How do I drive 5 hours without fucking killing myself?

Broseph writes:

Have you counted the number of times Brent says he’s going to kill himself?
And I’m out of line?!
C’mon man, let’s not get mad on the internet.

This is kind of irrefutable guys.

Can I be real for a second?

I feel like some of you folks aren’t getting along in the comments. I like to think we are all just chilling at a perpetual house party. It feels like this to me because every time I write on the blog or read the comments I am listening to Daft Punk, or something of comparable content. With that in mind – why are you so MAD? We all like to lift weights and LOVE barbell curls. We all like feet. We all write sad poetry and/or depressing erotica, or at the very least jerk off to it. I just don’t understand why all of us aren’t acting like the internet best friends that we really are.

Though honestly – honestly – and I mean honestly – you don’t have to wish physical harm on Frank’s family. Just be a better athlete than he is.

Broseph also writes:

Frank Yang’s “art” is essentially advertisements for Frank Yang (rather, the persona he wants people to accept.)
He isn’t very original and his work is trite, for the most part. He usually doesn’t makes any significant statement about society, culture, media or… anything really.
Of course, he does produce a few interesting pieces every once in a while but he’s extremely egotistical for no reason at all– he’s not that strong, not very smart and he’s really not that artistic. It’s as though he walked into the library of an art college, picked a book off the shelf and starting picking out things he thought were funny then doing those things and filming them. He really needs to grow the fuck up.

He’s just bored, lacks direction, and is expressing himself through the only outlets he knows. He’s probably aware he’s not making any real statements, and I doubt that’s his actual intention. He’s just fucking bored and spends a lot of time in his own head. If I had never met Justin and made more friends I would have turned out the same way. In fact, before I met Justin and made more friends, I was the same way. Frank Yang and I are dishearteningly similar. People are just more likely to want to want hang out with me.

I got sick this week so didn’t really train that great on Tuesday, other than doing +100lbs on my weighted chins for a PR triple.

I wrote some more erotica though. My prompt for this one was “ice cream”:

We sit in a bathtub filled with strawberry ice cream. It was my idea. I said, “It’d be good for recovery too. Ice baths can reduce inflammation.”

It is sticky and the drain is clogged.

“This was a terrible idea,” she says. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into it.”

“Well it was going to be more romantic than this – ”

“ONE candle. You call ONE unscented candle romantic.”

“Well what about the rose petal trail leading to the bathroom?”

“The one I’ll have to clean up?”

“Look just let me get down there and do my thing,” I say, “I’m hungry and this is my favorite flavor and you’ll get into it eventually.”

She pushes my face away as I approach.

“I feel disgusting. I’m going to shower.” She gets out of the tub. “In the OTHER bathroom.”

I sit shivering in the tub by myself. I wipe a finger through the melting mess and suck on it pensively.

+ + +

(My prompt for this one was “lesbian.”)

She rubbed her clam against the other one’s.

She said ow you’re hurting me.

She said what.

She said I said you’re hurting me.

She said well I told you we should have used more of the lube.

Her response was but it gets so messy more of it gets on the bed than it does on us.

They gave up on rubbing clams. They considered digital manipulation but one had just gotten her nails manicured and the other had not trimmed hers for several weeks.

Finally they decided to rely on their old stand-by with lingual caresses of each other’s clitoral peaks and the surrounding milieu. One clambered atop the other and the bottom said stop it you are poking my eye with what the other said your toes she exclaimed.

When all was said and done they lay sweating with exertion, dissatisfied with the investment of their effort and feeling exasperated. One smoked a cigarette the other did not like the smoke but said nothing.

+ + +

You can draw your own conclusions about the fact that a lot of my erotica is about disappointing and unfulfilling sex.

Joe, the meet is in Alvin. The venue is at the Alvin High School Gymnasium at 802 S. Johnson. I don’t think meets are spectator sports but oly meets are a lot shorter and faster than PL meets – one session comprised of 15 or so lifters is typically done in maybe 2 hours (as in, all attempts for all lifters completed in about 2 hours). I don’t compete until Sunday but have all of Friday and Saturday off. If you want to hang out for the weekend let me know (aren’t we facebook friends now?). I don’t drink alcohol, am not receptive to bars or clubs, and nothing’s going in my butt. Holla atcha boy.

Kittensmash, I don’t understand why you don’t like that people are using memes that aren’t necessarily mine. “It’s fine” is something I said on occasion a while back whenever someone made fun of me, “I don’t have feelings or anything it’s fine,” “Not a big deal or anything it’s fine,” “I didn’t go out of my way or anything it’s fine.” Somehow it became a meme between Mike and Chris, so they’d punctuate every sentence with “it’s fine.” When I noticed this, I started spamming it with them – now a lot of people on 70s big are saying it and we’re just one more internet sub-community with our own memes. There’s nothing wrong with that. Perfectly normal, perfectly healthy.

Some people have interpreted the memes in the comments as nut-hugging, which would make sense if I were someone people looked up to. I am just a dude with an occasionally amusing blog for people to supplement their other time-sinks.

I C+Jed 300lbs tonight.

Last night I went into training a little too fasted and tired and benched 255lbs x 5 for a PR, followed by 4, 1, and 3. Spotter’s head was distracting me on that third set, as in if I fixed my eyes in the usual spot on the ceiling, we’d be making eye contact. I probably could have done better were it not for that, but I’m not mad at him for it, it is my own fault for needing a fucking spotter for 255lbs. I did the last set without a spotter.

I did some shitty high-bar back squats, hitting 405lbs for 1, 4, 2, and 2.

Tacked-and-stretched my distal hams and rolled on high hams/glutes, felt pretty good afterwards. I need to hit the distal hams more often because they need some work, they feel tight doing RDLs, good mornings, and when I wind up into position for the snatch and clean, and I suspect that tightness limits my ability to extend the legs while maintaining my back angle. I also suspect that my ankles/gastrocs need some work as well in that respect since the gastrocs are flexors of the knee.

Tonight I power snatched 210lbs for +5lbs PR, went to 225lbs and then immediately to 245lbs – missed it twice, seems like the height was there but I was being kind of a pussy. It felt doable though. In retrospect, it would have been wiser to go to 235lbs before attempting a PR, but I was feeling hot.

