Is that a piece of chewy in your pocket or…

What the fuck is going on? I woke up this morning and slipped into my favorite jeans to find that there’s a piece of chewy stuck in my pocket. After spending the best part of a minute 4 hours picking the fucker out, I started thinking. Note: the only thing going through my head while I was picking out the chewy was how ridiculously good I would look in my jeans.

So, how’d the chewy get there? There’s no way anyone else would have been wearing my jeans (Baggy/ Aladdin pants are so 1992). Actually, you don’t know these days; some onelove fag could have broken into my house and stolen my pants for the night because the old fashion we’d all rather forget is cool now. That might explain the chewy too. The kid would have been chewing his face off at a funboy club and his boyfriend would have slipped his chewy into his pocket while he suc- Bad thought!

And there’s no way I would have put the chewy in my pocket. Firstly, when you look as good as I do you don’t need chewy to impress the ladies. Who gives a fuck about bad breath when you have arms like fucking freight trains? Note to my smaller readers: don’t leave your chewy in your pockets; hide it under one of your ribs or something.

Secondly, why the fuck would I put something in my mouth that a) doesn’t get me big, b) doesn’t contain protein and c) doesn’t fulfill my dream of changing the earth’s gravitational pull so that I can go back in time to 1955 to save the Doc from being shot by plutonium terrorists in the future?

Thirdly, there wouldn’t have been enough room in my pockets for a piece of chewy. My pockets would have been filled with 100s of bits of paper with girls’ phone numbers on them.

My pants were definitely stolen. I’m throwing them out only if there are spunk stains.

Oh, and here’s photo evidence:

I only posted this photo to show off my ripped mid-section. The tattoo and dope photography skills are simply a bonus.

Raise them ears.

No shit, I'm going deaf. I can't walk down the street without being tooted/honked/beeped/whatever by every fucking car that goes past. And it's not just because I've got such an awesome physique that warrants attention. It's just as much because my shoulders hang 2 metres off the footpath over the road. You know, if ears weren't cartilage, I'd work them out to be fucking huge.



Blowing up this balloon is a testament to this guy's ear strength:

Yeah, this guy has got strong ears, but if they're not big, what's the fucking point?

Attn: Green-minded bodybuilders.

This is going to be the first of many tips on how you, my bodybuilding friend, can do you part for the environment.

Tip 1: To save water, try and black out your bathroom mirror. That way when you’re brushing your teeth you won’t be distracted by your magnificent reflection for hours while the taps running. Instead, the tap will only run for a couple of minutes.

If you don't see me then this will be the best thing you'll see on tuesday.

Hey big guys,

This tuesday will be a really good night to take your lady friend for a drive and get your willy sucked. If you don't have a lady friend then just hang your arm out the window and wait for one, two or 15 to latch on.

And for all you smaller guys, take your sorry arse up to the hills and watch the total lunar eclipse.

Humongous regards,
Danny.

http://www.theage.com.au/news/national/earth-to-put-the-moon-in-the-shade/2007/08/26/1188066946407.html

It takes a bigger man to walk away...

because the smaller guy just got his legs broken.

Priests

You know what, reader? You never see a ripped priest. Here's some possible reasons why:

1. Time spent praying/ preying on minors could be better spent up in the gym.
2. Priests don't rock enough bicep curls in the confessional booth (when clearly they fucking should be).
3. Body and blood of Christ don't get you big (might I suggest these two be replaced with low-carb alternatives such as protein flakes or strawberry protein shakes).
4. "The Lord is my Sheppard" isn't the type of music that gets one in the mood for working out (unless it was laid it out over some drum'n bass shit) (Office gag).
5. If you weigh too much you won't ascend into Heaven.
6. Priests believe in fake stories such as one session a week gets you big.
7. More mass doesn't mean more muscle.
8. If a priest's neck gets too big then they'd have no shoulders to hang their robes off.
9. The pooh-change theists place in the collection basket each week isn't enough to cover a gym membership. Moreover, I'd be pretty fucking scared if I saw a naked priest in the showers with me (that's if there was enough room in there).
10. A big priest wouldn't be talking to anyone smaller than them and thus, would never deliver mass again.

Maybe priests are a little big, but those baggy drapes hide their physique? I don't want to fucking find out.

