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2018-04-24T10:55:29.876Z
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 I do not understand how someone could not like this shit."Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" is a trite statement usually made by boring, smug, unoriginal motherfuckers why are attempting to deflect criticism for their weird choice in car/partner/whatever, but it's a statement that's endured since at least the third century BC for a reason- it's true.  My undying love for prolapse porn is likely not going to be shared by a large amount of the populace, but that's fine- you like what you like and I'll drool over a chick's intestines hanging out of her asshole.  Oddly, you won't find the chicks on Tumblr who are rocking pink socks to run through the streets screeching at the top of their lungs about how everyone should stare at their intestines and love the look.  They know its an acquired taste, so fuck the haters.  There are plenty of guys and girls like me ready to faceplant into their distended assholes.There is a very vocal, highly...
[This is something I wrote for original content for my ebook Issuance of Insanity 2, but somehow the article I wrote to post today didn't save last night for some unknown reason, so I'm dropping this one to give you guys something to read until I get "Your Fat Is Unequivocally Your Fault #6" completely rewritten.  To say it's ranty is to say Michael Jackson's diddling of Corey Feldman seems to have had a bit of a lasting effect, and it's jammed with more porn than I've ever put in a blog, because pouring bleach in your eyes is a bad idea.]We all probably wish we looked like we were photoshopped, but for most of us, that's merely a distant and ephemeral dream. Not so, however, for the biggest, baddest, freakiest motherfucker of whom you’ve never heard- Jeff King. Many reasons for this have been bandied about for why he abandoned bodybuilding, but King was, in his prime, considered to be an uncrowned Mr. Olympia even as anamateur. He had quads as big and detailed as Tom Platz with an upper body to match, and the...
Pretty dapper for a badass.There have been a great many badass, blow-up-your-sorry-ass-with-a-fireball wizards throughout the ages, from the limp-wristed, Harry Potter-esque Merlin to psychotic Russian demagogue Rasputin to the Antichrist Aleister Crowley.  None of them, however, possessed a combination of characteristics so diverse that they were essentially a combination of Bruce Lee, David Blaine, Evel Kneivel, lunatic carny extraordinaire Frank "Cannonball" Richards, and the entire cast of Mythbusters.  That bizarre distinction is the sole mantle of the greatest escape artist and all-around baddest motherfucker in history, Harry Houdini.Houdini don't play no shit, you feel me? Houdini never been about that, never ever been about playin' no shit.I realize that when one thinks of wizards and magicians, they're thinking of some slack-jawed bitch who would get his ass kicked by a cardboard cutout of a Warhammer dwarf.  Clerics fall into the same category in my book- if there's no melee weapon employed, they can get fucked, and that twig Harry Potter waves about like he's fucking Lord of the Dance wouldn't even make a...
This is the majority of my hot sauce collection at present, save for what I have in the fridge. Before you ask, I've not yet opened Shit Your Bed or Jason's Own.I've covered the topic in passing in the past, but I still don't believe that my appreciation for, and subsequent belief that you should share that love for, pungent foods.  I realize that most of you think pungent is a worst reserved for shit that stinks, but according to the dictionary and science, pungent refers to anything you would traditionally think of as "spicy."  That includes chili peppers, ginger, horseradish, mustard seeds, wasabi, black pepper, Indian long pepper, szechwan pepper, and a variety of other delicious shit, and in addition to making your food delicious, pungent foods have a crazy array of health benefits ranging from improving the effectiveness of other chemicals you ingest to increased metabolism to the wholesale Vlad the Impaler-style slaughter of cancer, and they serve to separate the pussies from everyone else, because if you can't handle spiciness, you probably can't handle anything cool.  The same type of people who think Eddie Murphy Raw is "too vulgar" and vastly prefer the comedic stylings of Jeff Dunham and other sundry clean comedians, people who...
Jules prior to training and now (before you ask, he's walking around at about 195 these days)Juls is a 26 year old chiropractic student who makes his living by working as a Krav Maga instructor. After studying law and becoming disgusted with both the legal system and his fellow practitioners, he started to read up on treatment methods for athletes and decided to pursue a bachelor’s and then a master’s degree in the art of breaking someone’s spine.Besides kicking people in the nuts for a living, he played in 2 death metal bands, one called And I Saw The Desolation (RIP), and Impact36, which he joined in November and replaced the old singer, who had shit vocals and is also a vegetarian.He’s also an avid Warhammer 40k enthusiast, painting miniatures and annoying people at the Games Workshop with his presence.I became friends with him over the last year while coaching him in preparation for his first meet, in which he absolutely destroyed his opposition and nearly posted an elite total.
