawn decoration. Why Komodo dragons? For one dragons is in the name so sentences like, “I just killed a dragon.” Can hold common place in everyday conversation, two they are pretty fucking terrifying so that alone is pretty manly to me.


so much soul
so much soul

Every man should grow out their hair to unreasonable lengths, facial hair and pubic hair too. We should not be required to shave for anyone even for a convenience of our own. We should maintain a homeless look as much as possible, and make every attempt to grow dirty dreadlocks the smeller the more man it is.

Death Metal!

Every man should be required to listen to death metal, and death metal only. Sorry Death Cab For Cutie fans, you’re going to have to replace your soft emotional songs with the hard guitar riffs of band names such as ‘Dying Fetus.’ Funny how you probably already guessed Dying Fetus was death metal due to their name, off that point any up and coming death metal band should come up with equally as fucked up names such as ‘Kill Grandma in the Back Yard, AfterBirth Yum Yum, and Lady Gaga.


Every man at the age of five should be left and required to survive desolate locations of your regional choice as a parent. Whether that would be in the Himalayan Mountain tops, vast deserts, or the Amazon Jungle only the most toughest of five year olds will survive a year out there and come back a stronger man, possibly a little fucked up in the head too.

All these suggestions and more will guarantee hard generations of men to come for years. Even Clint Eastwood might be proud.



Every year around this time stupid people are given a platform to speak on anti-vaccination. Every year I have to hear some one who is in my social circle speak on the horrors of vaccination, and its only purpose serves as a money making machine.

Funny how none of these people are medically qualified in anyway, not even at the lowest levels emergency medical responder who have no clinical medical training whose skill sets involve practically just CPR. It’s always some dude name Rick your next door neighbor spreading disinformation collectively making this hive mind of stupidity. You’re next door neighbor isn’t qualified for SHIT to speak on vaccinations. Yes, there is some sort of risk involved with vaccinations and the largest part of that is being allergic to the vaccination, which isn’t caused by the vaccine itself per se but an overreaction from your immune system. That is literally all what allergies are.

So lets talk about a really dumbed down version on how your immune system works, think of a bunch of roided bro’s traveling through your blood stream hyped the fuck up for its next fight. A flu shot is given which is a weaken or dead form of the virus itself, your immune system recognizes something foreign and calls all the troops to march forward and attack that shit.

Attack it does, your body destroys that virus with extreme prejudice like those police officers on Rodney King. This is where the benefits of vaccinations take place, after a fight with the foreign organism your system recognizes how to effectively combat the virus. So, next time the same virus wants to stroll around in town your body has reserves ready to combat that motherfucker to the grave.

Cool right? Here’s the other deal with your immune system, after some time your system will “forget” how to go about into attacking that virus. But, with everybody else vaccinated you develop a “herd immunity” since no one is carrying the virus anymore you effectively eliminated the chance for a severe outbreak.

The only way that works is if the majority of the population is vaccinated against the strand. So, by being the hard headed dumbass who is against vaccination you aren’t only creating a problem for yourself but potentially a problem to the entire society. Additionally, influenza (flu) mutates rather quickly which is why there is a need to vaccinate every year since new strands of the flu develop, your vaccinations from two years prior isn’t going to help much.

There is home remedies some people claim by, I can tell you 95% of it is bullshit. Just think about it, doctors/scientists have been working on this for hundreds of years if sucking a camels dick vaccinated you effectively we probably be all in line to blow a camel. I don’t understand the logic of going against careful proven testing to go off on a chance that your neighbor Rick who isn’t medically qualified is right over them.

So, next time you want to drawn up conclusions on your own on how this is part of a big conspiracy globally against all humans. Do yourself a favor a use google and read up a little bit on it, compare points on both sides and don’t limit yourself to your own personal bias also, ASK someone who actually studied this in detail they can provide you better information than the deniers.

It’s cool that you’re not taking in anything at face value but don’t go against the grain if you have nothing substantial to place your claim on.

Cheers, bitches.

I am Jack’s Amazing Cardio (Reasons Why You Should Run Today)

Since the dawn of the early humans, running had played an large part in hunting wild game. Due, to relatively recent advances of todays world unshapely human beings get to waddle into survival everyday. As in no human this year or anytime recent had to ever chase down a fleeting Big Mac to survive the next day of mundaneness.