Here's a fucked up priest in Melbourne:

Midgets

There's a whole heap of fucked up porno sites on the internet. I take it you've all heard of midget porn and how hilariously funny it is. While I think it's great that people from all walks of life can come together and laugh at people smaller than them, no one has ever stopped and asked me, humongous hitachi, how I feel about it. Every girl I've ever shagged has been about 3 times smaller than me (no midget). Sometimes I don't find it funny.

Help! call 000

Growing up, my family was really rude to me. "He's just big boned" they would say (yeah, clearly I'm this fucking huge because of my bones). "lol!!!1 I should put a brick on your head so you stop growing" or "Someone should put you in a vice so you stop growing sideways" are just a few examples.

This got me thinking, where the fuck would you find a vice that's as wide as a Hummer? Would this vice be made of titanium? Would my entire family be strong enough to force me into this vice or would they trick me into getting into it? I know they're going behind my lats to do this shit to me, what should I do?

Shrug off.

A small guy interputed my first set of shrugs at the gym the other day with a newby question - "What muscle does that exercise train?"
"Your ankles" I replied. Then busted out another 3 reps up in his face.

Welcome back, Blogger.

I've gotten too big. I've had to knock out a few walls in my house because I was so sick of walking sideways to avoid bumping my shoulders. If I was weak, I'd be covered in bruises. But I'm not. I'm massive.

Biceptual experience.

To cut a long story short, a friend and I ended up in the sticky hallway of a peep show last night with a gay guy we'd just met. He was a cool guy until he got me alone and posed the question, "You ever had a bi-experience?"
"Sorry?" I replied. In the hope that he wouldn't repeat it again.
He said it a little louder, "You ever had a BI-EXPERIENCE?"
I could have easily little finger curled this guys entire body weight. I really needed an escape from this yucky situation asap. Instead of using my weight to over power or politely saying I wasn't interested I simply replied, "I eat shit."
"Sorry?" He replied. He knew what I'd said.
"I eat shit, dude, and smear it all over my rad body." I said this straight face. (Ha!)
"You mean feces?"
"Yeah, shit. " I said.
"Serious?"
"No shit." So he backed away. Within the minute he'd ask my mate the same question. He's a lot smaller than me and who really gives a fuck what any small guy has to say laughed and told him that he wasn't interested.

This post is sort of a heads-up to my attractive readers so that they know what's the best way to handle a situation like this. If you're small or ugly you've got to take what you can get.

Just a quick observation

Not Again...

She slapped my arse again this morning.

Thanks, Mum... I guess.

This morning I was standing at the kitchen sink in my Y-fronts getting a non-protein drink. My Mum comes up behind me, slaps my arse then says, "You've got a good body, you know that?" I looked at her with a wide-eyed expression and didn't say a word. Nothing more was said.

I didn't know what to make of this situation. Either:
A) Mum was offering a genuine compliment.
B) Mum is leading a double life as the superhero: Captain Obvious.
C) She thought I was someone else (Who else? My brother?!)
D) No woman, not even my Mum, can resist my rad body.

I'm scared.

A big guy squeezes through the door to a bar...

The bartender says, "You can come in, but I can't help you out!"


(This is a post for those of you that don't read ozhiphop. I know you're out there)

Why I can't join the Bra Boys

To join the Bra Boys you need to be able to grab the wrist on your other hand (Left hand grabs right forearm and vice-versa). Koby demonstrates below:


Yep, you guessed it. My forearms are too big to strike this pose.

Arms v. Pillows

This is one of those blog ideas you get before you fall asleep at night: If you can fit your arm under your pillow when you fall asleep then you're small and your life isn't worth living.

Best Tattoo ever.

Bingo

This is going to be another one of those 'This is what I did today' posts. You don't like the idea of that? I'm bigger than you. I'll beat you up. Don't forget.

Tonight I played Bingo - one of those sports where size doesn't matter, a bit like Ping-pong. That's why I don't like it [no racist]. It's hard to staunch out your opponents because, for the most part, people have their heads down crunching numbers and it's hard to standover people that can't see or hear threats you make towards them (unless you're standing up in their face, bitch).

If it was up to me, bingo would be a full contact sport. The person that calls bingo would have to have to wrestle with the pensioner while numbers continued to be called out. There would be spot fights breaking out all over the place to fight it out over who gets to be the first to claim the meat basket. At the same time, they need the protein from the meat more than I do.

Open invitation.

People watch me play street fighter and say, "You think you're good because you finished the game with perfect health every fight".
I know I'm good. They don't know that the game was set on the most difficult setting.