C+Jed up to 300lbs. My split has legit improved. I got driven deeper into the split at 300lbs, typically that means my back foot twists out of internal rotation and the structural support for that side collapses and I can’t hold the bar overhead at all. Tonight I was driven deeper into the split, but the shifting of my hips was small enough that I maintained control of the bar and just turned 30-45 degrees to my left and managed to stabilize and recover. My clean was pretty easy so I suspect I could hit 310lbs-ish if I were to attempt to go max-effort there. I feel like I should be good to open at 130k/286lbs at the meet, which would be a PR on my first attempt c+j.

Good mornings at 175lbs for 3×5, rowed 245lbs x 5, weighted chins 100lbs x 2, did some db lat delt raises and curls.

Someone asked if I was still doing RDLs – I am, but I’m not doing anything exciting with them so. The good mornings are not all that exciting either but I like the lumbar pump and the distal ham soreness I get with them.

Two awkward moments at the gym today:

So I’ve mentioned before that roughly half the people at this gym are geared, drugged powerlifters. We see each other a lot obviously since we spend a lot of time training so we recognize each other’s faces but we’re not at the point where we greet each other or anything. Probably because they are geared, drugged powerlifters and I am some fucking piece of shit newbie who just hit his first 300lbs c+j tonight, BRB 62k lifters c+j 300lbs for their last warm-ups it’s fine. We probably don’t talk because I am like good high box squats in Centaurions and squat briefs and they are like good 225lbs snatch I curl that but I guess it’s “good for your bodyweight” you fucking twink but these thoughts aren’t necessarily voiced between us.

Anyways I was resting in-between lifts and I see one of the regular PL guys walking in, all red-faced with oily skin and retaining a lot of water. We make eye contact for about two seconds, which is one second too long because we both know we’ve seen each other and I’m like well I guess I’ll wave hi. He doesn’t return the wave and does the dbol shuffle to the monolift oohKAY.

Second story is I like the inversion table for spinal compression. Throw in a few twists and some contract/relax of abs and then come back up, feels pretty refreshing. It’s stationed in front of the cardio area of the gym so anyone there gets to watch your show. So I invert, come back up, and dismount, except I don’t quite get my right ankle free from the supports and I end up almost face-planting while muttering “it’s fiiine.” Two old people laughed at me.

squat brah writes:

lol…don’t know what all the hate towards frank is really about here..the fact is that the guy has a huge vertical and great 40 yard dash, and is probably far more athletic than all the guys here….

“Far more athletic” I’m sorry the guy jumps on boxes and is incapable of keeping his hips planted on the bench or holding thoracic and lumbar extension, please raise your standards. Watch him squat in that vid you linked. His knees could be more valgus. BRB collapsed arches BRB I guess he doesn’t give a fucking shit about external rotation of the hip BRB he could spend the time he invests in making these videos into being a better athlete with some mobility BUT HE WON’T, BECAUSE HE’S TOO BUSY BEING AN EGO LIFTER ON YOUTUBE ALSO IT LOOKS LIKE HIS DIET IN TAIWAN RESTRICTS HIS PROTEIN INTAKE TO ABOUT 60G A DAY.

Best writes:

Yesterday I Pressed 95kg for 3 reps,
Should I drop the weight down because of my layback and shit form?
Happy New Year, hope you finally take the plunge this year and bang some whoores.

Those were good presses, I pressed 15lbs less than that for a max-effort single with significantly more lay back. I’m not the best person to ask about training advice but I wouldn’t drop the weight down because of that lay back. The only thing I’m banging out this next year is a bunch of curls dude.

Ben writes:

i’d like to know what brobility wod has to say about the benefits of licking one’s fingers before giving a trap slap. care to comment?

Excitation level is a subtle thing to manipulate. In mobility, Kelly talks about just small adjustments in posture (belly button/sternum relationship), or the difference between biasing external or internal rotation a little more and suddenly the drill/soft-tissue work becomes much more painful and effective. When we’re dealing with an athlete’s excitation level, the same little details can produce similarly large effects. But this is a discussion for another episode of brobility wod.

Adam P. writes:

What do you think of Brian Chia? 605 Deadlift with double overhand (no straps, maybe hook grip?) but he is a terrible singer.

Oh look an athletic Asian who doesn’t have to make psuedo-artistic videos to draw attention to mediocre lifts. 605lbs double overhand makes me want to kill myself. This is in direct contrast with Frank Yang, who’s scrubby c+js and valgus knees/collapsed arches/shitty external rotation in his extra low-bar squats make me happy I’m not him.

Even in my fantasies I am alone.

Last night I pressed 190lbs for 3 singles and 195lbs for 1 single. This would have been cooler if I pressed 190/195lbs for more reps.

Front squat 365lbs x 3, then 2, pressed 170lbs x 5, worked up to +90lbs weighted ring dips.

Pretty OK workout, I could have done more sets but got called into work.

Saul power cleaned 300lbs x 1 and deadlifted 500lbs x 1 (<– Saul had nothing to say about this).

Today I snatched + hang snatched from below the knee up to 215lbs, then snatched 225lbs and missed the hang snatch. Worked up to a 275lbs c+j, cleaned 295lbs and missed the jerk. Did some good mornings, chin ups, curls, and db lateral delt raises.

JC writes:

I find the fact that this blog is filed under “Training logs” on the mainsite increasingly amusing.

I think the ratio of workout:life stuff has reached an irreversible tipping point and thanks to a surprisingly large readership you’ve now become trapped in a prison of your own making.

Still… I bet this will be quite a story once you finally escape. Please try to think happy thoughts… if you can. Stay safe.

All right. I’ll think of happy thoughts.

I meet a girl. She is kind and has pretty brown eyes. There is a sadness in her gaze that compels me. She gives me the time of day. I make her laugh. Soon, she smiles when she thinks of my name. Soon we are hugging. Soon I steal a kiss – and she gives me another. I feel bright. We are lying in her bed. I am half-napping, her head buried against my chest (which could bench more than 275lbs x 3). I trace my fingers up her back to her neck where my touch lingers in lazy circles. The sunlight is warm. My retinas produce splotches of red when I close my eyes, a semi-permanent image that I try to keep in my mind.

