Getbig Bodybuilding, Figure and Fitness Forums
Getbig Main Boards => Gossip & Opinions => Topic started by: Blockhead on March 26, 2008, 10:10:17 AM
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Last Saturday night. 3-22-08. 11:34pm. Central. I was leaving the Palmer Place in LaGrange, IL with more than enough JB on the rocks in me to make me a little 'wobbly' behind the wheel. Doing my absolute best to drive safe, slow and straight with my hands on 10 and 2, seat-belt strapped over me I got on the I-55 N heading back to the city. Feeling brash and bold I had to get the the Damen Ave exit on the quicks because my favorite burrito joint closed at midnight so I stepped on the gas pedal a little more. Traveling 70mph into 55 feeling good about my timing while looking forward to a chicken burrito with extra meat, beans, letttuce, tomatoe, guacamole and white cheese it was all blown to hell when I saw flashing red/blue lights behind me.
Gottdamnit! This is the last thing I need. Not a fkn DUI on my record. I'm gonna get kicked out of school...I might have to sit in the fkn LOCK tonite, go to court, pay to have my car released from the impound. Just my fkn luck. Even worse...I won't get to have my burrito.
I quickly reminded myself that my car was clean and my days of 'holding' were over. In Chicago you have to roll your window down and stick both hands out the window as soon as you are ordered to put them back on the wheel in visible sight by the attending officer/trooper. His stern and stalwar voice said...
"I got you going 70 into 55...give me your license and proof of insurance. Have you been drinking? "
" No, sir. I have not..."
"You wreek of alcohol...can you step out of the car for me? "
Reminding myself of my rights to refusal and consent everything seemed hazy...do I have a right to say NO? Can I refuse to take any sobriety tests? Shit...what did Special Ed say about never letting an officer make you believe...damnit! I am too fked up to remember...
It was right then and there that both of our phones chirped with a familiar alarm letting us know our TEXT MESSAGES had 1 new in our inbox. The officer checked his phone and as I watched his frown turn upside down he said..."Well, I'll be! Jay Cutler is selling his beamer on EBay!" With permission I checked mine..."Whoa...mine says that Phil Heath might sign with MD! " Out of mild disbeliefe we traded phones to look at our text-messages. It was right there when the officer said to me...
"Son? I think you were well within the speed limit and I don't smell anything on your breath. Where are you headed? "
I told him..."Inos to get a burrito grande! They close in 15 minutes..."
"INOS! Well that's the perfect meal after a night of drinking. Hell, son...follow me I'm gonna give you a police escort and by, golly...we'll get you that burrito! "
I made it there in time to get my burrito and the officer was kind enough to give me a safe escort home.
Thanks, Musclephone!
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fcuk it, I'm gonna sign on for Muscle phone
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MusclePhone saved my life.
A few weeks ago me and my bros had just finished a brutal workout. After finishing our 40 egg whites, 5 cups of rice and 8 bags of carrots as to not miss the "anabolic window" we were on our way. Already pumped and oiled from our workout session we decided to hit up the local GNC for some supps and hit up some fitness sluts.
We hopped into our rascal scooters (we had just trained legs and had to let them recover) and were flying down the sidewalk at 5 mph. Out of nowhere a group of muscle bros dressed in v-tops, otomix shoes, American flag pants and a fanny pack came out of an alley. Thinking that they were fellow warriors of the steel, we reached out our calloused hands in a show of solidarity with the iron.
One of them pulled a gun out of their BSN ankle holster and yelled "Who the hell won the New Zealand Pro?". My mind racing, and sweat soaking my bandanna, I took a sip of water from my gallon jug of water.
Then out of the heavens came my Ronnie Coleman "light weight" ring tone. I feverishly took off my straps and flipped open the phone. There it was, the NZ pro results straight to my MusclePhone. Telling this guy the results, he was elated being a huge Dexter Jackson fan. We performed dips on the sidewalk until failure and proceeded to GNC with our gold cards in hand for some discount supps.
Thanks MusclePhone!
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fcuk it, I'm gonna sign on for Muscle phone
I suggest that you do so if you want to grab life by its balls and have the advantage. Having man without musclephone is like a solider without his gun...like a student without a book...like a doctor without a nurse...like a ho without a pimp.
I read a testimony the other day about a man in Southbend, Indiana who saved his family from a fire. True story! His smoke detectors didn't have batteries and his phone blew up with a text-message that read..." Gina Allioti just signed with BioTest. " He was able to get his family out just in the nik of time. He told Southbend reporters that he owes his life and give thanks to Musclephone.
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Lift OWNS your minds 8)
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real life stories from true american heros..........thanks steel warriors......i'm not getting musclephone though.........i'm living life on the edge
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I suggest that you do so if you want to grab life by its balls and have the advantage. Having man without musclephone is like a solider without his gun...like a student without a book...like a doctor without a nurse...like a ho without a pimp.
I read a testimony the other day about a man in Southbend, Indiana who saved his family from a fire. True story! His smoke detectors didn't have batteries and his phone blew up with a text-message that read..." Gina Allioti just signed with BioTest. " He was able to get his family out just in the nik of time. He told Southbend reporters that he owes his life and give thanks to Musclephone.
My life is in the balance, Godamnit. how do I get fingers on musclephone? My Hoes will have to approve of it first.
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Musclephone helped me beat colon cancer. I was in the middle of my radiation treatments when i recivied a text message telling me that Mad Max is hosting an NPC bodybuilding show and getting Jay Cutler to guest pose.
Miraculously the radiation machines all stopped on its own and doctors took a look at me and diagnosed me as 100% cured.
Thanks, Musclephone!
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Did I tell you what happened in school yesterday?
I was in the middle of my 'pathophysiology' exam. 100 questions. Need an 80% to PASS. I was stuck on question 53. it was a fill-in the blank kind of test. No 'multiple choice'. Anyway...knowing that I didn't want to leave the answer blank I had to put something in.
Right then and there my phone started vibrating informing me of a text-message. As I peeked it was my Musclephone. It said..."Rosa Maria-Romero is competing at the Pittsburgh Pro".
It was then I had an epiphany. I put 'Rosa-Maria Romero' as the answer for question #53. Turns out it was correct.
Thanks, Musclephone!
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True Story.
I was on Jeopardy! a year or so ago. Heading into final jeopardy i was trailing an Asian mathematician from Phoenix by two thousand dollars. I bet the house, but when the question came up my heart sank and I turned pale.
Who did the Denver Broncos select with the 11th pick in the 2006 NFL draft? I was stumped. Suddenly my MusclePhone buzzed with a text reading "Jay Cutler was spotted at 7-11 buying a slim jim and a comic book.. more to follow."
Thinking i had nothing to lose I wrote down "who is Jay Cutler" as my answer. Amazingly that was correct and i won the game and went on to become a 8 time Jeopardy champion.
Thanks MusclePhone!
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True Story.
I was on Jeopardy! a year or so ago. Heading into final jeopardy i was trailing an Asian mathematician from Phoenix by two thousand dollars. I bet the house, but when the question came up my heart sank and I turned pale.
Who did the Denver Broncos select with the 11th pick in the 2006 NFL draft? I was stumped. Suddenly my MusclePhone buzzed with a text reading "Jay Cutler was spotted at 7-11 buying a slim jim and a comic book.. more to follow."
Thinking i had nothing to lose I wrote down "who is Jay Cutler" as my answer. Amazingly that was correct and i won the game and went on to become a 8 time Jeopardy champion.
Thanks MusclePhone!
Oh, I remember that! That was you? I wondered why that guy was digging in his pocket looking at his phone. Cool.
Musclephone is so amazing that it existed in the past even before of it's invention in the future.
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Oh, I remember that! That was you? I wondered why that guy was digging in his pocket looking at his phone. Cool.
Musclephone is so amazing that it existed in the past even before of it's invention in the future.
haha yes, musclephone can break the space-time continuum.
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;D
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With Musclephone I can know who placed 15th in the King Kamali Classic while taking a dump.
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Can't wait to get my musclephone. I love ya'll testimonials :)
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I have this premature ejaculation problem that really plagues my sex life. After Monday night's show, I decided to hit Lot 61 in Manhattan to gauge the pulse of the New York celebrity scene and hear what the polloi thought of that night's Big Nation Radio episode.
