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Weighted Vest Fag.

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"Accepting the gift honors the giver."
Saltheart Foamfollower




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definately the most entertaining thread ive read on elite..

keep us updated
 
Scotsman said:
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.

Cheers,
Scotsman


Aye, laddie, aye.
 
Oh how the lord has bestowed upon me a future so filled with promise, so overflowing is my cup that I can do naught but raise my hands on high and sing the praises of the king of kings.

I will tread lightly until the appointed hour, stirring neither man nor beast from childs slumber, then with a wave of my hand will I unleash a conflagration so cruel, so malevolent, that the very foundations of all that men hold true will crumble as I pass. The maelstrom I conjur from beyond the voices of hope or reason will lay low the mighty pillars and split the pages from time immemorial in the shattered glass of rolling brimstone.

Beware the Smoove, crusher of hopes, render of worlds.







Yes, it has finally come to pass that The Vest has accepted my gift of a wee training session at the gym.




Tomorrow.





It's leg day.



A hush falls over the eastern front....
 
wait this thread isnt still going is it?

regardless if anyone hasnt read this thread you got to give it a shot!!!
 
Why isn't this on the best of elite yet? The image of a metrofag confusedly staring in awe at the koran and box cutter in his hartman carry-on as he's hauled off by patriot act goons . . . Having to be signaled to answer his phone . . . The shakes, the hair flip, the vest . . . THE HORROR ... THE HORROR ...
 
they could also be far less visible. The coat of mail we wear when we fight a sword duel in my frat is fucking heavy and would probably not be seen under clothing in winter.
 
It is done.

I must wait to see his DOMS Ridgid Catatonia tomorrow before I update... I might not be able to wait.
 
onerepmaximum said:
When I was in the Marine Corps, I used to run with a flak jacket on. I liked it. Seems kind of strange to walk around the office like that. Maybe he is burning a few more calories a day by carrying it around, but I'm not sure it is worth how stupid he must look.

Same here. I also used to have a weighted vest I would use for running. It went up to 30 lbs.

Wearing one all day is totally geigh though. So is replying to a post that is almost 4 years old. :worried:
 
hahaha holy shit that was fucking funny as all hell!

I'm sad as shit that it didn't get updated though!!

I really wanted to hear about what happened after the leg workout, hahahaha!!

oh maaan..
 
RottenWillow said:
I still talk to CW occasionally. I'll ask him if you peeps still want to hear what happened.

Oh man he's so hilarious, you have to ask him I've read this entire thing and I'm still dying to know what happened!
 
funny shit... another world away, no?
 
He is showing off for some odd reason. I say kill him.

I used one when I was qualifying to fight wildland fires. I had to get a red card and I used that vest to train and test with. It helped a lot but I noticed if I used it more than 2 or 3 times a week my back and knees would start to hurt but mine was 45 lbs so thats why.
 
How solemn the meloncholy that rushes down from the ruined plain as I step from the guNwales of our launch... shattered earth percusses under each footfall as I gather both wit and sidearm for the trek ahead.

I return. Memory of battles bloody, brothers in arms, forth into the fray to a field not of our own choosing; we scuttled all hopes of return from the land's last hope.... yet return we did. At least I alone.

Working my way up the path of splintered mighty oak, blackened pines and scorched shale the going is dark, each breath-draw laced sweetly burning with what has passed. No thing dares grow here, yet in the periphery movement is hidden behind every purchase. Waning light plays tricks it has been waiting to gift to the unfortunate foolish enough to approach the cave. Depth beyond grasp, does the sheer magnitude of the evil therein devour light as well as soul fire?

At the very edge of these shattered hills the lair's mouth gapes, a lone memorial lays disturbed. White molten terror grips the tendons of my neck as the raging scream that vomits forth escapes in silent horror, my knees torn open on the shist as I raise my buring eyes to where heaven rumored.. the lid is broken, the seals rent from their seat, all the rumor and hush of every dark place has come to pass...

The Vest lives?!... hope is gone.


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