Now it is dark. I feel heat. Her lips are soft and wet; my skin burns cold from their caress. She strokes me to hardness and my want, my yearning is unbearable. “Touch me,” she says, and I do, hungrily. She gasps and my mouth finds hers, we breathe into each other, she is my heart, she is my heart.

It is quiet. I am staring at a wall. This is all too familiar. Like when she left me. I’m sorry, she told me, I’m sorry I’m sorry, and she was gone. The door stayed open behind her. I don’t watch TV and I don’t feel like writing and I don’t feel like lifting so I find a comfortable place and sit. Waiting for something. How much time have I spent hoping? Do I even know what I’m hoping for?

When I see her again years later she is smiling. She holds someone else in her arms and is happy. Her pretty brown eyes are bright. Maybe her quiet gaze was never what I thought it was. Maybe her sadness was mine.

I feel heavy. I rack the bar and it buries me, I climb and stall and drop back into the hole, trying to catch the rhythm of the bar to stand again and again before I fail and crumple. I stand hunched with my hands on my knees while nebulous splotches of red dance behind my retinas, memories I am trying to erase. I load more lbs onto the bar, crank into position, pull again. I am tired. Gravity is a constant.

Even in my fantasies I am alone.

karibot writes:

I have a job interview tomorrow, and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it without mobbing beforehand. Perfectly normal, perfectly healthy?

I’ve always felt that movement is expression. There’s nothing weird or irrational about mobbing before a job interview, or before doing anything that you care about imo – you are reflected by your actions, and your every movement is action. We are all athletes. There is no reason we would want to venture out without giving us the advantage of improved position, smoother sliding surfaces, and more movement options. You’re making a good decision.

Why do I have fucking 90 comments on the last post??????

The comments are getting unwieldy. I don’t get or care about what most of you guys are talking about in them anyway.

Hey guys – let me just say I’m glad there’s so many high bar squatters reading the blog. Saul, it’s irrelevant if you squat more than the high bar squatters because to me it’s a matter of solidarity. I squat high bar primarily out of spite.

I’ve been having sleep overs at my aunt’s place to hang out with family so yeah. Over the course of Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday I’ve

– benched 275lbs x 3 for a lifetime PR. /pats self on the back for benching like a fucking pussy high schooler
– c+jed up to 285lbs, cleaned up to 290lbs
– snatched up to 225lbs
– hang snatched 215lbs from below the knee <– I guess a PR
– back squat like a fucking bitch

Overall not terribly bad. My jerks have continued to feel pretty good. I've been focusing on internally rotating the flexed leg a little more for when I hit up couch stretch, though I should probably do some hip IR-specific mobbing. I think hip extension in my back leg is also a limiting factor in hitting a good split so I should prob start doing stuff for that too, I didn't like super couch (i.e. band approximation to the front of the hip) because it made my hips feel impinged so I'm gonna have to search for some other shit to do and maybe focus on the hip extension component in regular couch stretch.

Saul writes:

He doesn’t train his traps, he’s a fucking FARCE. Has this whole blog dedicated to them not being big enough and the nick name of shrugthug and I’VE NEVER SEEN HIM DO ONE GODDAMN weighted SHRUG THE WHOLE TIME I’VE TRAINED WITH HIM.

This is pretty accurate. I’ve been living a lie. I’ve probably cared more about my lateral delts than I have about my traps in the past month.

Best, why are you so MAD? Look man, I feel like we are starting off on the wrong foot. I feel like if we met through a Bromance app we’d be good friends. I’d say hey man, what’s up, are you training today? You’d say yeah man I’m gonna do some power cleans and squats. I’d be like well hey man that’s cool I’m gonna do some pressing and front squats, you want to get a gyro pre-workout? You’d say bro that sounds tight, I am there, name the time and place. And we’d meet up for gyros, I’d get chips you’d get fries. I’d take some of your fries without asking and ask if you want some chips and it’d be perfectly normal, perfectly healthy. Then we’d go train together and when you got to your worksets I’d be like, “Come on Nate, let’s go. Let’s see it.” Then you could slap my traps before I started my press work sets since I power clean the weight before I go. Then we’d do the hand shake hug thing that guys do and say hey man you looked great out there I’ll see ya tomorrow.

I just feel like you are not letting this natural friendship happen just because I hate myself and my life and act like a victim of missed opportunities.

Karibot writes:

I’ll slap your traps, Brent. How does that make you feel?

Makes me feel like I’d be 15% more likely to PR if you were to do it on a PR attempt.

Hey Brent how was your Christmas.

Parents met my sister at a Korean restaurant for lunch. Mom tells my sister to meet them at KoMart, a Korean grocery store, about 15mins away. Parents proceed to drive to my aunt’s place, roughly 25mins away in another direction. Parents get to aunt’s house, mom realizes she’d directed my sister to KoMart and did not notify them of the sudden, unexplained change of immediately spoken plans. Oh, mom says on the phone, but can you still run in and pick up some side dishes?

“I’m going to kill you,” my sister says.

There is nothing unusual to me about the above story. To me that’s called a smooth operation.

Had a sleep over at my aunt’s while my cousin from Seattle was in town. Her idea of waking you up is to jump on you or to toss the pomeranian onto you. The pomeranian is now afraid of her because he’s old and his back probably hurts. This is the same pomeranian who has been reduced to wearing a diaper.

My cousin takes back to Seattle with her the uncontrollable urge to punctuate most of what she says with “it’s fine.” She also now associates any mention of the word “testosterone” with me because I kept talking about it with her. Perfectly normal, perfectly healthy.

The fact that I am single was a pretty hot topic this week. Aunt told me, “I feel bad that I don’t know any Korean girls for you to meet.” Uncle said during one particular drive, “What would you do if I told you I knew a Korean girl, about your age, born and raised here, smart like you, and single?” This uncle also liked to lecture us after every meal about life stuff, during which my cousin said in Korean, “Dad, do you think you can wrap this up?” The conversation at the time was essentially, “Brent, if you intend on marrying a non-Korean, discuss it with your dad first so when you introduce her, whoever she may be, he won’t be shocked and disappointed. Because – and I don’t want to make you feel any pressure but – ahem IT CAN’T BE AVOIDED – you are the only son! The son of the oldest brother! Of course there is pressure. But the most important thing is that you like the person you are with. So you have to think of first, yourself. Then your parents. Then everyone else.”

