"I'm THE Lilliebridge." He replied, being polite enough to ignore my creepy demeanor and off putting smell."Now, who are you, my man?"
"I'm some douche on the internet." I said. He believed me. He stuck out his hand. My eyes widen. I wasn't prepared for this. My mind cannot comprehend this, this is definitely shaped like a hand, but it belongs to Eric Lilliebridge, and it's reaching toward mine. How is this possible? Didn't he notice my smell?
I stick my hand out, fingers twitching, and attempt to grip his hand. He wraps his fingers around mine, then brings his left hand in to finish the job in what can only be called the Kennedy hand cave.
| Note the two hands tag teaming the other dude's |
Upon closer examination, I realized he wiped a bunch of spray tan shit all over my hand. I assume this is the source of his great strength
In less impressive news, I blew fucking chunks at the meet, not PRing anything at all. In fact, on a better day I probably could have gotten these pretty easily.
But this wasn't a better day. I was still sick from Wednesday, and I weighed in at 187 while wearing jeans, sweatshirt and hiking boots. So my weight was more like around 178. I could have made the 181s pretty easily and I should have.
Got 474 on the squat, 220 on the bench, and 374 on the deadlift. Missed everything but my openers on the squat and bench, but then my handler changed the deadlift opener and I actually got my second attempt on it.
Since I'm too tall to be a decent 198, I'm going to pack on some pounds. Gonna go to at least the 220s. Maybe more. If I like being a big fatty maybe I'll just keep going, which will be cool to watch. Maybe take a selfie once a week and see how it goes.
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