As I continually get asked what I listen to while training, and for recommendations for new bands, I thought I'd stop what I was writing long enough to give you a bit of an idea of what's going on musically in my life these days.  Basically, my musical interests in general don't stray far from hardcore/deathcore/slam beatdown- I basically only add grime like Scrufizzer and some dubstep to the mix otherwise.  I spend altogether too much time searching for new music, and waaaaay too much time on this article, so recognize when I say Stone Cold Stunner will knock your fucking socks off.Since I pretty much get constant requests for new music recommendation and often get asked what is in my playlist, here we go.  I'm just giving you the band names because giving you the individual songs would be ridiculously long and overly arduous and there just seems to be little point to it.  I did link songs and albums for select artists, but I spent waaaaay more time on this than anticipated and didn't have extra time to link more shit.  So what we've got here a rotating bunch of bands including, but not limited to:
Having grown up in the hardcore scene of the 1990s, the DIY ethic was as deeply instilled in me as horse cock in a My Little Pony fan during a party in Mexico.  For those of you who think DIY started with HGTV and home improvement shows, it actually arose out of the punk scene and then got co-opted by midwestern housewives.  Instead of mousy, over-eager women, the DIY culture was initially nothing but smelly fuckers who used that shitpile crystal deoderentno one liked at shows used to sell terrible vegan baked goods and print zines giving info about the punk (and later the hardcore) scene.  Because those genres of music weren't popularly accepted, there was no other way to get info on the scene, so these little do-it-yourself magazines provided us with info on upcoming shows, reviews about albums we probably hadn't heard (with a horrifying emphasis on krishnacore in the zines I generally read), and a whole spate of political commentary so left leaning that even Bernie Sanders would have called the writers fucking communists.They might like...
Even a broken clock is right twice a day, but no matter what time that clock says, Jeff Dunham is never fucking funny.  Jeff Dunham's effect on a comedy show is very much like an ebola outbreak's effect on Central Africa tourism- you only head toward it if your goal is to stamp out the infection and cart away dead bodies.In the past I would publish articles in a series called "Ask The Asshole" but as the questions began to resemble each other more and more, and my answers became basically rote repetitions of one another, I abandoned the series.  You might think that I would enjoy posting my hilarious repartee with people who should never publicly utter these questions, but frankly I've grown so weary of answering stupid questions that most days I've got less funny in me than a dialogue between Howie Mandel and Jeff Foxworthy scripted by that hideously uncomedic fucktard with the puppets.  Until now, that is, because if I can't laugh in the face of a coming apocalypse fueled by gun-toting, unfuckable autists, idiotic partisan politics, hyper-emotional responses to trivial events, and the fact that "e-sports" are likely going to be in the next Winter Olympics, I might as well...
Andrea Munzer took so much gear that just looking at a pic of him means you're no longer natty.The first official episode of Chaos and Pain's Hatecast is up on Youtube and ready for your listening pleasure.  Still working on the Stitcher and iTunes uploads, but they're coming soon.  In this episode we talk about my gear use, PCT, Andreas Munzer's ridiculous stack (here's an interview with Nasser El Sonbaty about Munzer that's worth a read), why you're not actually going to shit out your liver on Superdrol, and much more.Check out the podcast here.
Due to my obvious ideological differences with Paul Carter, we won't be doing Chaos and Bang anymore.  What we will be doing is the Hatecast, which will feature myself, Brice Allen, and a rotating cast of guests (which tentatively includes Peter Baker of TNation / www.peterdbaker.com / BioLayne, a British wrestler on the indie circuit who will be guesting in NXT named Danny Burch (I'll just use his wrestling name so we don't break kayfabe, I guess), and an internet steroid guru who runs #TeamFakeGear for BAB Supplements named Ed Dorrence.  We'll be covering topics like steroids (I'll finally discuss them), the conjugate method, programming, body armor built from car tires, and whatever else happens to come up.Here's a pilot we recorded just to test out the production software.  I was working on a Chromebook because my laptop took a shit on me earlier in the day, so the high-quality mic I'd bought couldn't be employed.  This weekend we will have the first official episode, hopefully with mics and an intro (to be recorded by the new singer of Germany's Impact36, who just just broke a bunch of records in Germany and posted a 1504 total raw at 181 after only 9 months of heavy strength training) and all of that happy horseshit... or it'll be our second pilot because we intend to make this shit as professional as humanly possible.  In any event, we'll be...
"We don't want to be popular.  We want to be infamous.  I wake up in the morning and say, "How could I be more despicable?"-Jon BassoDoing it right, guys.  We're doing it right.  Nofappers, SUCK MY MOTHERFUCKIN' DICK.Having received a shitload of requests to detail my current training routine and the evolution of my methodology, I thought it was high time to drop an update on what I'm doing.  I'll reassert that I generally detest detailing my own training, as most of what I do is provide the information I've used to arrive at my own training methods.  I like to lead a drunk to a vodka factory rather than...