During the course of the evening, I'm introduced to Tara Reid and learn that she's a big fan of the show. Anyway, long story short, I take her back to the Soho Grand for a nightcap and wind up getting her so shit-faced she thinks I'm Steve Buscemi and comes back to my room. I strip her down and am about a condom away from penetration when I feel myself "peaking" too soon. Shit! I try everything: I reach down and squeeze my base, I think of my grandmother, and even punch myself in the balls. No such luck. Then, just as I'm about to spunk on the sheets without telling her, I hear a familiar BUZZ. Yep! My Musclephone was trippin'. I grabbed it and learned that Silvio Samuel plans to compete in both the Regular and Under 202 class at this year's Olympia. I'm simultaneously mesmerized and flaccid by this incredibly important alert.
Suddenly, Tara's moans remind me of both why I'm here and why I always carry Roophies. I briefly envision Silvio striking a most muscular in BOTH weight classes and miraculously I'm ready to go again. Seeing how Tara is actually moaning from cardiac arrest and not excitement, I dispense with the condom and enter the loose and well-worn wizard sleeve of Tara's American Pie. The excitement of being with a dead celebrity indeed proves too much to hold back. I'm just nanoseconds away from the first artificial insemination of an unconscious Hollywood starlet when I hear it again. BUZZ. BUZZ.
Shit! It's too late. I've pathetically dripped my salvation into the thimble-sized cup known as Tara's belly button.
BUZZ. BUZZ. Suddenly it hits me like a Blechman hug with a boner: I realize it's too late for me but not too late for Tara! I whip out the travel-size Astroglide and lube up my Blackberry Pearl and shove it up Tara's anal stadium. I hear the continual buzzing and look for some kind of reaction on Tara's face. Nothing. I think of calling Mary-Kate Olson to clean up the mess but decide to give it one last chance. "Live! Live! LIVE!" I scream as I pound on her chest with what little I remember from 8th grade CPR training and 'The Abyss'. Nothing. My mind starts to wonder. I wonder what will happen to my car parked illegally on Hudson Street. And what's the name of the really good defense lawyer on MD and what the fuck is so important in bodybuilding at 4:30 a.m. that Tara's ass is still vibrating from incoming text messages.
I begin to cry when suddenly Tara's eyes flip wide open and she starts screaming, "Yes, yes, YES! I'm coming! Ohmyfuckinggod!" Never one to miss an opportunity, I leap back on top of her and fake a few meaningless thrusts so I can take credit for her multiple orgasms. Tara climaxes so loudly that I get a text message from Isaac in Denver telling me to keep it down. When I woke up the next morning Tara was gone, but I found a note she left me on the nightstand. It read:
Thanks Musclephone!
(http://cache.viewimages.com/xc/3426232.jpg?v=1&c=ViewImages&k=2&d=17A4AD9FDB9CF193B3EA2C03450C9486E70E225197BF954C5A5397277B4DC33E)
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I have this premature ejaculation problem that really plagues my sex life. After Monday night's show, I decided to hit Lot 61 in Manhattan to gauge the pulse of the New York celebrity scene and hear what the polloi thought of that night's Big Nation Radio episode.
During the course of the evening, I'm introduced to Tara Reid and learn that she's a big fan of the show. Anyway, long story short, I take her back to the Soho Grand for a nightcap and wind up getting her so shit-faced she thinks I'm Steve Buscemi and comes back to my room. I strip her down and am about a condom away from penetration when I feel myself "peaking" too soon. Shit! I try everything: I reach down and squeeze my base, I think of my grandmother, and even punch myself in the balls. No such luck. Then, just as I'm about to spunk on the sheets without telling her, I hear a familiar buzz. Yep! My Musclephone was trippin'. I grabbed it and learned that Silvio Samuel plans to compete in both the Regular and Under 202 class at this year's Olympia. I'm simultaneously mesmerized and flaccid by this incredibly important alert.
Suddenly, Tara's moans remind me of both why I'm here and why I always carry Roophies. I briefly envision Silvio striking a most muscular in BOTH weight classes and miraculously I'm ready to go again. Seeing how Tara is actually moaning from cardiac arrest and not excitement, I dispense with the condom and enter the loose and well-worn wizard sleeve of Tara's American Pie. The excitement of being with a dead celebrity indeed proves too much to hold back. I'm just nanoseconds away from the first artificial insemination of an unconscious Hollywood starlet when I hear it again. Buzz. Buzz.
Shit! It's too late. I've pathetically dripped my salvation into the thimble-sized cup known as Tara's belly button.
Buzz. Buzz. Suddenly it hits me like a Blechman hug with a boner: I realize it's too late for me but not to late for Tara. I whip out the travel-size Astroglide and lube up my Blackberry Pearl and shove it up Tara's anal stadium. I hear the continual buzzing and look for some kind of reaction on Tara's face. Nothing. I think of calling Mary-Kate Olson to clean up the mess but decide to give it one last chance. "Live! Live! LIVE!" I scream as I pound on her chest with what little I remember from 8th grade CPR training and 'The Abyss'. Nothing. My mind starts to wonder. I wonder what will happen to my car parked illegally on Hudson Street. And what's the name of the really good defense lawyer on MD and what the fuck is so important in bodybuilding at 4:30 a.m. that Tara's ass is still vibrating from incoming text messages.
I begin to cry when suddenly Tara's eyes flip wide open and she starts screaming, "Yes, yes, YES! I'm coming! Ohmyfuckinggod!" Never one to miss an opportunity, I leap back on top of her and fake a few meaningless thrusts so I can take credit for her multiple orgasms. Tara climaxes so loudly that I get a text message from Isaac in Denver telling me to keep it down. When I woke up the next morning Tara was gone, but I found a note she left me on the nightstand. It read:
Thanks Musclephone!
LMFAO!!!
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I haven't received a SINGLE musclephones text message.
-
I have this premature ejaculation problem that really plagues my sex life. After Monday night's show, I decided to hit Lot 61 in Manhattan to gauge the pulse of the New York celebrity scene and hear what the polloi thought of that night's Big Nation Radio episode.
During the course of the evening, I'm introduced to Tara Reid and learn that she's a big fan of the show. Anyway, long story short, I take her back to the Soho Grand for a nightcap and wind up getting her so shit-faced she thinks I'm Steve Buscemi and comes back to my room. I strip her down and am about a condom away from penetration when I feel myself "peaking" too soon. Shit! I try everything: I reach down and squeeze my base, I think of my grandmother, and even punch myself in the balls. No such luck. Then, just as I'm about to spunk on the sheets without telling her, I hear a familiar BUZZ. Yep! My Musclephone was trippin'. I grabbed it and learned that Silvio Samuel plans to compete in both the Regular and Under 202 class at this year's Olympia. I'm simultaneously mesmerized and flaccid by this incredibly important alert.
Suddenly, Tara's moans remind me of both why I'm here and why I always carry Roophies. I briefly envision Silvio striking a most muscular in BOTH weight classes and miraculously I'm ready to go again. Seeing how Tara is actually moaning from cardiac arrest and not excitement, I dispense with the condom and enter the loose and well-worn wizard sleeve of Tara's American Pie. The excitement of being with a dead celebrity indeed proves too much to hold back. I'm just nanoseconds away from the first artificial insemination of an unconscious Hollywood starlet when I hear it again. BUZZ. BUZZ.
Shit! It's too late. I've pathetically dripped my salvation into the thimble-sized cup known as Tara's belly button.
BUZZ. BUZZ. Suddenly it hits me like a Blechman hug with a boner: I realize it's too late for me but not too late for Tara! I whip out the travel-size Astroglide and lube up my Blackberry Pearl and shove it up Tara's anal stadium. I hear the continual buzzing and look for some kind of reaction on Tara's face. Nothing. I think of calling Mary-Kate Olson to clean up the mess but decide to give it one last chance. "Live! Live! LIVE!" I scream as I pound on her chest with what little I remember from 8th grade CPR training and 'The Abyss'. Nothing. My mind starts to wonder. I wonder what will happen to my car parked illegally on Hudson Street. And what's the name of the really good defense lawyer on MD and what the fuck is so important in bodybuilding at 4:30 a.m. that Tara's ass is still vibrating from incoming text messages.
I begin to cry when suddenly Tara's eyes flip wide open and she starts screaming, "Yes, yes, YES! I'm coming! Ohmyfuckinggod!" Never one to miss an opportunity, I leap back on top of her and fake a few meaningless thrusts so I can take credit for her multiple orgasms. Tara climaxes so loudly that I get a text message from Isaac in Denver telling me to keep it down. When I woke up the next morning Tara was gone, but I found a note she left me on the nightstand. It read:
Thanks Musclephone!