I just keep thinking to myself: at what point does the fact that the family dies with me stop being funny? At what point does it stop being, oh haha Brent, oh you, you’ll meet a nice (Korean-American) girl some day. When does it turn into something that my relatives stop talking to me about. Because I’m 35, with rapidly decreasing T levels, and only a bunch of sad poems that no one’s read to keep me company. At what point does it stop being humorous and cute, and it begins to be an embarrassment. Like the relative who is an alcoholic. Or the one who lost his family and his life to a gambling addiction. Or the fucking 40 year old loser who benches in his basement, blogging about his completely fabricated life.

I am not good at improv.

Pressed 190lbs x 2, then got another single. I could have pressed it for more reps. I felt good for the warm-ups and smoked 180lbs pretty well as my last warm-up, intending to go for 190 x 3, but I guess I was too ambitious. I’ll take three reps total at 190lbs though, and I may just attempt this again next week and do some reduced volume afterwards for the press.

I snatched like a fucking loser today, worked up to 195lbs + 1 snatch from below the knee hang. I missed 205lbs and 215lbs from the below the knee hang. I could be a better athlete.

Today was one of those rare days where my jerks felt as good as my cleans, and I hit 265lbs pretty well then went to 290lbs to attempt a +5lbs PR. My cleans were not feeling that strong but I felt I had it in me to jerk a PR – 290lbs was a touch out in front, but otherwise felt pretty doable. I was feeling aggressive and mildly depressed and loaded the bar to 295lbs and thought about things that make me want to fucking kill myself and managed to do this:

Front squat 365lbs x 1 and got stapled on the next rep. Did two sets at 315lbs for 5 and 4. This could have been a lot better, like, I could have fucking done 365 for a triple, but I guess I could have been fresher before attempting a front squat PR.

Weighted ring dipped up to 90lbs x 2, couldn’t power through the last rep for the triple. I’ll try this one more time on Thursday after my intensity bench, if it doesn’t go I’ll see what I can do for a 5rm PR.

I just want to say that I fasted for like, 18 hours prior to this workout. I mean, I fasted for 18 hours, ate a lbs of rump roast and some carrots and two small red potatoes, had a waxy maize/protein shake and a Starbucks mocha.

Here is a video of Saul’s 480lbs deadlift PR from Saturday.

Saul had missed 455lbs like twice before attempting 470lbs and 480lbs successfully with trap slaps.

Hey guys – this is a message from brobility Look – if you’re not trap slapping your athletes, you’re robbing them of pounds off their lifts. We need to think about blood flow and circulation and it’s relation to psychological excitation. When we slap these traps hard enough we get this really nice erythema. Do it hard enough and you get a hand-shaped tattoo. Depending on your level of sexual deviancy, you might be able to compare this to a mushroom tattoo. That nice, subtle tingly sensation you feel after good traptual contact? That’s a sudden influx of capillary blood flow. We look for the same thing when we want to ice hot spots. We already know the benefits to a sudden dilation of capillaries as far as the recovery process. What we haven’t looked at is it’s relationship to raising the excitation level of our athletes. Humans respond to pain. If you tickle me, do I not laugh? If you prick me, do I not bleed? If I enter the pain cave with a lacrosse ball lodged in my external rotators, do I not make a pain face (note – you shouldn’t). We need to start thinking about gearing our athletes up for max-effort attempts. We can start with the very basic tool of trap slaps. Let’s activate those nerve-endings, get the athletes thinking about setting their upper back for the pull, have them respond to pain, and get them pulling at full capacity. So today’s homework: have a super friend slap your traps for your worksets or your heaviest attempts. Experiment with severity, observe erythema. Do I pull better? Do I “feel” these muscles more? How does it affect my performance? That’s all for today, this is brobility wod, we’ll see you tomorrow.

Patrick asks:

Question. About your training layout. Lascek says you follow a loose framework week to week. What is that framework/layout?

Saul answered in the comments, it’s basically Texas Method with no light days and not on a set schedule. Except recently I’ve stopped doing TM for back squats and front squats and just alternate between each and try to hit a topset, then back off and so some volume. I do the oly lifts as many training days as I can if time allows, and I just work up to a single or two, though I’ll try to vary the movements i.e. doing work from the hang or boxes or focusing on the power snatch/clean variants to keep from burning out and to reinforce positions. I also do a volume week and intensity week for pressing, i.e. 4×5 press and 4×5 bench one week, then go for 1-3rms in press and bench the next. I’ve improved my pressing quite a bit and pretty consistently with this. I rotate my pulls each week, going from oly snatch/clean pulls and shrugs, to snatch-grip deads, to RDLs, and I’ll be doing legit heavy dead-stop deads after the oly meet in Houston.

Brian asks:

are there a lot of fobs in your area? i live in a concentrated area of south east asian fobs (mostly vietnamese), though i rarely meet any younger fobs my age. it seems that most have already assimilated pretty well.
which makes me wonder, how do you feel about how asian americans have assimilated into american culture? how do you feel that im asking how that feels?
oh and have you ever tried pho?

Yes, there are lot of fobby Koreans in Plano. I’m not friends with any of them.

I get along best with Asian-Americans who are at least as assimilated as I am. If I like an Asian girl, she is a lot more assimilated than I am. Should I talk to someone about this? Do I have a problem?

I love pho. I haven’t had it a long time but I could be convinced to not cook for a meal to go eat a bowl of pho pre- or post-workout (assuming it’s a volume day).

hamburgerfan asks:

Brent: when do you mob, relative to your workouts? I can’t mob before, or I will be too loose. I can’t mob after, or my muscles will start cramping in an out of control manner.

There are some mobs that I love pre-workout, though not necessarily immediately before. I do them at home over the course of about half an hour, then drive 20-30mins to go train and do a separate warm-up. Couch stretch, hip flexion + external rotation, best shoulder mob ever, double lacrosse ball to t-spine, peri-scapular death, and rolling out my high hammies and glutes half an hour before training always make me feel pretty fucking good. Suprapatellar tack-and-stretch and the distal triceps analog are good the night before, I also prefer to do hip approximation the night before. I haven’t tried to do anything immediately post, if I do mob post-workout it’s typically close to bed time.