I'll challange anyone to an arm-wrestle and/or street fighter match. Loser has to accept a reach-around from the midget of my choice.

Bodybuilding Treat For Valentine's Day

Valentines Day is usually a time for treating that special someone. A rose, perfume or some chocolates perhaps. If you wish to show your love with fine food, but want to avoid all the excess calories, the following two recipes should help. In fact, they are so tasty, and nutritious, they should appeal not only to the health conscious among us. Give your Valentine the personal touch with these easy to make recipes. They are sure to impress.

Hardcore Valentine Chicken

"Let's cook something healthy and tasty to build muscle."

You Will Need:
A cookie heart-shape cutter
3/4 cup of polenta
3x 3/4 cup of water
One chicken breast
Balsamic vinegar
Salt and pepper
Frisee lettuce

Directions:
Combine water and some salt in a saucepot. Over a high flame, bring water to the boil and slowly stir in polenta. Heat and stir for five minutes until mixture pulls away from sides of pot. Pour out onto a lightly moistened platter and flatten into the square. Let it cool off. Use the cookie cutter to cut polenta into the shape of a heart.

You can make three full hearts out of this square. Set the grill at 400 degrees. Put the chicken breast to marinate with two-tablespoons of balsamic vinegar, some salt and black pepper. Marinate for 10 minutes.

Now take the chicken breast out and cut it into the heart shape with the cookie cutter. Grill for four minutes. Serve polenta and chicken hearts on a plate. Decorate your plate with frisee lettuce. Enjoy this healthy Valentine dinner.

Protein Loaded Chocolate Truffles

We all love chocolate truffles, but for bodybuilding purposes we would like them without sugar, and to be low in carbs, and loaded with protein. Impossible? Well here is a recipe you will love.

Ingredients:
0.75 lbs of dark sugar free chocolate
One cup of Quaker Quick One-minute Oats
One espresso shot
Four Splenda packets
One cup of chocolate protein powder
Water

Preparation:
Chop block of the chocolate with knife and put in double boiler with the water at the bottom of pot. Once the chocolate has melted in upper Pyrex bowl, take the Pyrex bowl of water, add one cup of chocolate protein powder, one cup of oats, the espresso shot and Splenda. Mix together. Let this cool off for 20 minutes.

With the ice cream scoop, shape the truffles. Put them on the top of the baking paper and allow to cool for 10 minutes. Take one plate, add one cup of vanilla protein powder and roll the truffles on it. This gives you the option of white truffles. Use one cup of chocolate protein powder on another plate provides dark truffles.

Taken from www.bodybuilding.com/fun/drobson153.htm

My friend has trouble getting it up...

But I don't have that kind of problem.

A dozen or so things I could never do.

• Bench press anything less than 1 tonne.
• Date a girl with a faster car than me.
• Walk past a mirror without checking myself out.
• Pass a drug test.
• Listen to Bliss'n Eso for longer than a 10 seconds without laughing.
• Put a t-shirt on without stretching the neck larger than the waist.
• Play video games without a reinforced titanium controller.
• Enjoy sex with someone that isn't me.
• Wear a baseball hat and tuck my ears into the hat.
• Talk about something that doesn't involve my awesome physique.

Don't live life in the small lane...

As much as I enjoyed swimming today, I did encounter a few problems. Why are the lapping lanes so small?! I need to take up at least two lanes, one way, to be able to do laps. It's no real problem knocking smaller swimmers out/out of the way, but I don't want to get kicked from the pool every time I dabble in a little cardio*.


*Cardio is one of my many guilty pleasures. If you do too much cardio exercise you'll find that your muscles, if you have any worth mentioning, will shrink. And we all know how pathetic that would make you look.

Surfing

Today I went Surfing. Not only was it difficult for my board to stay afloat, but I was too large to fit in between the flags. I like surfing.

Introduction

First off, my name's Danny. I am fucking huge. Here's a list of things that will let you know whether you're anything like me:

• Are you pretty and pretty hard to miss?
• Did the U.S. government think that you had two of Saddam's Weapons of Mass Destruction attached to your shoulders?
• Do people confuse you for the Eureka Tower in Melbourne?
• Do you find it difficult to spoon with girls without crushing them?
• Have girls come up to you and touched you to see whether you were cold thinking you were a marbel sculpture - perfect?

Chances are you would have answered No to every question. If you answered Yes to anyone of those questions, I'll meet you at Eltham Gym in 20 and we'll have it out on the benchpress.