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Victorian guy
New member
Gentlemen,
I was insulted the other day at the gym. I train with an intensity that only few can understand. I was doing a set of front standing barbell presses, screaming as I forced out each rep using an unbelievable 350 pounds. After my last set, I simply let the bar drop to the floor, with a thunderous crash that shook the building. My training assistant, and personal chauffeur, Nobby, was on hand for my forced reps.
A man approached us...and DARED speak to me while I was mentally preparing for my next brutal set. "Excuse me...could you please make a little less noise?" he asked, in a most sarcastic tone. Nobby, who comes from the toughest slums of London, and who has spent years in the roughest prisons in Britain, advanced and brandished the 3 foot long piece of motorcycle chain he carries about with him for personal security. Standing in the man's face, he snarled, in a heavy Cockney accent "Piss off, or I'll fookin kill ye". The man went to the front desk and complained.
He had just signed his own death warrant!
Nobby and I followed him out as he left the gym, and as he saw us following him he began running towards his car, jumped in, started it up and tried to escape. As the car drove by, heading for the parking lot entrance, Nobby swung his bike chain, shattering the front window. I leaped onto the hood, reached in, dragged the man out, threw him to the pavement and put the boots to him while Nobby whaled on him with the chain. As the sound of police sirens neared, we fled, got into the Rolls Royce, and sped off, laughing.
I really can't stand folk who don't appreciate INTENSITY in the gym.
Take bloody fucking charge, lads!
I was insulted the other day at the gym. I train with an intensity that only few can understand. I was doing a set of front standing barbell presses, screaming as I forced out each rep using an unbelievable 350 pounds. After my last set, I simply let the bar drop to the floor, with a thunderous crash that shook the building. My training assistant, and personal chauffeur, Nobby, was on hand for my forced reps.
A man approached us...and DARED speak to me while I was mentally preparing for my next brutal set. "Excuse me...could you please make a little less noise?" he asked, in a most sarcastic tone. Nobby, who comes from the toughest slums of London, and who has spent years in the roughest prisons in Britain, advanced and brandished the 3 foot long piece of motorcycle chain he carries about with him for personal security. Standing in the man's face, he snarled, in a heavy Cockney accent "Piss off, or I'll fookin kill ye". The man went to the front desk and complained.
He had just signed his own death warrant!
Nobby and I followed him out as he left the gym, and as he saw us following him he began running towards his car, jumped in, started it up and tried to escape. As the car drove by, heading for the parking lot entrance, Nobby swung his bike chain, shattering the front window. I leaped onto the hood, reached in, dragged the man out, threw him to the pavement and put the boots to him while Nobby whaled on him with the chain. As the sound of police sirens neared, we fled, got into the Rolls Royce, and sped off, laughing.
I really can't stand folk who don't appreciate INTENSITY in the gym.
Take bloody fucking charge, lads!