Karibot, I’m happy you squat high-bar. In fact, if anyone else squats high-bar, please report in the comments.

Having a great time.

Snatched up to 230lbs, c+jed 285lbs, cleaned 295lbs twice and wasn’t successful with the jerk either time.

Snatch-grip DLed 375lbs for a triple, then 4.

Did some weighted pull ups, worked up to +90lbs x 2, finished up with barbell curls and dumbbell lateral delt raises.

First let me say this week is going to be fucking awful for my diet. My aunt wanted everyone to have kahlgguksoo for dinner, which is essentially spaghetti noodles with fucking zucchini. I mean, it’s a Korean dish, and that’s fine – but we all know why I’d rather eat something else. Luckily my uncle was not in the mood and we went to go eat hibachi before picking up my aunt and cousin from the airport. Which is not really that great. BRB consuming 2g sodium BRB sesame seed oil BRB what is this meat why is it not grass-fed. It’s fine. I’ll just be bloated, inflamed, and have significantly more GI upset for the sake of spending time with family. Or I can be the asshole who says hey guys sorry I’m cutting I can’t eat that. That should go over well.

Second, when we met my aunt and cousin at the airport, the first thing my 17 year old cousin said to me was, “You’re soooo short.”

I said, “I don’t know what you want from me.” Then we talked about our favorite anime and her favorite games. For the record – my cousin’s a lot cooler than I or my sister was in high school. My sister hung out with a bunch of Asian kids. The ones with fobby accents. I was in JROTC for three years. I did the PT team, the color guard for at least three football games, and spun rifles for all three years. Go ahead? No really, let’s hear it. Looks like you have something to say. I’d love to hear it. My cousin plays video games and has a lot of friends. I had, like, three.

I went to all three JROTC banquets as well. Crushed on my first emo chick. Her name was Jaidon. She drew anime and listened to punk rock. She wore a lot of eyeliner and I thought she was real cute. Got her number. Called her a few times, the conversations were awful. I forgot how it ended. I think I just stopped calling her because the anxiety was too overwhelming. I’ve never talked to a therapist.

Anyways, lastly, my uncle recommends that I marry a Korean girl who goes to church. If you haven’t noticed, this is a fucking trend. He was not impressed with the fact that I don’t go to church and advised me that if I meet a nice girl and intend on dating her, I shouldn’t tell her that I’m not religious, and he went on to further advise me that in NO CIRCUMSTANCES should I try to persuade her that there was no greater spiritual being.

“What if she’s not religious either,” I ask, “Is it OK then? Is it OK if we both don’t believe in a higher power?”

“No,” he says, “That’s not OK.”

Granted that’s taken out of context, he was just telling me that a girl raised with Christian values would be better prepared to be part of a family support system and child-rearing.

Look guys – I’m just the guy doing lateral dumbbell raises in the mirror when he’s done doing oly lifts and squats or snatch-grip deads. This is beyond me. I have no commentary on this. I have no response to this. I’m just trying to figure out the best way to consume adequate amounts of protein this week while trying to avoid the exorbitant amount of carbs that comes with Korean cuisine. Any criticisms re: my failures as a 25 year-old, single male I’ll just have to fucking roll with. I just don’t have a defense. “Uh well you see this one time a bunch of chicks invited me out to a strip club and one offered to give me a lap dance irregardless of the presence or absence of an erection on my part but I chose to go home and mob that night instead.” I got nothing. DO IT COME ON KILL ME I’M RIGHT HERE KILL ME KILL ME NOW.

Well I’ll talk to you guys here in a little bit.

Does this post sound sad?

I need to make sure you guys are aware of this – I’ve linked two corgi-oriented sites recently. The one that I like the most is the one run by the owner of, she has her own tri-color corgi named Pudge and he is real cute and real ploofeh. She uses a lot of corgi-oriented words like “baroooo” which is apparently how corgis bark, “ploofeh” referring to how fluffy (or “floofeh”) a corgi’s coat is, and she uses herpderp to refer to a specific kind of corgi face (when their tongues are lolling out of their mouths). Pudge is real fucking cute. I spend a lot of time looking at his pictures.

I snatched up to 225lbs and c+jed 275lbs tonight, didn’t feel terribly strong. Managed to bench 250lbs for 5, 5, 5, 4 which is the best volume benching I’ve ever done, hopefully I’m good to take down 275lbs x 3 next week. High-bar squat 430lbs x 1 (attempted a second rep and got stapled), 405lbs for 4, 3.

I can’t reiterate enough how fucking good I feel benching when I’m keeping up with tacking-and-stretching my distal tris. It’s a fucking world of difference. When I keep up my basic routine and do the soft tissue work after particularly nasty workouts (like I will do it again tomorrow since I benched a lot tonight), I’m just a lot more fluid and I feel so much stronger driving off my chest and through the middle.

Same thing for squats and rolling out my glutes and high hammies. The sensation is completely different, I can keep my knees out better and it feels like so much more musculature is being utilized as I come out of the hole.

Tom asks:

Hey Brent, any issues with doing several mobs every day? Is there an over training (you know what I mean) equivalent for mobbing?

Not that I’m aware of. Doing some mobs pre-workout can make you feel too loose i.e. high hammy flossing or hip joint approximation seems to hurt my squats and oly lifts. But it’s when I don’t keep up with a regular routine that I feel shitty and can’t hit positions well and lose a lot of capacity for force production.

One of the doctors I work with likes to counsel me about girls a lot, or tries to play Cupid. When VPVG was at my clinic more often, I got a lot of counseling from him.

“Look, you just don’t have any game. You know, I watch you interact with her, I see how you guys talk, and you’re just too friendly. You’re too nice. Girls don’t like that. You need to make strong moves. You can’t leave anything in question. You just gotta say, ‘look, you’re hot. We should go out, you know? Let’s go out. Let’s have dinner. Are we gonna do this or what?’ And she’s seeing a guy long-distance, so what? When the cat’s away, the mice will play. That’s a saying. Oh, here she comes.”

“I know you’re talking about me,” she would then say as she walked between us to the front desk.

