Hunting the Lilliebridges.

Editor's note: I found this in an old note book of mine. I could only understand the handwriting on a couple pages, and the rest were either torn out or covered in coffee stains. What I did understand fucking creeped me out.

While basking in the sun on my private island, watching Pemberton command my Samoan workers on the new deck, I realized something was missing. Hunting. I had never hunted before, but I had certainly felt bloodlust, as all men do. But I didn't want to hunt pigs, bears, or even heads. No, I was going to hunt the ultimate specimen. The Lilliebridges.

To hunt them, I'd first need them on the island. I knew this was going to be dangerous, but I had exaggerated just how dangerous. At the time I was working on the idea that they could crush cars with their bare hands, were between 7 and 9 feet tall, and were also highly radioactive from years in the powerlifting circuit. I realized the first was obviously bullshit, the second point was also bullshit, they are closer to 4.5 feet tall, and furthermore, they are only mildly radioactive, about as dangerous as 4086 bananas, or 403 sieverts.

After paying an associate a rather large lump sum, I had them shipped to my island. They were fine, but the amount of raw meat they consumed was enormous.

The night they were shipped, I let them loose on my island. As I lay in my silken sheets in my manor, sitting on the hill above the jungle below, I heard them howling. Slowly, a grin crawled across my face to tickle my ear lobes. I barely slept I was so excited.

When it was morning, I skipped breakfast, opting for a hunt instead. I had Pemberton pick out a manservant for the hunt, as well as several items of interest. I set out on foot to try and catch a trail. I found it quickly enough. I followed cautiously with Pemberton and the manservant following.

"I say, my good man, there is nothing quite like the hunt." I said. I breathed deep, relishing the Pacific air. Suddenly I heard something. A snap of a twig. A great, rusty breathing coming from just within the brush. I raised the rifle. Another breath. I fired. He charged like a rhino. I managed to dodge him just before he struck, but Pemberton wasn't as lucky. He rolled through him and kept on charging.

As I saw Ernie Sr. run away, I ran over to Pemberton, who had been disemboweled by Ernie's tusks. "Sir, it has been an honor serving with you." He said. Then he could no longer hold his intestines in and they fell out.

approximately 4 pages missing

Ernie Jr.'s eyes bulged as I tightened the garot around his neck. Suddenly his neck flexed, snapping the thin chord, sending it spinning into the Samoan manservant.

"Haw haw!" I shouted as I pulled the knife out of my boot and slashed wildly at him. It cut deep into his skin, and buckets of blood poured out onto me. I was nearly awash in it. I didn't think this was a problem, but then I started slipping. Not a problem because I had trained for wrestling in slippery places. i didn't account on his blood being flammable. I looked up in horror as he threw the zippo lighter down in the pool

"You son of a bitch!" I sho pages missing.

"I must admit, I wouldn't have hunted you and your family had I known you were capable of human thoughts," I said to the Lilliebridges.

"Just don't do it again." Eric said with a smile on his voice.

Editor's note: I still have no idea what the fuck I was thinking.

Group Think

There is nothing else in the world that has more potential to be badass then a big group of people all working towards the same goal. This applies to all things in life, especially getting fucking strong. If a weak dude just lifts in his basement, he has no one to call him a pussy. He can just fail his 275 pound squats and quit forever. If that happens in a good gym, everyone in the room will be calling him a weak bitch who has to get his shit together.

Notably, we have powerlifter Tom Norchez, from Israel (a fact he considers so important he answers only to it.) Formerly, a wannabe monk, joined a group of people who all wanted to get strong and then he got strong. Fucking strong

Tommy Norchez making shit look good

Although, we probably should not go off of Tim because, frankly, he's out of his fucking mind for lifting heavy shit. Although... I've seen a lot of his training videos, and notably he always has a bunch of dudes there to call him a pussy when he fails. The entire group has their minds all laser focused on one thing, to get strong. And when you're with a group like that, it rubs off on you. I would know. When i train at home, I feel like shit. And when I don't, I feel good. This is the way science is done.

But what is happening in these gyms is that a bunch of people all decided to do one thing at once. It's weird when it's something like Vandalism or gang rape, but it's entirely different when it comes to getting strong.

Another thing that can happen is that when a group of people all turn against one dude they hate. Due to the fact that I am entirely uneducated, a convicted felon, and barely literate, I have become employed at a fast food establishment known as McDonald's. You may have heard of it.

The point is that everyone on the crew is cool with each other, then this fucking jerk off named ram rod gets hired. In addition to being a cock, he also picked fights, stole food, threw away good food, burned several people with grease, and just generally ruined everything. With the team work of everyone involved, we managed to make him cry basically every shift. It turned into a game later on. I only regret not making him cry more.

The point is, if you have trouble training, find a group of people. Your lifts will go up 40% if there is someone there to call you a little bitch, plus benching is a lot easier.

Go to a black iron gym. They're fucking badass.