(http://cache.viewimages.com/xc/3426232.jpg?v=1&c=ViewImages&k=2&d=17A4AD9FDB9CF193B3EA2C03450C9486E70E225197BF954C5A5397277B4DC33E)
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Blockie, did you get my MusclePhone voicemail yesterday?
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true story!
after reading all these stories about muscle phone,i just had to sign on and find out... first i got a welcome message than couple of hours later i got another text! i was driving but i just had to read what it said.... as i'm reading about this 50,000 dollar contest this n that... CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i ended up rear ending some poor old lady driving a benzo.... F*CK me....
how can i cancel my muscle phone text???? i hate this shit!!! your bullshit useless message got me in an accident!!!
F*CK YOU MUSCLE PHONE!!!
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looooooooooooooooooool
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true story!
after reading all these stories about muscle phone,i just had to sign on and find out... first i got a welcome message than couple of hours later i got another text! i was driving but i just had to read what it said.... as i'm reading about this 50,000 dollar contest this n that... CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i ended up rear ending some poor old lady driving a benzo.... F*CK me....
how can i cancel my muscle phone text???? i hate this shit!!! your bullshit useless message got me in an accident!!!
F*CK YOU MUSCLE PHONE!!!
Uhhh, I hate to break it to you, but this is a little more than a "rear ender".
(http://vaughanwylie.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/05/mercedes.jpg)
Anyways, the old lady has signed a retainer for her "permanent injuries" and she just wanted to say one thing:
THANKS, MUSCLEPHONE!
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I haven't received a SINGLE musclephones text message.
how does one get these texts?
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how does one get these texts?
Just text 'MUSCLE' to LiftStudios and you're in!
Thanks MuscleSchmo!
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how does one get these texts?
you don't choose MuslePhone. MusclePhone chooses you.
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I have this premature ejaculation problem that really plagues my sex life. After Monday night's show, I decided to hit Lot 61 in Manhattan to gauge the pulse of the New York celebrity scene and hear what the polloi thought of that night's Big Nation Radio episode.
During the course of the evening, I'm introduced to Tara Reid and learn that she's a big fan of the show. Anyway, long story short, I take her back to the Soho Grand for a nightcap and wind up getting her so shit-faced she thinks I'm Steve Buscemi and comes back to my room. I strip her down and am about a condom away from penetration when I feel myself "peaking" too soon. Shit! I try everything: I reach down and squeeze my base, I think of my grandmother, and even punch myself in the balls. No such luck. Then, just as I'm about to spunk on the sheets without telling her, I hear a familiar BUZZ. Yep! My Musclephone was trippin'. I grabbed it and learned that Silvio Samuel plans to compete in both the Regular and Under 202 class at this year's Olympia. I'm simultaneously mesmerized and flaccid by this incredibly important alert.
Suddenly, Tara's moans remind me of both why I'm here and why I always carry Roophies. I briefly envision Silvio striking a most muscular in BOTH weight classes and miraculously I'm ready to go again. Seeing how Tara is actually moaning from cardiac arrest and not excitement, I dispense with the condom and enter the loose and well-worn wizard sleeve of Tara's American Pie. The excitement of being with a dead celebrity indeed proves too much to hold back. I'm just nanoseconds away from the first artificial insemination of an unconscious Hollywood starlet when I hear it again. BUZZ. BUZZ.
Shit! It's too late. I've pathetically dripped my salvation into the thimble-sized cup known as Tara's belly button.
BUZZ. BUZZ. Suddenly it hits me like a Blechman hug with a boner: I realize it's too late for me but not too late for Tara! I whip out the travel-size Astroglide and lube up my Blackberry Pearl and shove it up Tara's anal stadium. I hear the continual buzzing and look for some kind of reaction on Tara's face. Nothing. I think of calling Mary-Kate Olson to clean up the mess but decide to give it one last chance. "Live! Live! LIVE!" I scream as I pound on her chest with what little I remember from 8th grade CPR training and 'The Abyss'. Nothing. My mind starts to wonder. I wonder what will happen to my car parked illegally on Hudson Street. And what's the name of the really good defense lawyer on MD and what the fuck is so important in bodybuilding at 4:30 a.m. that Tara's ass is still vibrating from incoming text messages.
I begin to cry when suddenly Tara's eyes flip wide open and she starts screaming, "Yes, yes, YES! I'm coming! Ohmyfuckinggod!" Never one to miss an opportunity, I leap back on top of her and fake a few meaningless thrusts so I can take credit for her multiple orgasms. Tara climaxes so loudly that I get a text message from Isaac in Denver telling me to keep it down. When I woke up the next morning Tara was gone, but I found a note she left me on the nightstand. It read:
Thanks Musclephone!
(http://cache.viewimages.com/xc/3426232.jpg?v=1&c=ViewImages&k=2&d=17A4AD9FDB9CF193B3EA2C03450C9486E70E225197BF954C5A5397277B4DC33E)
You sir, are a fucking poet.
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You sir, are a fucking poet.
And I owe it all to Musclephone!
Musclephone: Bringing out the Comedian in all of Us!
Thanks Musclephone!
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Muscle Phone gave me a life!! Now I can leave the internet!
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MusclePhone > Life
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If loving my MusclePhone is wrong, I don't want to be right.
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Musclephone - 2008's joke du jour!
Brought to you by the same people who made the Jay Cutler fridge jokes in 2007!
Thanks Musclephone! ;D
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True Story....
About two weeks ago, my best friend Tommy was in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in New York City (BedStuy Brooklyn). Tommy being a well-mannered, young, Jewish man was obviously dabbling in the outskirts of the city within a predominantly black community composed mainly of drug dealers and all sorts of thugs. He had been riding into Brooklyn when his train had to make "skip stops" which left him waiting for an alternate train to go on his way. Little did Tommy know that waiting on the opposite side of that train station would lead him to the longest night of his life.
A few minutes into waiting, Tommy puts on his headphones and begins to enjoy the melodic tunes of Billy Joel. While adamantly singling along to the sounds of "My Life", suddenly Tommy notices that the station began to darken in appearance, sort of like a dark cloud approaching before the storm. While yelling out the final verse to that song, "Go Ahead and just leave me alone!!" he quickly does a half turn and realizes that he had just yelled out that phrase to a large group of negros covered in red bandanas. Tommy, not knowing what to do or what to say begins to nervously walk away.
They follow him, they corner him and just when Tommy was about to try and diffuse the situation with some words, he hears the violent sound of a gunshot. Moments later, as he laid on the floor, yarmulke spread out directly in front of his face, he started to feel cold, clammy, pulse racing and an overall feeling of faintness took over, but right before he could say goodbye to this world, he felt a sudden vibration coming from his mid-chest region. As if someone had defibrillated him, Tommy wasn't being brought back to life, but instead he was feeling the last vibration from his blackberry phone that was in his shirt pocket which spared him his life by taking the bullet. As he slowly makes his way off the ground, he pulls out the pieces of his blackberry phone to see what had caused the vibration, thinking it might have been the battery letting out its last breath of air, he suddenly notices that he had received the final results of this years Arnold Classic.
Musclephone brought back my friend, Musclephone saved his life...
Thank you Isaac,
"1"
Picture of Tommy the day after his attack, clearly questioning his faith..
(http://www.azstarnet.com/ss/2005/11/20/l103347-1.jpg)
Picture of Tommy 3 weeks after incident, resorting to carrying a large weapon due to his fear of another attack and quite happy after buying his new toy:
(http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/images/2007/06/01/sickledavidsilvermangetty.jpg)
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This thread has epic potential.
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It was a cold and gloomy night in Winter. I had just had a fight with the missus and was stuck at home all alone, feeling miserable. I had a terrible headache to boot.
Then I heard a sound. It was my MusclephoneTM beeping to tell me the latest news in the world of bodybuilding.
I quickly reached for it and screamed, "STFU you POS" and flung it violently at the wall whereupon it smashed into a million pieces.
I instantly felt better and even managed to crack a smile.
Thanks MusclePhoneTM
P.S: Next time, STFU and don't beep until I give you permission to >:(
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Picture of Tommy 3 weeks after incident, resorting to carrying a large weapon due to his fear of another attack and quite happy after buying his new toy:
(http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/images/2007/06/01/sickledavidsilvermangetty.jpg)
Good for him. The right to bear arms is a beautiful thing.
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A few weeks ago me and a couple of training partners decided to go skiing in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Looking forward to a day of fun in the snow, we gathered up our equipment and got on the lift and went to the top of the mountain.