I’m supposed to be Allie’s Secret Santa at work. Allie’s a pretty cool chick – I am NOT her work husband. We are just two coworkers who talk about stuff together. She likes me because one time we had the following conversation:

Brent: “What’d you do this weekend?
Allie: “I went to a party.”
Brent: “Did you get yucky?”
Allie: “I got really yucky. My ex was there too and I made him cry.”
Brent: “I need to know this story.”

So she told me the story, her ex was at the party and said “hey we should get back together, you’re so hot tonight,” and she said “NO! You were awful to me and I would never give you another chance!” Then he text her for the rest of the night and cried. I loved this story. Anything to remind me that my misery is not unique, that there may be things wrong with me but there is something wrong with everyone, and really we are all just so many lonely people, getting yucky, crying at parties, grinding out PR squats, going to bed hurting and damaged, having faith in the idea of a vague tomorrow that might be just a little better.

Anyways, I know I am not Allie’s work husband and just a mutual friend because she jokes with me about my girlfriends, which I don’t have. When I called VPVG or vice versa on occasion for whatever reason on the clinic phones, she’d make jokes about “my little Asian girlfriend.” To which I’d have to respond “I wouldn’t say that, she doesn’t take me very seriously.” And Allie would be all encouraging saying funny stuff like “oh she just doesn’t know she loves you yet,” if only she knew who she was talking to.

I also know I am not her work husband because of this conversation that took place between the doctor and her:

Doctor: “So are you single?”
Allie: “Yeah. My life is over. I’m twenty-four, I’m supposed to be married right now. I should be thinking about kids. But I’m still in school. I live with my parents. I’m single. My life is over.”
Doctor: “Well tell me about what kind of guys you like. You know, I’m actually a very good matchmaker. I have a very high – the couples that I match have a very high success rate. I have a 100% success rate.”
Some Other Coworker: “What about Brent?”
Doctor (waving me off): “He’s a lost cause. He’s a failure. His inability to close deals has no reflection on my abilities to match couples. So what are you looking for in a guy?”
Allie: “Well I like a guy who is tall and athletic. Like he has to be *this tall.* And he has to have a job. He has to be smart, and he has to be funny.”
Doctor (pointing to me now): “Well what about him? He’s athletic. You know, he lifts weights or whatever. He’s – well I won’t say that he’s smart, but with the right ADD meds – ”
Allie: “… well he has to be *this tall* so …”

I wasn’t sitting ten feet away filing papers or anything while this discussion took place it’s fine. Inadequacy is a familiar feeling. You could say it’s one of my closest friends. The unconditional love and companionship of a corgi is looking real pleasant right about now.

No but really it’s fine. Allie’s cool and nice. I asked people what to get her and they said she really likes Twizzlers and Dr. Pepper so this’ll be easy. I’m probably going to get something I’m not going to use, like a protein powder from Walmart. It’s fine.

Joe writes:

Hey Brent, weirdest thin JUST happened. I was in a crowded Room with you and Justin for some reason and you two were wearing tank tops. Then you two were laughing really hard at some chick and I woke up. I don’t recall everything that happened but it made me wake up and I had to tell you. It’s fine. Ok that’s all. Stay safe.


tiny asks:

Brent, Hypothetical question, if you could be any animal, what would it be? No explanation please.

Duck-billed platypus.

Matt writes:

Why won’t you respond to my facebook friend request? Either way it’s fine…. please respond

I have like 20+ friend requests pending right now and they are pending because I don’t know who the FUCK these people are. Which Matt are you? I have like 3.

Pete writes:


brb sending me pictures of your poop, asking me who my favorite US president is, and not speaking fucking English then getting mad that I don’t text you back. Congrats on your house man. Great job with your training. Keep us updated with your pics and vids. Wanna see how freakin thick solid and tight you can get. Good luck with your bodybuilding and homeowner goals in 2012.

I’ve forgotten her touch.

On Monday I pressed 165lbs x 5, 5, 3, 4. Which, while stupid, is still a volume PR. The first two sets were surprisingly easy, I think I was just pressing out in front of me on the third set.

Front squat 365lbs x 2, 2, which would have been better if I took this weight for a triple. I think it's doable right now, just not immediately after volume pressing.

Some negligible ring dips, I was essentially super-setting my warm ups for this in-between the front squats and then immediate attempted +90lbs x 3 after racking the bar for front squats. I got one rep. Died on the second.

Today I snatched up to 235lbs and cleaned up to 295lbs. It's pretty OK that I'm capable of cleaning 295lbs regularly, it would just be nice if I could stop being a talentless athlete and actually jerk it. I worked on my hip internal rotation to make my split better, which helped a little for a few reps, but I think I also need to focus a little more on hip extension in the couch stretch to get a better split – I caught 295lbs with arms locked-out but with too much lumbar extension and ribcage tilt and dumped it behind. If I can improve hip extension for the back leg I can split with a more neutral spine and hopefully be a more successful jerker.

Last night I did some tack-and-stretch on my distal hams, which was uncomfortable but not as terrible as suprapatellar pouch or distal triceps were when I first did them. My distal hams have been tight for a long time so I'm not sure why I haven't done this before; felt a lot easier to wind up into my snatch and clean start positions and it felt like more musculature was being used as far as hamstrings when I pulled off the floor. They're still pretty grody so I'll prob hit them a few more times and see what I can clear up.

Before I started my clinicals for the x-ray program, I had to buy scrubs. At the medical uniform/supply store in Wichita Falls (did I say that correctly? “Medical uniform” does that mean a store where you get scrubs or a fetish outlet where you get gyno tools that aren’t necessarily for ob/gyn offices? I don’t know anymore. Everything’s a fetish to me now. Show me your feet.) there was this real cute girl working who legit was one of the prettiest girls I’d ever seen. I used to know her name but the part of my heart that knew died with my memory of her. She was a brunette with dark brown eyes and a warm smile.

She showed me which ones I needed, was all helpful and patient and even waited for me to try on a pair and nodded her head in approval because they fit me. Her hand touched my back as she asked me to turn and I felt my heart beat in staccato, pounding out a love poem in Morse code. Let me be lost in your embrace always and if I forget your touch let me feel the lack.

The scrubs were on back-order so I’d have to come back later when another shipment came in to pick them up.

