March, 25th, 2006 Saturday

came across this shit when browsing for bodybuilding stuffs... and I laughed my head off....

and it really happens sometimes...ahahha...

March, 20th, 2006 Monday

I WANT TO DECLARE THAT TODAY IS A TOTALLY FUCKED-UP MONDAY !!!!!!!
don't ask why. its so, cos jerry said so! and jovy freakin' tore my world apart.................arrrggggghhhhh

March, 19th, 2006 Sunday

RIDICULOUS!!!! how on earth could anyone grow that size forearms!!!???!!

Thats just insane!! he even have peaks on them!!!! its just unbelieveable..........

People ask us why we attempt something that seems so hard on the human body, that no one in their right mind would ever conceive? Answer: Because we can. We know we are different. We know that we strive for physical perfection. We like to be different.

People such as myself like going to the gym everyday, busting our asses, workout after workout, rep after rep, to see change… To see improvements the likes of which most people only dream of. damn it you know what I am talking about. You look at yourself everyday in the mirror and say to yourself, “I want my arms to be bigger, I need them to be bigger,” or “My back needs to be wider.” You don't stand there and hope that you will change everyday. You don't close your eyes and dream. You go and do something about it. You desire change so you bust your balls in the gym.

This is a one man journey. There are no teammates on a field with you so that if you fuck up, someone is going to save your ass… Doesn't work that way. You fuck up, it is your fault.Like Arnold said in “Pumping Iron,” it's like an orgasm. Unlike football or baseball, you have to have your own motivation. If you want to give up and not train, fuck it, that is fine with everyone else… No one else gives a shit, nobody cares… Only you. You stand alone with no one else, win or lose.

I could also say that sometimes you want the feeling that you are doing something that other people cannot do. Let's be honest, you may be humble, but it is always good to pat yourself on the back from time to time. You sweat, eat, and live this shit. Why not take advantage of a good feeling that you get once you have reached the pinnacle. Remember you bust your ass in something that most people see no need to do and you don't do it just to say that you're a bodybuilder. You do it because you are made for it, love it, and want more of it. Fuck 'em… It is out of envy when people look at you and make comments, good or bad, because deep down they know, they don't have the heart, ball sack or the discipline to look the way you do, truth be told.

It is an addicting shit. You train to be better. It is such a motivating feeling that words cannot describe it. It is an unexplainable phenomenon of the human psyche. One may never truly understand why we grow to love this shit.

So the next time when someone asks me that million dollar question, here's a possible answer: Mind your fucking business. Or, if you really want to know, grow a set and try it sometime.

March, 10th, 2006 Friday

someone had asked me whether my rear lat spread is still as wide. and so, i decided to snap a shot and make some comparison. the width didn't really increase, but i did bring the lats down lower to the waist, which was good i think. the left photo i was weighing at around 90kg, and the right one 82kg. so i guess i didn't really loose much of the muscle mass while dieting with low carbs.

coolest rear lat spread

March, 7th, 2006 Tuesday (11:19pm....)

MY TIME IS NOW

Sitting in the damn office all day long cranking out daily work for a paycheck. Eight to ten hours a day given to someone else in exchange for money. Time in my life that I will never get back.

Watching the clock, pushing my self five. The gym is where I get that time back, one set at a time. Pushing myself beyond what I thought my limits were. Thirty second sets one after the other, that's time given back to me. This time spent is not for my family or my rich ass boss or the girl on her cell phone next to me. These minutes are mine. Only I can use this time not to make money to pay the fucking bills, this time is spent paying the dues owed when you push that last forced rep.

A minute at a time, each plate, each rep gives me back my life that I give away to others everyday. The sounds of the freaking clanging of the cold iron blot out everything from the hours past.

The fatigue sickness in my stomach keeps me going like a machine, rep after rep, set after set, minute after minute, telling me I am alive and this is my time. When the sets are done and I can give nothing more, its time for me to return to the life given to others. I will return the next day to claim the minutes that are mine....

This is Animal, and it lives inside me every minute, every hour, everyday.