Everything was going great until our Sherpa, Tensing decided to set off on his his own. Stranded alone on the mountain with only our Nitro Tech shakes and brown rice to hold us over, fear set in. Not wanting to lose any mass we decided to grab a tree branch and do some pullups. At that very moment an avalanche struck. Buried under 12 feet of snow and our lats fried from our primitive workout it looked like all hope was lost.
Freezing and hungry we could feel our bodies becoming catabolic. We prayed to the bodybuilding gods to save their cherubs of iron. Then with a strike of lightning our muscle phones began to vibrate simultaneously with such late breaking bodybuilding news that you won't find anywhere else such as "Gustavo Badell got a haircut" or "Mark Dugdale went clothes shopping today".
All this influx of bodybuilding news was enough to cause another avalanche, freeing us from our snowy graves. Freed, we proceeded down the mountain for some freshly brewed Nitro Tech hot chocolate and watching Battle for the Olympia 1998 on youtube. Knowing the only reason we survived was because of our trusty MusclePhone's.
Thanks MusclePhone!
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A few weeks ago me and a couple of training partners decided to go skiing in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Looking forward to a day of fun in the snow, we gathered up our equipment and got on the lift and went to the top of the mountain.
Everything was going great until our Sherpa, Tensing decided to set off on his his own. Stranded alone on the mountain with only our Nitro Tech shakes and brown rice to hold us over, fear set in. Not wanting to lose any mass we decided to grab a tree branch and do some pullups. At that very moment an avalanche struck. Buried under 12 feet of snow and our lats fried from our primitive workout it looked like all hope was lost.
Freezing and hungry we could feel our bodies becoming catabolic. We prayed to the bodybuilding gods to save their cherubs of iron. Then with a strike of lightning our muscle phones began to vibrate simultaneously with such late breaking bodybuilding news that you won't find anywhere else such as "Gustavo Badell got a haircut" or "Mark Dugdale went clothes shopping today".
All this influx of bodybuilding news was enough to cause another avalanche, freeing us from our snowy graves. Freed, we proceeded down the mountain for some freshly brewed Nitro Tech hot chocolate and watching Battle for the Olympia 1998 on youtube. Knowing the only reason we survived was because of our trusty MusclePhone's.
Thanks MusclePhone!
Do you always talk shit like this?
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Do you always talk shit like this?
hahah someone is upset.
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hahah someone is upset.
Well I wasn't before reading your butt-licking essay.
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Well I wasn't before reading your butt-licking essay.
translation- I jerk off furiously to The Cost of Redemption and sit by the phone waiting for a MusclePhone text.
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translation- I jerk off furiously to The Cost of Redemption and sit by the phone waiting for a MusclePhone text.
No, translation: your are just a dick. Period.
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I am a big fan of solo travel and really enjoy archaeological sites in Africa and South America. Which reminds me of something really incredible...
After flying back to Rio from Macchu Picchu, I saw a flier advertising a kayak eco-tour of the Amazon. I brought along all of the necessities for such a trip: Water, hunting knife, waterproof matches, musclephone, compass, and bug spray. Anyway, with the exception of the pygmies firing poison darts from blowguns, the trip was going great until I saw what appeared to be a black cloud moving in very low.
When I saw the pygmies running for their lives and screaming "!Buzos! !BUZOS! !!BUZOS!!" it dawned on me that perhaps this particular pygmy tribe was afraid of dark clouds ("Buzces" in Portuguese). That's when I noticed the cloud breaking into smaller 'clouds' and heard the cacophony of a million killer bees about to set upon me.
Sitting in my kayak with nowhere to go except for the Caiman-infested waters of the Amazon, I threw my arms up over my face and curled forward into the fetal position as the swarm blacked out the sun and overtook me.
Suddenly, amidst the orchestral buzzes of the killer bees, I heard a single, solitary higher-pitched 'BUZZ' that seemed out of place in this madness. Briefly looking up to try to find this "Blechman Bee", I immediately caught two insidious insects in my mouth, paralyzing my tongue and completely severing my oral ability to earn bodybuilding income. Then the funny 'BUZZ' again. I retrieved my exhausted musclephone from my supply bag and held it up to try to read the latest news about which 77-year old former bodybuilder would be this week's guest on PBW when I got stung on my hand and dropped musclephone onto my lap, buzzing away in musclephonian bliss. That's when it happened: Suddenly the bees all stopped buzzing!
It was almost as if they were waiting in anticipation for musclephone to "speak" to them. They began landing on my crotch, where musclephone had fallen, and invading my fumunda cheese-ridden undergarments. I could do nothing but wait and enjoy the curiously pleasurable feeling of having hundreds of bees tiptoeing around my anus.
At the one-minute interval, the bees were rewarded with another Musclephone BUZZ and I realized that they considered the musclephone to be their Queen Bee. I was torn about what to do next: Do I sit here covered with thousands of happy but deadly bees and start a new civilization with my musclephone and a steady supply of bodybuilding news sustenance or do I risk it all and throw my musclephone into the jungle and take my chances in a dangerous environment without Phil Heath updates?
I chose the latter and with my working hand, gently nuzzled the bees aside to grab and toss musclephone to the shore. As it landed amidst the jungle brush, I saw a scrawny pygmy boy with epic 8-inch arms pick it up and shout,"Thank you!" as he was mauled by the vicious swarm stinging every muscle of his swimmer's physique with thousands of tiny site injections of bee toxin.
"Help!" he screamed, but there was nothing I could do. He collapsed, Ronnie Coleman-style, to the ground.
Down river, I was saved by a nice pygymy couple named the Samuels who fixed me a protein shake while they waited for their son to return home. By dark, it was clear he wasn't coming home. "Oh my Savior", his mother cried. "Oh my Silvio", his father cried.
Epilogue
********
They say "In space no one can hear you scream", but in the Amazon jungles, you can always hear your Musclephone scream - and usually it's something gay like "Paco Bautista's legs are more Vascular than ever!"
Thanks Musclephone!
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I'm thinking about telling my conservative, God fearing parents this weekend that I use Musclephone. I'm pretty nervous. :-\
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""You wreek of alcohol..."
If I had a dollar for everytime I heard that in my life, I'd be richer than Paul Dillet!
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Strangely enough, my musclephone hasn't received anything in days..
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Just today I stopped a bank robbery in progress because standing in line my cell phone started to jingle with the familiar sound of my TEXT MESSAGE-notification. As I checked my MusclePhone I was elated to read the great news I shouted over to the armed robber..."Hey man...Dayana Cadeau and Kai Green are a couple now! "
The armed robber immediately dropped his gun, pulled off his mask to hurry and check out his Musclephone, giving Tood Jewell just enough time to overpower him and restrain him to the floor.
Thanks, Musclephone!
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Strangely enough, my musclephone hasn't received anything in days..
As it turns out, the most useful thing about MusclephoneTM is the entertaining jokes it generates on Getbig.
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Just today I stopped a bank robbery in progress because standing in line my cell phone started to jingle with the familiar sound of my TEXT MESSAGE-notification. As I checked my MusclePhone I was elated to read the great news I shouted over to the armed robber..."Hey man...Dayana Cadeau and Kai Green are a couple now! "
The armed robber immediately dropped his gun, pulled off his mask to hurry and check out his Musclephone, giving Tood Jewell just enough time to overpower him and restrain him to the floor.
Thanks, Musclephone!
Hey I am here to tell everyone that the "Kai and Dayna couple news" came at just the right time for me as well.
As the get big world now knows ( and hangs on every new tidbit of news), the ex-wfe and I are seeing eachother and doing quite well now as a couple. I was with her and had this incredible urge to have various citrus fruits used as sexual devices in our love making. She freaked out and was just about to walk out on me, for good this time.
Beep....there was the text, I open it and see that Kai and Dayna are a couple, and show it to my woman.
A big smile comes over her face and she asks me to pull over to the Kroger supermarket, goes in and comes out with a couple of big grapefruits. Thanks MusclePhone, you saved my relationship and added zing to my sex life. ;)
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Hey I am here to tell everyone that the "Kai and Dayna couple news" came at just the right time for me as well.
As the get big world now knows ( and hangs on every new tidbit of news), the ex-wfe and I are seeing eachother and doing quite well now as a couple. I was with her and had this incredible urge to have various citrus fruits used as sexual devices in our love making. She freaked out and was just about to walk out on me, for good this time.
Beep....there was the text, I open it and see that Kai and Dayna are a couple, and show it to my woman.
