OK. We Get It. You Have Muscles.
I'm all about physical fitness. No doubt about it. People who work out generally enjoy a higher quality of life. Everybody should try to incorporate some sort of excercise into their lifestyle activities. I can't stress the importance of this enough.
Now that I got that first paragraph out of the way, I have to ask this question: Why do people with big muscles feel the need to constantly remind the world that they do, in fact, have big muscles? Usually, it's quite evident. Either you have big muscles, or a bunch of radioactive mosquitos out of a Godzilla movie whipped your ass and bit you all over your body. Let me tell you all what happened on Wednesday to give you some insight on how this question came to mind.
I went to a book signing, and after it was over, I was walking out with the lady who sat next to me during the event. We were talking while heading towards the door, and this muscle-bound man in a Shaquille O'Neal jersey stomped in with an angry look on his face. He was the type of guy that looked like he ate a box of Wheaties for breakfast, sprinkled with steroids and infants. The man's shoulders looked like bowling balls, like some kind of Negro Mutant Ninja Turtle. He was storming forward pretty fast at a pace that was not quite running, but a step faster than that "power walking" stuff that old people do for excercise.
I saw him, but the lady walking with me did not. As soon as I said "Watch out!" Shaq jersey man's shoulder hit her and damn near spun her around. The worst part is that the guy just kept on going as if nothing happened. I honestly think if he had knocked her down, he would have walked back, stood over her and yelled out "AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH" like a linebacker who just sacked a quarterback. Not do what a normal person would do: apologize for being a big, angry, possibly creatine mood swing suffering man who just gave a shoulder block to a woman.
Of course, I said something, but luckily he didn't hear me. I would have had to have done something crazy, like stab him in the eyeball or set his nuts on fire to win that fight. I would imagine someone that big can take a punch or twelve. I think I subconsciously waited until he was out of earshot to call him a jackass. You can call me all kinds of things, but "suicidal" is not one of them.
That event made me wonder why muscle-bound people do some of the things that they do. Like wearing little-ass clothes.
I know you can find a shirt that fits, and Stevie Wonder can see that you have muscles, so the extra-smedium shirt is not necessary. Stop cutting off your circulation and give your little nephew his shirt back! If I can see your heart beating, then something is terribly wrong. That's the real reason this guy's veins are bulging out...HE CAN'T BREATHE! The model above was rumored to have been found dead of nipple asphyxiation mere hours after the photo shoot. R.I.P., you tight titty t-shirt wearing ass clown.
On a closing note, I would like to tell all of the people out there with big muscles reading this that my intention is not to make fun of you. My intention is to help keep you all from playing yourselves. Continue to do what you do, just buy some clothes that fit, and stop trying to show off so much. We know you're proud. We know you worked hard. That said, you need to know that the type of behavior that I wrote about is considered obnoxious by just about everybody.
Oh, on an unrelated note(well other than the fact that he works out too), my man Wade opened a travel website that's defintely comparable witht all of the big boys. If you're planning on taking a trip anytime soon, check out Tripgrab.com. The summer is coming up, so I figure I should throw that out there since a lot of folks are going to be taking vacations or going to conferences. You know it's good stuff if I'm putting it up here, because I don't endorse anything not directly related to me unless it kicks ass. So use it, b*tches.