So I come back the next week and I legit sit in my car outside the store for like, fucking at least five minutes, psyching myself up, visualizing how I’m going to walk in like I own a fucking pair of functioning testicles for once and say, “Hey man, I think you’re real cute, you wanna hang out?” I may or may not have had to turn the car back on, leave, and come back after a few minutes because the adrenaline was making me sick. You can choose whether to believe I actually did or not, I don’t care enough to convince you either way.

So I finally say to myself “SHE’S A FUCKING TWENTY YEAR-OLD GIRL, YOU’VE DONE WORKOUTS HARDER THAN TALKING TO HER” as my final motivational thought and get out of the car, I inhale like I’m about to start the descent on a 1rm squat and open the door and swagger into the store, I had done some heavy deads the day before so I was feeling real fucking jacked –

– and I see an older guy at the counter and he’s pretty grumpy looking and doesn’t look particularly happy to see me. I see the brunette girl, though, and she is as wonderful as I remember her. She greets me by name again. The old man’s frown deepens when I smile and say hi back. I think to myself, oh shit is that her dad? How am I gonna get this chick’s digits if her dad’s watching? The LZ is too hot I REPEAT THE LZ IS TOO HOT DO NOT INSERT YOU ARE NOT CLEAR TO ENGAGE. She hands me the scrubs wrapped in dry, plastic wrap and our fingers touch.

“Have a good day good luck with your semester!” she says.

I say, “Okayseeyabye” and the door closes behind me.

Jamesinottawa asks:

Brent, are those Tai Chi shoes you’re wearing in the pic?

Yes. I was looking for flat-soled shoes with no arch support and I thought they looked cool. They are probably the best shoes I’ve ever worn. A lot of people make fun of them, including a doctor at work who just shook his head and said “typical” when I first wore them in the clinic. Chris always says “Nice Asics.” Patients ask me if I’m wearing wrestling shoes. I want to say, why the fuck are you looking at my feet anyways you freak. It’s fine.

karibot writes:

Brent. Lurker here. But I have to interrupt this siempresolo.jpg moment to tell you that some girls — cool girls — actually like sensitive dudes. A sensitive yet mega-jacked dude is an especially powerful combination. And honestly? Honestly? HONESTLY? Some of those girls ACTUALLY WANT to sleep with their sensitive dude friends. Especially if they are mega-jacked. Figure out how to use this to your advantage (a definite alpha move), and you won’t need the Lascek sweat cologne.

It’s fine. I’ll just get a ploofeh tri-color corgi and dress him up in bow-ties and glasses. That’ll feel like companionship.

Broseph writes:

This blog is boring as fuck…
I’m not even going to troll it anymore.
You’re a really average Asian guy that spends all of his time working out, talking about working out and/or associating with people that are involved in the fitness industry/are obsessed with working out…
This shit gets old.

I’m legit surprised people read it, and I’m even more surprised that my readership is growing.

Hey guys. You guys are great people and you’re gonna do great. Thick solid tight good luck with your powerlifting goals in 2011.

I’m just here at work. Just doing my thing. Minding my own business. I bring a chart back up to the front desk after I’m done with it, and, as is typical, struggle to place it into the rack without the pages getting crumpled. BRB motor coordination of a psuedopod amoeba.

Chick sees me not succeeding and takes the chart for me. “You know,” she says, “it’s already in order so you COULD just scan it. If you wanted.”

“That’s fine.”

So I bring another chart back up the front. I’m about to place it in the rack again but remember, oh yeah these are already in order, I guess I’ll just scan them. So I start doing that, and the other front desk girl says –

“You’re going to make him feel bad, he’s sensitive. He’s so nice.”

Girl 1 (looking at me with an eye brow raised): “Are you sensitive, Brent?”

Brent (desperately trying to stop what’s about to happen): “I wouldn’t say that.”

Girl 2: “Whatever! You know you’re nice.”

Girl 1 (after chuckling): “Brent’s a nice guy.”

I wasn’t even trying to flirt with these girls. Their assessment is automatic. They can smell it on me. I wear my vulnerability like a name tag. Hi My Name Is: Brent. I Am: Sensitive, Beta, And A Virgin. If you need me, I’ll be the guy sitting in the dark at his computer, typing in his blog. Resigned to his fucking fate.

Friday I did clean pulls and reverse hypers. Saturday I did weighted chins, +85lbs x 3, then 3×5 barbell rows, then some barbell curls and lateral delt raises. I felt moderately pumped. I’ve had better.

Chris and Mike did a meet at Authentic Strength on Saturday as well. They took conservative attempts but still made multiple PRs. Mike avenged a PR squat that was red-lighted at Raw Nationals as well as everything else for bench, DL, and total PRs. Chris PRed his bench, dead, and total for sure – I want to say he PRed his squat on the 2nd attempt too but am not sure. They did great though, I’m happy for and proud of them. I would try to narrate the interaction between us but it’s not going to fucking make sense to anyone but us, Justin, and AC so I won’t bother.

I met some other peeps too. Met a guy named Marcus from the CF gym I used to train at who did pretty great for his first meet, my favorite lift by him was an aggressive third attempt deadlift that he got real fucking pumped for. He let me and in fact ENCOURAGED me to slap his traps which was lol, I got a lot out of that.

I met Melody, who reads this blog. Hi Melody.

Cristina and the other folks with Just Lift also lifted at a meet this past Saturday. I spent most of my Friday night texting her friend Andrew about what he was wearing, training, and high-bar vs. low-bar squats while they drove. To reiterate that – I spent most of my Friday night texting a fucking guy. It’s fine. Hi Andrew. How is your day? Let me know how your training goes tonight.

freak writes:

I hope you never get a girlfriend just so I can continue reading posts like this.


Alex writes:

Mixed sex friendships don’t work. []
I’ve known many guys like this in the past and it was never the case that the girl wanted to sleep with them. She enjoys the control and the fact that you do want to sleep with her and knowing that you’ll always be there and listen to her bullshit because of it.
I view it more as she doesn’t give a fuck what your opinion of her is and so she’ll tell you anything. The people who’s opinion she does care about (her boyfriend) she won’t tell for fear of it going down.