Every year new inventions are made to make us more lazy and less effective hunting animals, every year more of our children suffer from obesity to well into adulthood. We are creatures who hold a special ability to run a very long distance at a consist pace, when afforded the opportunity to get out of our vehicular cages. In fact there is still groups of people that practices this technique of distance running by chasing wild game into a point of exhaustion and finishing the animal off with a spear.

How badass is this?

I, myself, still practice a form of this through courtship rituals. I race my friends occasionally and when I predictably win, I of course being the better hunter, the better fit to pass on my superior genes to future children win a chance at sleeping with their wives. Usually their wives don’t comply but thats neither here or there we both know in our hearts that I am better.

You’re probably thinking well thats a relief, I don’t see any other reason to run, and thats when I slap you with wisdom that you’ll only find from an asian on top of a mountain with a long flowing greying beard.

He also enjoys writing horoscopes, and fortune cookies from Panda Express.
He also enjoys writing horoscopes, and fortune cookies from Panda Express.


When pulling out goes wrong.
When pulling out goes wrong.

Some of my friends enjoy camping, some of those friends I know are pretty stupid and the rest of them I’m highly suspicious of being stupid. Being out in the wilderness isn’t fun, we developed homes, air conditioning, and washing machines for a reason. While individuals feel more in touch with nature and feel like they can feel the positive vibes of the earth inseminating them, giving birth of more hippy garbage. I can attest as a man who spent many weeks away from civilization sleeping on the cold ground for weeks at a time without a sleeping bag, being “one” with the various insects, animals, diseases that you come in contact with is Mother Nature is not your friend. Mother Nature hates you, your stupid family, and everything you stand for. Mother Nature will actively try to find new devious ways to murder you as you constantly battle the elements.

But if the day comes when I finally have friends and they invite me out to camping, sure I’ll take them up on it. I will enjoy my time with those liked individuals much like normal people do, I will first although make sure I am the fastest runner in that group of individuals.

Why you ask? Simple, Grizzly Bears.


While it is impossible to out run a Grizzly bear unless you have some means of faster travel such as a car. You don’t have to worry about that, what you do have to worry although is you out run all your friends. Animals normally attack the weakest link or in this case the slowest individual and as long as you’re not last you’re first in life. So, while your friend is violently getting mauled and being eaten alive you can thank me while giving high fives to the rest of the surviving party.

Police Officers!

Obviously isn't much of a runner.
Obviously isn’t much of a runner.

If you are ever in the mood of participating in any sort of various illegal activities such as drinking underage, jay-walking, and littering. Running may be the solution for you! You can scream obscenities, and taunt in a hilarious game of catch & chase. Let’s be honest here most officers are in less than stellar condition, this sort of behavior is ideal in a relatively low crime rate city with lackadaisical officers. WARNING DO NOT ATTEMPT IF THE FOLLOWING IS MET: YOU’RE A MINORITY, HIGH CRIME CITY, THE COP IN QUESTION LOOKS LIKE HE EATS ROIDS FOR BREAKFAST You might catch several bullets to your back, face, or get beaten to the next year.

Running Shoes! pDSP1-14954622p275w

Admit it you’ve been a loser all your life, your mother constantly looks at you asking the doctor if its too late to have an abortion, your father wished he would of just got head that night. It’s too late though for any of that now, stop looking back on the past you tell them as they drop you off that fire station for an orphanage to claim you. You don’t have much going for you is what they tell you at the orphanage, they are considering putting you down.

But wait!

You see those slick murdered out Merrill’s in the display case of that hipster running store you hear so much about, you point them out to the cashier and he responses with “Good choice BRoOoO.”

You take them out for a spin everyone is looking at you, yes YOU. You feel goddamn sexy, and as you should, you run into no other than Rihanna who is also wearing a Merril’s running shoe.


She looks at you longingly

You play it cool

“Nice shoes” She says.

You give her a wink, she blushes and hands off a piece of paper with her number on it.

You give it a call, its her.

You go to her place.

Forward 20 years later Rihanna still looking flawless, you haven’t had any children so life is perfect. You’re rich as fuck, having sex with a angel everyday, you die a happy man.

You’re welcome.



