When you first dove into the cult that is bodybuilding, you might have viewed it as a sure-fire way to get pussy. Visions of shrieking females throwing discharged panties as you graced them with a side-tricep pose, bikini competitors performing fellatio on you while you watch Battle for the Olympia 1983, and beautiful big-breasted blonde twins fighting each other in the nautilus room for your attention. The dreams came crashing down as you realized the only person that desires you sexually is a fat, hairy-backed male vulture who is your sole means of financial support. However, even women can be fooled to the type of person you are with the right amount of lies.
It’s probably a good idea to not discuss most of the activities that encapsulate your life. Thinking about telling a first-date your ‘entrepreneurial exploits’ of drug dealing and whoring yourself out to other men? Think again stud, because this is going to set off more than a few red flags. The topic of personal drug use can be easily handled however. If you’re an ‘honest’ bodybuilder you can say that you use ‘pro-hormones’ to ‘enhance your physique’. Buy a bottle of your favorite rat poison experimental pro-hormone and keep it by the bedside. This way when you get a host of disturbing side-effects you can shrug it off to pro-hormone use, and not the fact you are injecting illegal substances in the range of 5 grams weekly.
The average bodybuilder falls in love with a woman after about two conversations and some mild cuddling. This might be the effect of ungodly amounts of hormones, but researchers aren’t quite sure. The more plausible reason for this is that bodybuilders are incredibly narcissistic attention whores and just want ‘someone to love them’. It’s a lonely life style gourmandizing 5 chicken breasts daily and getting tucked in at 9 pm, and if you find someone to put up with all of your bullshit, the arrow of cupid will probably penetrate your muscular ass. Chances are the only woman that will go with you is a hideous gorgon. She’s going to easily be two bills and wear a wardrobe that mainly consists of Looney Tunes T-shirts and sweatpants. People will be somewhat perplexed when they see such an alpha-male stud in public with such a beastly shrew of a woman, but you can chalk it up to being ‘charity work’. The reality is that a good looking, intelligent woman is not going to spend the rest of their lives with a man that looks at himself in the mirror for an average of 4 hours daily.
At this point you might be asking yourself “But, where do I even find myself such a gorgon/shrew?” This part is going to be a little tricky, I won’t lie. The dating world is a very cruel environment for bodybuilders. Your best bet is to make an internet profile composed of 95% lies on an internet dating website. This is an absolute win on all fronts because you won’t have to squander time being a predator at your local bar and risk going catabolic. Plus, rejection is much easier to deal with in the cyber-realm than actual reality.
Absolutely, do not, under any conditions post a picture of yourself shirtless, and for the love of Rich Gaspari’s glutes don’t bring an 8×10 photo of yourself in competition shape to your first date. You are going to have to make a few ‘sacrifices’ in order to reel in your first swamp donkey. I’m not talking about sacrifices like “carb depletion” or letting an eager ‘fan’ lick your shriveled testicles. I’m referring to sacrifices like: abstaining from wearing size large Ed Hardy t-shirts, taking numerous bathroom breaks at a restaurant to flex in the bathroom lighting, and eating a ‘junk meal’. These are the very things that rock the very foundation of your fragile psyche. On the first few dates, you might not even mention the fact you are a bodybuilder, but maybe just hint that you ‘workout occasionally’. This conveniently combines with the lie that someone once told you that you have ‘good genetics’. Like it was completely feasible you somehow stumbled across your unnatural herculean physique from playing rugby and doing pushups.
The level of confrontation with your chosen shrew will directly correlate with the levels of Trenbolone Acetate you are injecting. If you’re taking 75mg every other day you can expect arguments possibly 4 times a week. Jack up the dose to 100mg everyday and you are buying coca-cola by the case to dispose of your love affair’s corpse in a convenient manner that will leave no trace of your deceased antagonist. The simple feat of heaving the lifeless critic in a bathtub and immersing them in soda should eat away any evidence. This is really good, because going to prison and appearing on Dateline Murder Mysteries are inherently catabolic activities. None the less, you can be rest assured that no conniving bitch will demand you ‘spend time with them’ or inquire about where $8,000 magically disappeared to ever again.
So, your cretinous female has decided to stay with you for life? You are the laughing stock of your entire friend-base, but that’s a given. What do you do when she wants kids? This is going to be pretty problematic to be sure. More than likely you’ve made yourself a chemical eunuch and it is going to take some serious fucking drugs to make this possible. Rest assured though, it will be ok. Double up on HCG and Clomid until you can shoot a load that is bigger than your normal pathetic jizz pearl. With the blessings of fictional Jesus you might be able to reproduce and have a hideous child with no athletic abilities and abhorrent ugly genetics. One day they will discover photos of you spreading your ass cheeks apart until you can see your lower intestines and they will be certainly damaged. Hopefully, at this time technology will be advanced to the point where they can consume a combination of SSRIS to cure their dysfunctional childhood.
Your relationship will fail after about 3 weeks. If you are extremely lucky and manage to ‘rope one in’ you might have a marriage that will last 15 months. If you have any sensibility, you will save up money for a divorce attorney, because rest assured your shrew companion is going to milk you until your nipples scream in pain from excessively high estrogen levels. You might be reduced to penury but this is not the end of the saga. You will easily be able to neglect your child, whore yourself for a few more drugs and continue your career as a glorified male prostitute. No one said it was going to be easy, brah.
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