A big smile comes over her face and she asks me to pull over to the Kroger supermarket, goes in and comes out with a couple of big grapefruits. Thanks MusclePhone, you saved my relationship and added zing to my sex life. ;)
Holy shit everyone's got a spin on this one! ha ha ha! ;D
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Many people are constantly e-mailing or texting and it may be more of a problem than you think. With all the instant technology, it's easy to get addicted to your "crackberry" or phone. But researchers are saying it might be a mental illness for those people who send excessive texts and e-mails. For example, you sit at the computer all day, but as soon as you leave the office, you can't wait to log on to your home computer. Psychiatrists report this kind of addiction to instant messaging could be another form of mental illness.
Muscle Phone helped me kick my addiction and I can function again. I was mentally ill from all my time on get big but now thanks to muscle phone I know I can leave my computer.
thanks muscle phone
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I'm thinking about telling my conservative, God fearing parents this weekend that I use Musclephone. I'm pretty nervous. :-\
Here's something that may help.....whatever you tell them, make sure to stress the fact that you use Muscle Phone safely.
Safety is very important with parents.
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Musclephone told me the meaning of life, and that Jay was selling his car!!
My life is now complete 8)
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I was just about to sign the title over to my 2006 BMW 645 for what I thought was a fair price of $58,900 when my Musclephone alerted me to the fact that this vehicle's value greatly appreciates through the wear and tear of a bodybuilder. I hesitated to sign the title and the buyer asked me what was wrong. I told him that I won the Teen Class at the 1988 NPC Powers Classic and he immediately raised his offer to a more appropriate $58,950.
Without Musclephone, I would have been dumb enough to rely on Edmunds or KBB for a fair market evaluation.
Thanks Musclephone!!
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I'm elated to hear all the life changing stories.
Muscle Phone (http://MusclePhone.com)
Owning the minds of Getbiggers around the globe.
8)
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Hahaha. Epic attempt to pretend you're enjoying the mocking of Musclephone while simultaneously PMing, IMing and Emailing everyone to "cool it", "back off", and "cut it out, dick!"
Thanks for trying, Musclephone!
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in the bus on the way to the gym...no, i choose not to drive, it doesn't have that same HARCORE FEELING
as the bus...and i start feeling a bit bloated by my chicken and rice meal i just had a few stops back out of my plastic Tupperware which now sits in my gym bag on this bus ride.
As i grab my plastic water-gallon jug and try to ease it down and quench my thirst at the same time, i feel
the bubble-guts coming along, and it's clear now that i have to blow a giant fart.
I put down the water jug and start positioning my ass in a manner that would relieve me of the pressure but at the same time, make little to no noise, and not have anyone on the bus think it's me.
i tilt slightly to the left, prop my right ass cheek off the seat and just as i'm about the let the rotten-egg-scented fart escape, i feel a vibration in the pant pocket of my Zubaz neon green/black striped pants. i assume my original position and pick my phone out of my pocket and am amazed to read the news that: "JAY CUTLER SHOPS AT COSTCO 2x PER WEEK"
just as i smiled and put back the phone in my pocket, retaining the pearls of wisdom which it provided me with, a very attractive girl sat down beside me. She smiled at me, while looking at my striped neon green pants, and surely this smile was fueled by the amazement of the sheer size of my quads. Had i blown that massive fart, she might not have sat next to me, and witnessed my impressive quad size.
THANKS MUSCLEPHONE!
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I love my beagle-terrier mixed breed dog named 'Scraps'. We play 'Fetch' every evening, usually during the Getbig lull from 5-6pm EST. Anyway, it was a Friday afternoon and I'd finished my work, err I mean posts early and I'd already downed a few Jack and Cokes and I'm throwing an old Hackey-Sack down the road for Scraps to retrieve. As Scraps comes running back towards me, I feel a rather pleasant vibration in my Semen for all Mankind jeans. I remove my AfroAmericanBerry just as Scraps runs up my porch steps and drops the hackeysack. In my inebriated stupor, I pick up the hackeysack and hold it to my ear while throwing my Blackberry across the street.
Scraps, excited to fetch something that smells like balls, sprints across the street and picks up the phone, while I drunkenly stare at the HackeySack for any sign that Mark Dugdale has abandoned his morals and signed with Muscular Development. The hackey-sack stares back at me blankly.
Just then, I see my neighbor's juiced-up teenage son squealing his Dodge Charger's tires around the corner as the intimidating and hardcore beats of 'Fallout Boy' rattle the windows. I can see that rather than watching the street, he's oblivious to Scraps and appears to be holding up his queer orange NV phone. Holy shit, I think, he's checking the same Musclephone message I was about to check!! As Scraps darts into the path of the car, the phone buzzes again, and startled, Scraps drops my musclephone. He continues crossing the street and is absolutely obliterated by the Roid Charger that steamrolls him, double crushing his bloody head and popping out one of Scraps's eyeballs.
I just stand there in total shock, understanding momentarily why my father's last words to me on his deathbed while dying of cirrhosis of the liver were, "Lay off da booze."
I run across the street, accidentally stepping on Scraps's motionless body to find my Musclphone, perfectly intact, lying on the curb. I check the text message and it reads, "Jay Cutler selling his dog's puppies on eBay!"
Wow!! What luck! First Musclephone nearly saves my dog's life, then it saves my Blackberry, and then it alerts me to a way to replace my beloved Scraps with something even more valuable: A puppy formerly owned by Mr. Olympia!!
I buried Scraps last week and even bought a doggy tombstone for him for this fitting epitaph:
Here lies Scraps
Who loved to fetch a bone
He's gone but not forgotten
Thanks to you Musclephone!
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when is Musclephone coming to Europe?
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Thank you, MusclePhone, for making my dreams come true!!!
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hell yeah... i just recieved a text... seems silvio selected the option for dual front impact airbags on his SRT-8 Grand Cherokee and saved a bunch of money on his car insurance.
thanks musclephone
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Ronnie Coleman was just sighted in the same theater PeeWee Herman was caught masturbating in..
Always on point, Always MusclePhone..
"1"
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Here lies Scraps
Who loved to fetch a bone
He's gone but not forgotten
Thanks to you Musclephone!
Oh shit I have tears in my eyes. ;D
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hell yeah... i just recieved a text... seems silvio selected the option for dual front impact airbags on his SRT-8 Grand Cherokee and saved a bunch of money on his car insurance.
thanks musclephone
Nice.
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You know I'm wondering now how they're gonna divvy up the gossip they all collect now; between Isaac, the other guys at Flex and Dave I wonder how they're gonna decide who gets what story or first. Everybody's gonna be in Isaac's ear now feeding him shit. He's gonna be the Harvey Levine of Bodybuilding after this shit, just watch... ;D
Thanks Musclephone!
;D
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Ronnie Coleman was just sighted in the same theater PeeWee Herman was caught masturbating in..
Always on point, Always MusclePhone..
"1"
That cracked me up....good one LOL "same theatre as Pee Wee" hehehe.
I would llove to see Muscle Phone start keeping us current with pro bodybuildin leading solid citizen, Craig "Barbecue" Titus. Ya know, a who he got gang raped by this week.
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I took a good shit last night.
Thanks MusclephoneTM
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Musclephone helped this girl through her battle with cancer.
(http://www.edwardfrench.com/Scannedpix/Bald/ChemoPat.jpg)
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"I subscribed to MusclePhone,and all I got what this lousy toupee."
"Thanks MusclePhone!
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I was on tour in Iraq and we had to infiltrate the town of Halalalalalhck and remove the rebels from the area. As we entered the town proper we were ambushed by numerous rebels lying on the ground in plain sight. We should have known that they weren’t real piles of camel shit as they smelt worse than normal. We were rounded up and lined up against a wall. Just as they were preparing to fire I heard the buzz from my Blackberry. I instantly reached into my back pocket to see what amazing news was breaking.
The Iraqi’s being heathens and backwards people have never heard of the great Musclephone so they all thought I was reaching for a weapon, one of them threw a grenade at us. My squad and I knowing what was really important used our bodies to shield my Blackberry from the blast. There was a loud roar and my squad was ripped to pieces and I was thrown back against the wall, but thankfully my Blackberry was still buzzing away. After I scrapped the Corporal's brains from the screen I shouted out the incredible news so my dying squad mates would hear “Dayana Cadeau and Kai Green are a couple now!”
I knew my squad would rest easy in the afterlife with that bit of news to carry with them.