You have millions of friends all across the globe, all wanting to be you, all wanting to be on you. You win the Nobel Peace prize twice in a row, Time magazine has made you person of the year. They compliment you everyday on your great cardio, and you look down on them smugly and if one of them gets too in shape? Fuck them you don’t need them, you have others to replace those assholes.

In conclusion your life will probably improve 3000% with adding a running regiment to your otherwise sedentary lifestyle, in a year from now some of you will be thinking of me wondering where I went. I don’t want the lime-light I’m merely here to help people like yourself and others who are struggling day to day, my life is already awesome enough.


Why Chipotle’s Guacamole is so fucking expensive.

“Seven dollars and eighty five cents is your total sir.” The young woman said, positioned behind the cash register.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I had guacamole with that.” I said reluctantly, glancing up and making eye contact with the young woman…a bead of sweat drops off my brow.

“Oh..” She says while nervously pressing buttons on the cash register.

“Your total…your total, oh wow your total is…three thousand dollars and eight five cents sir.” The young woman stammers nearly in tears.

The restaurant went quiet nothing was heard but a babies muffled cries as the mother tries to comfort the child.

“Three thousand dollars?” I asked in astonishment…

“…and eighty five cents, sir.” The young woman nervously replied.

“Can I speak to your manager? This is ridiculous.” I said suppressing my growing anger.

“Yes, sir one second.” The young woman said.

“FELICIA! FELICIA!” yelled the young woman behind her.


“We need you up front…its about the guacamole again.”

“Oh fuck me.”

From the back of the kitchen came a gargantuan woman who looked about to be a pick up truck size wide and about five feet tall, she waddled up to the front breathing heavily sweating profusely as she made her way up, double chin jiggling in cadence to her footsteps.

“What the fuck do YOU want.” She pointed at me, spit flying everywhere.

Wiping the spit from my face I began to speak.

“Ma’am I was just trying to find out why I’m being charged three thousand dollars for this burrito.”

“Because you got guacamole, you dumb fuck.” Felicia responded.

“I still think three thousand dollars is ludicrous to be charge for…avocados isn’t gol…”

“Regular avocados that is what you mean, these avocados… this guacamole isn’t for mere mortals to the likes of you.” Felicia said cutting me off.

“Then what the fuck makes them so expensive?” I said slamming my hands on the counter. Gasps were heard everywhere in the room, the once crying baby stopped and appeared to be listening in as well.

The fat woman stood and stared around the room with menacing eyes.

The man next to me put his hand on my shoulder and said “Hey man, its okay we could all like pitch in.” Slow reassuring nods throughout the restaurant were made.

“No!” I shouted.

“I’m tired of getting fucked by this organization! You owe us an explanation lady!” I said pointing my figure back to Felicia.

“Fine.” Felicia said.

Felicia turns to the young cashier.

“Dim the lights.”

“It’s time you all know the truth.” Felicia said turning into the growing crowd.

I looked around in astonishment all races, all creeds, all colors, men, women alike, fire fighters, doctors, and policemen all fell silent to listen to the story.

Felicia leaned forward bracing her hands on the counter…trembling mouthing out words with no sound and then finally.

“Many, many, good people died for our avocados.” Felicia said holding back tears.

“I will never get to hold my husband again.” Felicia said finally breaking.

The young cashier moves to comfort her.

Drying the tears from her eyes using her stretched out shirt she begins to speak.

“We train tough men for this mission, all of them mercenaries usually former Special Forces soldiers from the United States Army. Sometimes we pull from other sources but those guys never make it, usually most of them don’t anyway.” Felicia said softly.

“Jesus, how much are you paying these guys?” I asked.

“Depends on their past experience but usually Fifty five thousand to sixty thousand dollars per trip. It’s good money sure… but the risk they take is extraordinary.” Felicia said.

“Most of these guys are harden men but they never come back the same, if at all. The location of our avocados is in San Pedro Sula, Honduras the most dangerous city in the world. If our men make it past of the hordes of gangs willing to kill Americans on sight, they still have to retrieve the avocados in a scared location that I cannot disclosed for fear of my life.” Felicia said slowly.

“It’s that serious?” I asked confusingly.

“I’m afraid so, Chipotle has a standing hit on any employee that discloses this information. This goes beyond to the highest levels of government. I don’t know where the trail ends, but it doesn’t matter anyway even if people did know the location. There still resides that mon….monster.” Felicia said trembling.

