Your face.

I'm done. 2 words for this coach log. See you next week.

Seriously, your face does irritate the shit out of me but there are other things that irritate me, too.

Some will say that trenbologna sandwiches make people irritable (if you don't get the reference, that's on you). After competing for as long as I have, I am here to tell you that is not the problem. The problem is lethargy, your shoes feeling like cement blocks, your hunger, feeling weak AF, not having a good night sleep in at least two months, etc. Sure, supplementation can exacerbate your high level of irritation but it isn't the cause of it.


When I'm tired and hungry, I do not want to talk; it's exhausting. If I say something and you don't hear me, just ignore me. Ignoring me will irritate me, too, but it isn't as irritating as having to repeat myself. I don't now how many times I look at my wife when she says, "Huh?", and I want to stab her in the face with a spork. Then there are times when I'm next-level irritated, and I SWEAR she heard me but is just fucking with me to see if I get irritated when she says, "Huh?". One time—and I am not kidding—I asked her a question and after saying "Huh?", I waited and just kept looking at her. Shen then ANSWERED MY QUESTION! WTF?? You said, "Huh?", but you HEARD my question?? I'm still mad about that and that was back in 2014.

I win this one, though, because when she says "Huh?", I then speak VERY loudly when I repeat myself and she is then as irritated as I am with her. If you need any more advice about how to stay married for 30 years, I'm your guy.


Another thing that irritates me when I'm dieting is when I'm asked if I want to have sex. Duh. Hell no, I don't. I'm exhausted. You want me to do ALL of the work when I'm starving and cramping? Oh, you'll do all of the work? Nope. Still not interested. The more I think about it, I don't know how I have stayed married for 30 years.


It isn't just my wife who irritates me when I'm dieting. I love my cats but if Linus (my bengal) knocks one more fucking thing off of the counter when I'm trying to work at 3am, I am going to throw him off of the balcony. We live on the 22nd floor but I could probably get him to the pool on the 12 floor—I'm pretty sure.

Then there are the people in the elevator. No one EVER makes small talk with me when I'm not dieting. I get into the elevator and I just stare at the person in front of me to make them feel awkward. When I'm dieting, I just look down, keep to myself, and wait for my floor. Someone always has to ask me that fucking question: "Oh, you workout?" I just look at them like... I want to stab them in the face with a spork. I then HAVE to respond because they just stand there staring at me. I say, "I do," with a shitty smirk. They then get off of the elevator and are absolutely convinced that I'm a gigantic asshole. They are correct.

That F-ing Toilet

Not sure if you have ever done this but I actually get irritated with tangible objects. I am not above bitching out the light switch when I try to turn it off while walking by, and it didn't turn off. The other day the toilet seat received my pursed-lip message of: "Why in THE fuck would you slam down like that at 4am??" Just this morning I bitched out my shorts because my one leg didn't go all of the way through the leg hole the first time. I don't have the fucking patience for this crap.

Here is what I want when I'm dieting:

Don't talk to me.

Don't look at me.
Don't use a piece of equipment in the gym that I plan to use in the next 30 minutes.

Don't even acknowledge me; pretend I don't even exist.

The bitch is, if you do any or all of the above, I will then wonder to myself, "What the fuck is everyone's problem? Why aren't they noticing how big I am?"

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