The leader of the Iraqi’s grabbed my Blackberry and yelled at me that he didn’t believe my infidel's lies but when he saw the message was from Musclephone he knew it had to be true. He turned to the rest of his men and showed them and turned back to me and said “We always thought you Americans dogs were always lying to us about Kai Green and Dayna Cadeau, we always believed the prophet Mohammad when he said they were the same person, but if Musclephone says otherwise it must be so.”
He turned to his men and said “The war is over! We have nothing left to fight over now that we know.” Turning back to me he told me that he would let me live so I could travel across the Middle East with my news and bring peace to the region.
Musclephone saved my life and brought an end to the 1500 years of war in the Middle East in one text
Thanks Musclephone!!
p.s. I can’t seem to find my legs, can Musclephone send me a text so I will know where to look?
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I was on tour in Iraq and we had to infiltrate the town of Halalalalalhck and remove the rebels from the area. As we entered the town proper we were ambushed by numerous rebels lying on the ground in plain sight. We should have known that they weren’t real piles of camel shit as they smelt worse than normal. We were rounded up and lined up against a wall. Just as they were preparing to fire I heard the buzz from my Blackberry. I instantly reached into my back pocket to see what amazing news was breaking.
The Iraqi’s being heathens and backwards people have never heard of the great Musclephone so they all thought I was reaching for a weapon, one of them threw a grenade at us. My squad and I knowing what was really important used our bodies to shield my Blackberry from the blast. There was a loud roar and my squad was ripped to pieces and I was thrown back against the wall, but thankfully my Blackberry was still buzzing away. After I scrapped the Corporal's brains from the screen I shouted out the incredible news so my dying squad mates would hear “Dayana Cadeau and Kai Green are a couple now!”
I knew my squad would rest easy in the afterlife with that bit of news to carry with them.
The leader of the Iraqi’s grabbed my Blackberry and yelled at me that he didn’t believe my infidel's lies but when he saw the message was from Musclephone he knew it had to be true. He turned to the rest of his men and showed them and turned back to me and said “We always thought you Americans dogs were always lying to us about Kai Green and Dayna Cadeau, we always believed the prophet Mohammad when he said they were the same person, but if Musclephone says otherwise it must be so.”
He turned to his men and said “The war is over! We have nothing left to fight over now that we know.” Turning back to me he told me that he would let me live so I could travel across the Middle East with my news and bring peace to the region.
Musclephone saved my life and brought an end to the 1500 years of war in the Middle East in one text
Thanks Musclephone!!
p.s. I can’t seem to find my legs, can Musclephone send me a text so I will know where to look?
Either this is a Special Ed ingenius gimmick account or Original Sin is more than fake tits and dyed blonde hair dancing on a pole. Great writing skills! Bravo!
"Thanks, Musclephone!"
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Either this is a Special Ed ingenius gimmick account or Original Sin is more than fake tits and dyed blonde hair dancing on a pole. Great writing skills! Bravo!
"Thanks, Musclephone!"
Well regardless of the fact that this poor guy had his entire platoon grinded up in a blender and he lost his legs in the process, it's still always good to see Musclephone supporting the troops and helping fight the war on terror!
Thanks Musclephone!
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MusclePhone should be dropped from planes into Baghdad. The insurgents will be so occupied with the news of "Dexter Jackson likes to play billiards" that they will be to busy to fight. MusclePhone has ended the war.
Thanks MusclePhone!
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MusclePhone should be dropped from planes into Baghdad. The insurgents will be so occupied with the news of "Dexter Jackson likes to play billiards" that they will be to busy to fight. MusclePhone has ended the war.
Thanks MusclePhone!
Then it'd be, "Gas just dropped back to below $3 a gallon, thanks musclephone!" ;D
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I get the eerie feeling that we'll soon be contacted by Aliens were waiting all this time for us to have technologically advanced enough to have created the sheer miracle that is MusclephoneTM
Then we could even have Musclephone generation 2, which will be called Muscleprobe :o
Thanks MusclephoneTM
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not only am i a Musclephone customer, i'm also the president.
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My dog was consitpated , couldn't take a dump , and sat on my cell phone . Soon enough the buzz of a new muscle phone text came on. The vibration stimulated her bowels. Here is she is happy and crapping again, thanks muscle phone . My dog's ass works again , thanks to YOU!
Muslce Phone = no backed up doggy bunghole, thanks MF
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My dog was consitpated , couldn't take a dump
You weren't 'accidentally' pushing the stool in, were you? >:(
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Last Saturday night a few of the girls and I from the “office” were finishing our shifts and were turned on by the night of dancing, stroking, and mmmm kissing we just had to burn off the extra sexual tension before we went home. After all the customers went home we all went into the VIP room to have our tension releasing pillow fight. After about twenty minutes of erotic aggression and many “illegal” ripping the clothing off our hot, sweaty bodies we just had to soothe the “battle wounds” created from the feather pillows.
Knowing the best way to relieve a pillow fight stroking is with a pair of wet lips. There were many pairs of nipples that needed extensive treatment. All of us ladies realised that other more sensitive parts may have also been “injured” in the battle and just for safety's sake we thought it was best to place soothing kisses on those areas as well.
We also found a couple of girls that had been playing unfair and had to be restrained and given sound spankings for their naughty indiscretions.
After sometime had passed we noticed a gentlemen sitting in the corner watching us. He must have come in during the “war” as we were all sure that our display was a private affair at the start. This gentleman had a blackberry in one hand and “something” in the other. When he noticed that he was “found out” he did up his jeans and left. As he was leaving has was looking at his Blackberry and we overheard him say
“Thanks Musclephone”
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Last Saturday night a few of the girls and I from the “office” were finishing our shifts and were turned on by the night of dancing, stroking, and mmmm kissing we just had to burn off the extra sexual tension before we went home. After all the customers went home we all went into the VIP room to have our tension releasing pillow fight. After about twenty minutes of erotic aggression and many “illegal” ripping the clothing off our hot, sweaty bodies we just had to soothe the “battle wounds” created from the feather pillows.
Knowing the best way to relieve a pillow fight stroking is with a pair of wet lips. There were many pairs of nipples that needed extensive treatment. All of us ladies realised that other more sensitive parts may have also been “injured” in the battle and just for safety's sake we thought it was best to place soothing kisses on those areas as well.
We also found a couple of girls that had been playing unfair and had to be restrained and given sound spankings for their naughty indiscretions.
After sometime had passed we noticed a gentlemen sitting in the corner watching us. He must have come in during the “war” as we were all sure that our display was a private affair at the start. This gentleman had a blackberry in one hand and “something” in the other. When he noticed that he was “found out” he did up his jeans and left. As he was leaving has was looking at his Blackberry and we overheard him say
“Thanks Musclephone”
LMAOOOO
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We need some of these people with good MP testimonies to call in the show and give their testimonies on the air.
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What an great night it was last night. Was it a stroke of LUCK or was it a stroke of 'MusclePhone'? I met up with a buddy of mine at a local dive bar to watch the Chicago Blackhawks/Detroit Redwings game and crack the top off of a few Heinekens. My buddy being a huge Redwings fan asked me if I wanted to place a little bet. I agreed. He said the Wings will win my 2 and if they WIN then I owe him $50 and if they win by 2 goals...an additional $20 for each goal. Trying to decide how I wanted to wager it a familiar 'jingle' was overheard as I knew it was my 'MusclePhone'. The first MusclePhone message said..."Phil Heath ate 4 solid meals today." The other message that came through said that ''Big Sean Allen stands at 6'2...NOT 6'1.'' An epiphany came over me and I decided to go with my gut and bet that the Hawks would win by FOUR...and the exact score would be Hawks-6, Wings-2. With calling the exact score the agreement was an additional $50.
Well? It turns out after the game I was an extra $180 more rich as the Hawks whipped the Wings with a final score of 6-2.
Thanks, Musclephone!
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yo, muscle phone aint working over here. isaac?
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I was up late last night celebrating the losses of Karo Parisyan, Joe Lauzon, and Houston Alexander at Ultimate Fight Night and having a few shots of Knob Creek. Anyway, after watching the LIVE show at 7pm and the replay at 1am, I didn't get to bed until around 4am. When my alarm went off at 6:30am to wake up and take my grandmother back to the nursing home for breakfast, I was so tired I hit 'SNOOZE' and wonked out again.
I woke up to the lovely feeling of a set of high-powered Hoover lips fellating me. With my eyes still closed, I reached down to feel the soft hair of my girl, but instead felt something closer to steel wool. I opened my eyes and saw my grandmother face down, her face in my lap, my cock buried in her throat and her false teeth resting on my stomach.