How many people do you think you've met with measurements even close to 6’ 1½ ", 300-330 lbs, 20" neck, 19¼" arms, 52½” chest, and a 19" calf?  I'll tell you how many- maybe one.  Offhand, the only person of whom I can think who had these cold measurements was legendary strongman, Olympic weightlifter, strongman, and stand-in for Godzilla otherwise known as Mark Henry.   Having met him a couple of times, I can tell you that shaking hands with Mark Henry is like shaking hands with a Transformer wearing a double-size Predator mask and boasting hands so big they make a catcher's mitt look like a small child's mitten.  You know, he is the sort of man who has the physical presence of a literal mountain- the dude left more of an impression on me than the Grand Canyon had a few years earlier.  So, the fact that Mac Batchelor was similarly sized to our version of a modern day Colossus in an era that food rationing was in effect is nearly unbelievably,...
In this blog, I detailed the myriad marvelous means by which one can improve their mental and physical strength with the grand poohbah of upper body lifts- the Behind The Neck Push Press.  Well, fuckers, I've got another exercise for you to try, and it's another one for the fucking record books.Behold the awesome might of the Partial Overhead Squat.The form on these will be a bit tricky when you first start.  As you can see in the video, I usually have difficulty finding my mark right out the gate.  The setup, however, generally goes like this- line up the way you would for a squat, making sure that your legs are evenly spaced, slightly wider than shoulder width after you duck under it.  Then, straighten your arms as you squat deeper, locking them out fully, and stand up, pushing your head forward as you do so.  Like most lifts, this isn't fucking brain surgery, and chance of injury is basically nil due to the use of the rack.Once you find your groove, however, this movement gets fun, and interesting,...
 It seems of late that people have gotten extremely busy complicating something that is extremely simple- getting big and strong.  Idiots clad in day-glo spandex and in all manner of wraps, belts, and shoes populate every squat rack across the land, endlessly yammering on about their newest highly vaunted cookie-cutter online program, talking everyone's fucking ear off about the intricacies of their diets and generally doing nothing useful whatsoever.  Resigned to mediocrity or sub-mediocrity, these vapid consumerists consider themselves an essential part of a community that they clearly misunderstand, because strength training is not about how much money you spend- it's about how much heart, balls, hate, aggression, and self-motivation you apply in direct opposition to gravity and mass.  It's not about allowing people you don't know to dominate your bank account, because this community isn't filled with sexy-ass Findommes (Finanacial Dominatrixes) talking shit to pussies to separate them from their money.  Well, upon reflection I suppose it is, though the Findommes in strength sports are generally fat, hairy guys running gear companies that aren't particularly aesthetically appealing.  In any event, it doesn't have to be that way- it can and is much, much simpler than a cursory examination of the...
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. 
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 reason
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. 
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.  The asceticism of eating bland, unfulfilling meals with perfect macros and the superiority with 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.Just say no to asceticism.If...
[Check out Part 1 in this series here, and if you've already read it, give it another look in the Pehlwan section, as I found more detailed information on The Great Gama's training methods and lunatic, Saxon-style diet.]If there's anything humans love more than inflicting grievous injury on one another, it's watching other people inflict grievous injury on one another.Clearly, fighting techniques and training methods have some ancient roots, and in spite of their age, the techniques for building strength and endurance for combat have remained relatively standard throughout time.    Of course, every style seems to bring with it a twist of the tried and true, and it is in these twists that one find the Willy Wonka-esque Golden Ticket to preparing to turn one's fellow man into a pile of bubbling hamburger on the bar floor, parking lot, mat, or battlefield.  Lest you think that following in the training paths of fighters in styles you dislike, mock, revile, or simply dismiss out of hand, think again- there is something to be drawn from the experiences of any successful participant in sports requiring aggression, strength, and endurance in every other sport requiring the same.Frankly, you're probably wasting your time...
A Short Aside for Those Who Think They Cannot CookBefore we get started on another food blog, I figure it bears mentioning that I'm aware that some of you refuse to accept the fact that cooking is in your DNA.  Literally. Homo Erectus began cooking food at least a million goddamned years ago.  So, before you begin your bullshit, pre-baked, lazy nonsense about how you cannot cook, acknowledge the fact that IT'S REALLY NOT ROCKET SURGERY.  I realize, however, that trying new things is daunting, and there is a high cost to fucking up expensive recipes.  Frankly, there's a high cost to simply filling a spice cabinet.  There's a higher cost to you, however, if you simply eat bland, awful crap all the time, because  "in fact 95 percent of the body's serotonin is found in the bowels."Yeah, eating food that tastes good is more important for your mood than anything else, and if your mood sucks, so will your sleep, training, and life in general.