Yo, you da best girlfried ever dawg, I love you with all I got, and I'd give all my welfare checks and my pimpin rims just to make you happy. You really do mean the world to me, I love you so much, you're my number one gangsta, and you deserve all the bling in da ghetto babe. I love you! :D

So that's what I typed in a sticky note on my girlfriend's computer a few weeks ago. Before you get all steamed, yeah I know it's kinda maybe a little bit racist, but I was trolling, we do stuff like that to each other all the time, it's just one of our inside jokes, and I don't know many black people who talk like that.

Anyway, she was at college one day and she left her laptop screen up, and one of her black guy friends (no jokes please) asked if her boyfriend was black. No, I'm not bsing, I'm dead serious. She was like, "huh"? And he pointed at her computer and referred to the sticky note. She said no, I was white, and he asked if she was sure. She told him yes. He kept prodding and asking if she was "dating a brother" and all sorts of questions, and he refused to believe I was white. He even said I typed like a black guy and he thought I was referring to "fried chicken" when I said "girlfried", which was actually a typo when I wrote it but I left it because it was funny. She finally proved I was white by showing him a picture and told him I was a bodybuilder, and he was like, "a white bodybuilder? Really?" I make an impact everywhere I don't go.

I know that's not a very realistic love letter for a black man, the grammar and dialogue would differ a tiddly bit and there was nothing about basketball or MJ...I'm kidding. Honestly, I have a lot of respect for black people, they're people too, there's nothing different about them except their skin color and the way they act, but there are a handful of them that give the rest of them a bad name, and that goes for every nationality.

On a side note, I still don't have a job, or a car, and I still live at home (I'm not leading up to a racist joke). I'm 20 years old, and I found an old fortune cookie slip the other day that read "Your business will assume vast proportions." This gave me a little hope, as the only three business ideas I have in mind are: personal trainer (first choice), insurance agent (meh, it makes good money but it's boring), and black man greeting card writer. Don't hate.

Also, Stephen Colbert for president.

That is all.

Thanks everyone for the birthday wishes. :) I'll get back to you all tomorrow on comments, I'm on the slowest laptop ever, at least by today's standards. It literally took me twenty minutes just to get to and log in to Facebook a few days ago. Would have posted the pictures yesterday but nothing ever works out as according to plan for me, ever. Anyway, yeah, here's me currently (yesterday), the only good picture I could get on my -1 megapixel phone, but it gives you a general idea, haha.

^ 17" arms, 1" away from my dream goal. One more year or so.

(There would be shirtless pictures but I slacked for a few months, due to family stuff and stress, so I literaly worked out once a week with a buddy so my abs don't look so chisled right now, but the 8-pack is still lurking under there somewhere, give me about three weeks straight in the gym and it'll be better than ever, starting two weeks from now).

A good back picture from back in June. My back is my best genetic feature, so yeah. I think it looks pretty wicked, but I've never had it completely ripped at this size, I was either small with low bodyfat or heavily muscled with higher bodyfat, but you can see some straitions on the middle there, can't wait to bring those out a little better. :D It's coming along, I'll post some leg/calf/chest/back/ab/arm pictures in a few days, my legs have shrunk a lot (they were 24 1/2" around) but it all comes back quick, and I know a few tricks, so I'll be at 205lbs (180-ish now) by the year's end.

What you want for Christmas?!

So, the past few months have been a mishmash of this, that and the other, with a little bit of wtf thrown in. I'll start with July.

I lifted weights at home for two years (off and on, I think the longest I ever worked out at home without having to take a break that lasted at least a fortnight was maaaybe four months). So it was very off and on for me. But yeah, I stopped working out at home in the first week in July, went to the beach for a week with my girlfriend and her family and uncle and aunt and cousins and grandma, and I'm still surprised my parents let me go with them. And no, there was no "private time" while there.

In August, I was supposed to get a job washing windows, making around $11/hour. That didn't work out, I had to tell the guy I'd call him around mid-October and see if there was an opening then because I had no vehicle to drive the 45+ miles there errday, not to mention no gas money (I wouldn't have called him in the first place if I had known my parents wouldn't let me borrow their vehicle yet). I was hoping by mid October I would have come up with the money to fix my parents' van and some extra for gas, selling evil-hearted unicorns on the black market, but black people don't seem to want to pay so much for evil-hearted unicorns these days (only kidding). But really, I got this figgered out, I'll be doing some gopher work on a construction site starting soon hopefully, make monies, fix van, use the rest for gas, and get that job washing windows, get a car, get in the gym, become an insurance agent and a personal trainer, etc. Called about the job August 1st.

August 2nd, I was using one of these...



to drive one of these into the ground...

and pretty much, somehow, the first thing (t-post hand driver, which weights about 20lbs) bounces off the top of the t-post (above) and comes back and skims the top of my noggin. I kinda blacked out for a second or two, fell down, sat there, looked at my little brother on the fourwheeler and said "IS MY HEAD BLEEDING?!" And about the time he went to answer me (he was kinda shocked), blood was dripping on my hands. It was freaky, I thought I was dreaming. So I get on the fourwheeler and he hauls it to the garage (where dad was) and I get off the fourwheeler and immediately say "the t-post driver bounced off the top of the t-post and hit me on top of the head".  The first thing he says to me - I swear to God - "does it hurt?" So I just shove my bloody hand on top of my head and rub it around, it's covered in blood now, and say "yeah, kinda!" I wish I had taken pictures before I cleaned up, my face was COVERED in blood, it looked like I had gotten in a fight and barely won. That was my third concussion. I wore a motorcycle helmet next time I drove a t-post.

September: Meh.

October so far has been ugh ew gross nasty I'm going back to bed. But, mom ran across that construction job, me and my little brother have been helping a buddy with some tree work for some good money (NO JOKES!) and stuff is finally turning around a little. I'll be 20 in 8 days. Word. Also, I've been working out two-three times a month with a buddy, who is jacked to high heaven. That picture from my last post? I was around 195 (around 9% bodyfat), the biggest I've ever been, since I'm not working out at home anymore I've lost some muscle, so I'm down to 178-ish. My buddy is the same height, we have pretty much the same strength on literally everything, but he's 250 (same height) and around 11% bodyfat. His calves are bigger than my neck, and bigger than Ah-nold's were in his prime, but he never works them, they've always been that way. He's extremely genetically gifted mass-wise, and he's never done steroids or anything like that, ever. He literally has no idea what he's doing in the gym until we work out together and I show him, he can't even do any of it without me there. Sucky genetics for the sads. Anybody want any help with bodybuilding, I know more than your average personal trainer, so send me a message or add me on FB and we can chat about yo problems.

Now it's picture timeee for everyone who couldn't stand to read that much, yay!

This is one of my 70+ chickens (I lost count) and there is no caption. Make your own!