"GRAMMA!!!!!" I screamed.
"Norman??" she asked, squinting up at me, while still stroking the shaft.
Oh Christ! Norman was my grandfather, who's been dead for 11 years.
Rather than deal with the awkwardness of the moment and embarrass Gramma, I put on my 'old man voice' and said, "Feels good honey, now keep at it!" and watched her go back to work. By the time I gave her the recommended RDA of protein for her age group, I was overwhelmed with guilt and shame. I politely Cung Lee'd her in the gut and heard her tumble onto the floor, then jumped up and ran into the shower. I was sandpapering my cock for the eleventh time when I heard Gramma enter the bathroom.
"Norman, your electric razor won't stop BUZZING!"
I wiped off the foggy glass and saw her holding my Musclephone.
"That's not my razor, that's my Musclephone!" I shouted, but it was too late. She opened the door and after "shaving" my back a few times, dropped the phone on the wet floor.
I picked it up and could immediately tell it was already ruined. The screen was jumbled with a mix of colors and characters last seen in a Spike Lee joint. "FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCC CCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!" I screamed, "you fucking ruined my Musclephone you toothless whore!"
Completely oblivious to my rage, she smiled at me and said: "Did you know Kai Greene puts grapefruit slices in his Rice Krispies?"
Thanks Musclephone!
(http://worldwide.typepad.com/schoolhouse/toothless-big.jpg)
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what did you think of the Cung Li/Frank Shamrock fight, Ed?
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I was up late last night celebrating the losses of Karo Parisyan, Joe Lauzon, and Houston Alexander at Ultimate Fight Night and having a few shots of Knob Creek. Anyway, after watching the LIVE show at 7pm and the replay at 1am, I didn't get to bed until around 4am. When my alarm went off at 6:30am to wake up and take my grandmother back to the nursing home for breakfast, I was so tired I hit 'SNOOZE' and wonked out again.
I woke up to the lovely feeling of a set of high-powered Hoover lips fellating me. With my eyes still closed, I reached down to feel the soft hair of my girl, but instead felt something closer to steel wool. I opened my eyes and saw my grandmother face down, her face in my lap, my cock buried in her throat and her false teeth resting on my stomach.
"GRAMMA!!!!!" I screamed.
"Norman??" she asked, squinting up at me, while still stroking the shaft.
Oh Christ! Norman was my grandfather, who's been dead for 11 years.
Rather than deal with the awkwardness of the moment and embarrass Gramma, I put on my 'old man voice' and said, "Feels good honey, now keep at it!" and watched her go back to work. By the time I gave her the recommended RDA of protein for her age group, I was overwhelmed with guilt and shame. I politely Cung Lee'd her in the gut and heard her tumble onto the floor, then jumped up and ran into the shower. I was sandpapering my cock for the eleventh time when I heard Gramma enter the bathroom.
"Norman, your electric razor won't stop BUZZING!"
I wiped off the foggy glass and saw her holding my Musclephone.
"That's not my razor, that's my Musclephone!" I shouted, but it was too late. She opened the door and after "shaving" my back a few times, dropped the phone on the wet floor.
I picked it up and could immediately tell it was already ruined. The screen was jumbled with a mix of colors and characters last seen in a Spike Lee joint. "FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCC CCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!" I screamed, "you fucking ruined my Musclephone you toothless whore!"
Completely oblivious to my rage, she smiled at me and said: "Did you know Kai Greene puts grapefruit slices in his Rice Krispies?"
Thanks Musclephone!
(http://worldwide.typepad.com/schoolhouse/toothless-big.jpg)
;D ;D ;D
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Bump for more tales of Musclephone excellence!
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"Thanks, Musclephone!"
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What an great night it was last night. Was it a stroke of LUCK or was it a stroke of 'MusclePhone'? I met up with a buddy of mine at a local dive bar to watch the Chicago Blackhawks/Detroit Redwings game and crack the top off of a few Heinekens. My buddy being a huge Redwings fan asked me if I wanted to place a little bet. I agreed. He said the Wings will win my 2 and if they WIN then I owe him $50 and if they win by 2 goals...an additional $20 for each goal. Trying to decide how I wanted to wager it a familiar 'jingle' was overheard as I knew it was my 'MusclePhone'. The first MusclePhone message said..."Phil Heath ate 4 solid meals today." The other message that came through said that ''Big Sean Allen stands at 6'2...NOT 6'1.'' An epiphany came over me and I decided to go with my gut and bet that the Hawks would win by FOUR...and the exact score would be Hawks-6, Wings-2. With calling the exact score the agreement was an additional $50.
Well? It turns out after the game I was an extra $180 more rich as the Hawks whipped the Wings with a final score of 6-2.
Thanks, Musclephone!
awsome story.
who are the hawks playing in the first round of the play offs?
great thread.
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MusclePhone saved my life.
A few weeks ago me and my bros had just finished a brutal workout. After finishing our 40 egg whites, 5 cups of rice and 8 bags of carrots as to not miss the "anabolic window" we were on our way. Already pumped and oiled from our workout session we decided to hit up the local GNC for some supps and hit up some fitness sluts.
We hopped into our rascal scooters (we had just trained legs and had to let them recover) and were flying down the sidewalk at 5 mph. Out of nowhere a group of muscle bros dressed in v-tops, otomix shoes, American flag pants and a fanny pack came out of an alley. Thinking that they were fellow warriors of the steel, we reached out our calloused hands in a show of solidarity with the iron.
One of them pulled a gun out of their BSN ankle holster and yelled "Who the hell won the New Zealand Pro?". My mind racing, and sweat soaking my bandanna, I took a sip of water from my gallon jug of water.
Then out of the heavens came my Ronnie Coleman "light weight" ring tone. I feverishly took off my straps and flipped open the phone. There it was, the NZ pro results straight to my MusclePhone. Telling this guy the results, he was elated being a huge Dexter Jackson fan. We performed dips on the sidewalk until failure and proceeded to GNC with our gold cards in hand for some discount supps.
Thanks MusclePhone!
There is a very real chance this is the most funny post Ive read here in quite a long time.
Jason
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I just ended my muscle phone service, so I will end this one with: NO thanks musclephone :D
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I just ended my muscle phone service, so I will end this one with: NO thanks musclephone :D
You're making a mistake. MusclePhone can align the planets and can cause universal harmony. I'd reconsider if I were you.
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standing in the $20 thousand kitchen in one of my $1.5 million plus homes, my only thought was 'it can't get any fukkin' worse' , where only moments earlier i'd been perfecting my new 'best conditioned' pop/lock posedown moves in the harsh halogen down-lights, all i could see now was a harsher reality written in stark black ink stating, 'due to attitude issues pumidas regrets we are unable to offer you the $5 million contract you have requested for you services' or some such FUKKIN' BULLSHIT from some FUKKIN' PENCILNECK MUTHAFUKKA. just then the phone rang, it's my darling barbarella, at least something good in my life can happen today 'champ, it's bad news, shittycorp have had to let me go due to some 'global credit crisis' or something, i dunnno, and the cleaning department is the first to get cutbacks - how we gonna afford the new rims for the hummer your daddy lent you?' no! this can't be happening to me, the great champ chumpali! i need more time to show the peanut gallery my trophy winning camera fone pictures - god, i beg you, show me a sign to carry on and prove to the world that upping the doseage for another year *can* overcome genetics - please lord...
just then, my other celly, which i only use for ordering my cell-tech supps starts beeping madly, i flip it open, suddenly my life snaps back into focus, more so than ever before as i read:
"craig titus drops soap - again"
thanks MUSCLEPHONE!
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Great testimony! I don't know what the hell you're talking about but nevertheless, a great testimony.
A friend of mine called me and told me a great MusclePhone testimony today. She was in the gym deadlifting and woke up today very stiff and sore. She had a hard-time standing up straight and even getting up out of bed. It was a pain she has never felt before so immediately her mind starts racing as she thinks maybe she popped or pulled something she may regret because her training will be hindered.
She checks herself into a hospital and the doctors were baffled. They couldn't figure it out. After many hours in CAT scan, MRI and XRay the doctors still couldn't diagnose the situation and didn't know how to treat her. Then and there her cell phone jingles with a new TEXT MESSAGE. As she anxiously scavanged through her purse to check to see if it was a new MusclePhone message she flipped her phone open and to her glee she read outloud..."Valium and Vicodin may inhibit severe muscle soreness and inflammation."