I could have cried less over this, thanks though.

criedthefox writes:

I am 26 years old, unemployed, and live with my parents. I’m one head of hair away from being George Costanza (not sure if Asians watch Seinfeld). I’m of course single…and I’m pursuing an undergraduate degree in which i’m surrounded by FUCKING 18-21 year old SMOKE SHOWS all day. I got up the nerve to befriend ONE of these smoke shows, only to have her lead me on, invite me out with her friends and then say “oh that guy over there is this guy i’ve kind of been hanging with lately” to which 10 minutes later she started making out with him 6 inches from my fucking stance. I’ve been “that friend” to every girl I’ve ever known. One girl even told me once “i can’t date you because I’d want to marry you and we can’t get married because we don’t believe in the same God”. FUCK dude. I get you. I should probably be killing myself.

I got a couple stories like that. Don’t take it personal. Keep love in your heart. It gets better. You get stronger. Then you start a blog and a surprising number of people will read and enjoy it. It won’t take away the loneliness but you will feel a little better.

See the following: Jon North on

See also: this thread.

Saul feels that men and women can’t be friends.

Hey guys, story of my life here, used to work with this chick:

Have you guys heard of the concept of a “work spouse?” This is me. Girls love talking to me. I am the guy at work that girls who are in relationships are or otherwise unavailable will have close friendships with. I was at a fucking different clinic LAST WEEK, the first time I’d been back at that clinic in like almost a year, this chick who is at that clinic who I HAVEN’T SEEN OR SPOKEN TO FOR MONTHS, this chick comes over when it’s close to the end of the night and it’s slow and tells me about her Thanksgiving and her drama with her boyfriend’s family. Oh no I’m fine thanks for asking but go ahead tell me about your troubles. Just call me Dr. Shoulder. It’s fine. I do this for a fucking living.

I’m currently someone’s work spouse already. The last time I got a haircut, I walked into work. She was all cooing over it. Patrick Stroup, you know who I am talking about because you keep telling me to bang her. This chick is always squeezing my meager biceps (as in she was doing that today) and is like “mmm.” She was cleaning something with an alcohol swab one time. Rubbed it on my arm, she said, “Feel how wet that is? That’s how wet you make my vajayjay.” She tells me she loves me, multiple times a day, but IT’S NOT FUCKING REAL, BECAUSE SHE LIVES WITH HER BOYFRIEND. THERE HAVE BEEN TIMES WHEN I’VE BEEN MULTIPLE GIRLS’S WORK SPOUSE. AM I FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW???? AM I JUST MAKING SHIT UP????? ARE YOU READING THIS CORRECTLY????? YES. YOU ARE. I CAN’T FABRICATE THIS SHIT. THIS IS MY LIFE FOLKS. THIS IS BRENT KIM 24/7 365 “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, BUT DON’T TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY BECAUSE TONIGHT I’LL BE SNUGGLING WITH MY BOYFRIEND OR HUSBAND WHO I LOVE WITH ALL MY HEART. I JUST LOVE YOU WITH THE IMAGINARY ONE.” IF THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR YOU DON’T FUCKING SWEAT IT, YOU CAN TAKE A BREAK, I’LL TAKE OVER FROM HERE. BEEN DOING THIS FOR YEARS, IT’S FINE.

Post thoughts to comments.

Re: “off the shoulder shirt,” let me just set the record straight. This other chick who I used to work with had a few tops she wore that bared one or both shoulders and I commented like, TWICE, at the most, and it wasn’t even, “Hey man I like your delts,” it was just, “You seem to like those kinds of shirts.” So ever since then their joke has been that I have a fetish for bare shoulders. It’s fine. I’ve been accused of jerking off to worse.

Benched 275lbs x 2 paused. Internally-rotated, hyper-kyphotic high school football players bench this for 10. It’s fine.

Snatched up to 235lbs, which in addition to me having to chase it substantially, would have been red-lighted in competition because I chose to dump it behind. C+jed 265lbs, missed a 285lbs and then a 295lbs clean. It’s fine.

The best part of the workout was gutting out a 425lbs x 3 high-bar squat. I wasn’t in the rack because Saul was going to do reverse-band deadlifts, and I figured I’d just have side spotters but of course everyone else in the gym left as soon as I was ready for my workset, and while there was a trainer there, he was with a client. So I said “I guess I just won’t miss” and then squatted it twice, considered quitting but knew I would be fairly unhappy if I did not take a triple so went for the 3rd and ground it out with some wavy knees. It was a mild success but had the potential to be pretty embarrassing. 425lbs x 3 was my baseline low-bar triple back when I was a shittier, more inflamed, less mobile athlete (my best low-bar triple is 440lbs, which is going to be irrelevant when I do that high-bar weighing like 15-17lbs less).

Finished up with +90lbs x 2 weighted ring-dips – with acceptable depth this time – and doubled 405lbs for a back-off on the squats.

Phil B writes:

How does this make you feel?

Holy fuck that is good.

Paul says:

I am internally rotated frequently. I am a gordon fuck. I could be more impressed with myself.

Make a better decision.

Ksik10 writes:

When you’re doing ring dips, do you ever get any pain in the anterior shoulder? It never happened when I did bar dips, and I’m trying to figure out what might be different wrt mechanics. It seems that the pain gets worse whenever I try to move into external rotation on the rings. I dunno.

I did when my shoulders were inflamed and I had poor mobility, but my shit hurt when I did it on the bars, too, or even when I benched, pressed, or snatched, so I dunno what your deal is either. If you’re not doing mwod already, it is something you could try though ……….

Curt1s asks:

Ring dips and ring pushups: fewer reps are possible. Does this mean they are more of a strength stimulus? Or not, because the actual weight involved is the same as bar dips and floor(?) pushups?

I would think that more weight could be done on the bar. I do the rings because I’m supposed to be practicing more ring skills. I am too busy not c+jing 300lbs though.

lone ranger writes:

okay now lets take it easy on franky…i know the guy has some screws loose in his head but HE COULD HAVE BEEN A PRETTY DECENT WEIGHTLIFTER. he never really trained for oly lifting, he was more of a sprinting/jumping being an asshole in the gym type. but he did post a 40 inch vertical and truthfully thats about as high as most elite weightlifters go in the verts…

Frank Yang doesn’t know the meaning of lumbar OR thoracic extension.