“What is it?” I asked inquisitively.


Everybody in the restaurant seemed to lean in closer.

“It’s…it’s Honey Boo Boo’s mother.” Felicia said fighting back the tears.

“She just doesn’t stop eating, she’s impervious to bullets, bombs, and chemical warfare. Practically everything we throw at her. When the men get there, they don’t even have a slight chance.” Felicia said sobbing loudly.

“Why…why do you do this?” I ask shocked.

“Here at Chipotle we are required to only prepare our food with the freshest of ingredients. Thats the Chipotle initiative to best serve the customer to his or hers wants or needs.” Felicia said sobbingly

“Well…alright then.” I said extending out my debit card in one hand.

“Thank you come back soon.” Felicia said sobbing even louder.

May we never forget those who gave their lives in honor for this guacamole that smears my burrito tonight. Each bite I took was a painful reminder of those lost to the vicious Honey Boo Boo’s, each bite I cried a little bit more realizing how selfless those men were. If only there were more Americans like them, maybe this would be a better nation…hell maybe a better world.

But I do know one thing.

That was the best damn burrito I ever had in my life.

Great Gifts for shitty children!

It’s six am on christmas eve, you had forgotten you had kids up until this point. They had been barely keeping themselves alive with trashed scrapes of ramen noodles and plastic cups with left over beer from the massive kegger you had last night. You think to yourself how did I become such a cool parent? I’m never in my child’s lives. Then you realize you fucked up, you didn’t buy them any gifts for christmas.

While the only hope the children have of you are some kick ass gifts you think to yourself, man I don’t know these people at all. In fact you even start to question if these are your children since they are so ugly looking and gross. No worries they probably are, all children are gross and ugly looking despite how those commercials depict them.

Now what? You immediately log in your computer being careful to exit out of that midget porn you were watching last night. You get on wordpress and search hipsters…hipsters….hipsters on wheels! You remember suddenly that deviously handsome young man with biceps the size of the Sears Towers. “He must have advice for me somewhere” you think to yourself, yes…yes I do wanderer welcome to my blog. Here’s some good gift ideas for your shitty children.

A Pellet Gun!


Teach your children the most awesomest freedom of America, GUNS. Start them off slow with a pellet gun and work your way up to M107 Barrett .50 Sniper Rifle in one day. Use your neighbors pets & children as target practice, believe me no one cares for them. On the flip side if you don’t like your kids leave them alone in the park for awhile, maybe an hour at tops before an officer of the law to shoots your children dead!

A Funny T-Shirt!


This method will only work if you have two mistakes instead of just one. Have both mistakes wear this T-shirt and stand face to face to each other silently looking into each others eyes until they get it. Once they both realized they aren’t loved predictably they’ll cry since children are weak willed and are easily agitated, thats when you let them know they can be dropped off at a fire department at anytime no questions asked!

A Razor Blade!


Perfect gift for your emotional teenager who can’t seem to get it right, although this can be an acceptable gift for all ages. You’re going to want an individual that tumblrs so they can make sixteen thousands posts and upload a couple songs of spill canvas before they do the deed.
Nothing says I hate you and kill yourself better than a gifted razor blade!

A Hallmark Card!

Just a simple hallmark card don’t leave any money or any extra writing to it, leave it bare minimum ideally make sure you use the wrong gender for you children..i.e. daughter gets a “great son” gift card and your son gets “thanks for being a faggot” gift card. Good gifting since it teaches them right away in a slow matter the harsh realites in life, where nobody is seriously going to think of them that much when choosing a gift.


A great gift if they are stupid and still believe in Santa Clause, but an even better gift if they don’t. Imagine the face your young teenager will make looking at you questioning if he is experiencing reality, there you are sitting high and smug with your fresh pot of vodka you warmed up this morning. “Sorry son, looks like you’ve been a piece of shit this year as well!”

In conclusion these gifts above are cheap, relatively easy to obtain, and your children will love you for them. If you really don’t want to go out of your way to buy gifts this year, don’t. There is always next year and what does it matter, they’re probably sending you to nursing home anyway. Got to win when you can is what my father used to always say when he gave me these gifts, and did I become a better man? No. But thats besides the point.