Her doctors, completely blown away from the news diagnosed her with 'simple muscle soreness' and sent her packing with a fresh prescription of vicodin and valium. Now she is at home sedated in a different state of mind unaware of her surrounding, soreness, train of thought and feeling no pain.
Thanks, MusclePhone!
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If you don't have a cell phone can musclephone news be delivered via fax, morse code, or messenger pigeon?
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If you don't have a cell phone can musclephone news be delivered via fax, morse code, or messenger pigeon?
The question is now WHAT MusclePhone can do...it is WHAT IT CANNOT do.
Some astro-physicists declare that MusclePhone will soon align the planets and cause inter-galactic harmony. True story!
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The question is now WHAT MusclePhone can do...it is WHAT IT CANNOT do.
Musclephone does not sleep. Musclephone waits!
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Musclephone counted to infinity - twice!
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Musclephone can slam a revolving door.
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Musclephone can divide by zero!
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LOL, Chuck Norris who?
Thanks Musclephone
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When you throw your Musclephone into a river it doesn't get wet...but the RIVER gets MUSCLEPHONED!
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standing in the $20 thousand kitchen in one of my $1.5 million plus homes, my only thought was 'it can't get any fukkin' worse' , where only moments earlier i'd been perfecting my new 'best conditioned' pop/lock posedown moves in the harsh halogen down-lights, all i could see now was a harsher reality written in stark black ink stating, 'due to attitude issues pumidas regrets we are unable to offer you the $5 million contract you have requested for you services' or some such FUKKIN' BULLSHIT from some FUKKIN' PENCILNECK MUTHAFUKKA. just then the phone rang, it's my darling barbarella, at least something good in my life can happen today 'champ, it's bad news, shittycorp have had to let me go due to some 'global credit crisis' or something, i dunnno, and the cleaning department is the first to get cutbacks - how we gonna afford the new rims for the hummer your daddy lent you?' no! this can't be happening to me, the great champ chumpali! i need more time to show the peanut gallery my trophy winning camera fone pictures - god, i beg you, show me a sign to carry on and prove to the world that upping the doseage for another year *can* overcome genetics - please lord...
just then, my other celly, which i only use for ordering my cell-tech supps starts beeping madly, i flip it open, suddenly my life snaps back into focus, more so than ever before as i read:
"craig titus drops soap - again"
thanks MUSCLEPHONE!
Very clever man. This thread's bringing out the best in several people. Thanks Musclephone! ;D
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the musclephone is also known to have biblical powers, the river also turns to wine!
thanks musclephone!
When you throw your Musclephone into a river it doesn't get wet...but the RIVER gets MUSCLEPHONED!
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the musclephone is also known to have biblical powers, the river also turns to wine!
thanks musclephone!
Thanks, Musclephone!
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This woman in the gym keeps looking at me. I'm used to getting plenty of looks but this has the obvious " I want to fuck you" written all over it. I was feeling pretty confindent this one day so i decided to go up to her and ask her out. Before i could get a full sentence out, she said "hell yeah-how about tonight--and by the way my name is Shasha". I smiled and stated for sure its on.
We both finished working out about the same time so we walked out together. As we were walking over to my Vette, she said "wow i love Vette's-take me for a ride". Of course i said hop in. At this time we have been cruising the city for about 10 minutes and wouldn't you know it, she already has my fly down and is going balls deep on my meat pipe. About a minute goes by and she stops what she is doing and proceeds to put a bump of YAyo on the head of my puppet. She does approx 3 or 4 bumps off my black stick and as she is finishing the last bump, i grab her by the back of the head and state "I fucking love you"
CON'T
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Yeah, I know telling a woman you just met 20 minutes ago that you love her has weirdo stocker(of Lee Priest proportions) written all over it, but there was just something about this woman that drove me crazy. I'm not sure if it was the way she blew me. Or the way she was so open about doing bumps of Ya off the head of my skin flute. Or the way her adam's apple moved when she sang to the radio that drove my crazy. I just couldn't put my finger on it but i knew that i was falling in love with this woman.I've heard of love at first sight and all but never really believed in such bullshit. Let me tell you all straight out, I'm now a true believer of that shit.
So were driving around and she has been blowing me for about 5 minutes. I just finished busting my 3rd nut and i really needed some time to re-charge the old batteries. So we stopped on the side of the road and switched seats. I've never let anyone else drive my vette before but something told me that she truly was someone that could be trusted...I mean she had "Trust Me" written all over her.
CON'T
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So were now flying down the highway going around 100mph. Shasha was really getting turned on now. I was kissing her neck and playing with her titties and it was driving her absolutely nuts. She arched her back and picked up her ass so that I could easliy get your pants off. At this point, I just dived head first straight down between her legs. I quickly pulled her panties off and to my surprise took what i thought was a stick shift right to the face. It almost knocked me unconscious and for a second or two i really did believe it was my stick shift. That is until i realized that my car was an automatic and the shifter was on the tree(specially ordered like the old SS impala's).
Now this really weird feeling came over me. It was at that very moment why i knew I was falling in love with this wo/man. I actually busted a 4th nut just thinking about what was going on in front of me. I then grabbed hold of this thing as if it were the joy stick of the old Atari and i was smack dab right in the middle of the highest score ever recorded on Asteroids.
CON'T
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Thats when the shit really hit the fan. The cops were now right behind us and the bluies were flashing as we were going well over 100mph. I kept my head really low so the cops could only see one person in the car. And god damn could this bitch drive. She was weaving in and out of traffic and all i remember her saying is "what the fuck should we". At that exact moment, i realise just how fucked we really were. For i had a key of some of the finest columbian Ziggy hidden under my spare tire. I shit you not, i literally started crying. Tears were rolling down my face almost to the likes of when some bodybuilder punched me in the face in the gym.
That is when the miracle happend. I was basically shitty my pants when all of a sudden my phone started to blow up. It wasn't my regular phone but my trusty ol'e muscle phone. A text message kept flashing over and over with the words "MUSCLE MISSIONS HAS HACKED THE SYSTEM" ---" I REPEAT MUSCLE MISSIONS HAS HACKED THE SYSTEM"...It was like a massive spot light came down over Sasha and I. I knew that at that very moment in time, we had to get to the church. And we had to lose the cops before hand...
CON'T
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To the church i yelled to Sasha. And lose the cops. She drove like a mad man or woman or whatever. In and out of traffic, up on lawns etc. We pulled into the church and i knew we lost the cops but i also knew that they had my tag number. And it wouldn't be long before they caught up to me so i had to do the old switch-a-ru. My plan was to go the church were my mom was playing bingo and i would switch cars with her. She would drive home my Vette and Sasha and I would get her car and we would be in the clear.
So i ran into the church and told my mom that i needed her car to help a friend move and that she could take my vette home. My mom being sweet as she is kissed me on the cheek and said of course son, here is my keys...
Well i've been hiding out at Sasha's house for sometime now. I've tried to get into touch with my mom but she is not answering her phone. I do hope that she is ok. I sometimes wonder if buying/registering that car in her name was the right thing to do. Sasha tells me that she is sure everything is fine and that its probably just the massive amounts of hormones that i've pumped thru my body over the years that is making my mind play trix with me..
I will say that if it wasn't for my muscle phone, I don't know where i would be today...I may of lost a car and a key of coke. And my mom may or may not be rotting in jail. But i've gained a whole religion over this...
So thank you muscle phone...Thank you!!!!!!...
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I added 50 lbs to my bench and 100 lbs to my squat by switching to MusclePhone.
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Nice work Spoony. Shawn Ray + Musclephone = Great Success!
Thanks Musclephone!
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I added 50 lbs to my bench and 100 lbs to my squat by switching to MusclePhone.
I just saved money on my car insurance. It's so easy a caveman can do it.
Thanks, Musclephone!
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I was stuck in a traffic nightmare the other day, and my car ran out of Gas. with no where to go, my phone Buzzed, and the message said, "Help is on the way"
Thanks to the Almighty "Musclephone"
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I found an easier way to wipe my ass. Thanks Musclephone
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I found an easier way to wipe my ass. Thanks Musclephone
All very believable stories until this. ;D
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All very believable stories until this. ;D
How else do you expect an 800-lb man to wipe his ass? It's MusclephoneTM or nothing in his case.
Thanks, Musclephone!
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How else do you expect an 800-lb man to wipe his ass? It's MusclephoneTM or nothing in his case.
Thanks, Musclephone!
MusclePhone, helping obese shut in everywhere/
Thanks MusclepHONE!
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Bump for a classic 8)
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we need these classic post more often here. I miss Ol' Block