Crazy job credentials

Here at the gym, I've had my share of people popping in and asking me for a job. Some of them are college educated with actual resumes while others just make the feeblest attempts that you ever saw like having their mothers call me and ask for the job for them. Sometimes kids will walk in here and have such little experience looking an adult in the eye and communicating that they just look down at the floor and mumble something about a job. I even had one kid just pop his head in the door and ask me if I was hiring. He was obviously too busy and important to come all the way into the building for a proper interview.

However, the other day, the list of potential employees might have hit rock bottom. I was in the middle of training and saw what looked like a strung out, homeless vagrant walk in the front door. I immediately started my way toward him to cut him off from possibly going into our locker room and rooting around people’s lockers. I stopped him in his tracks, and he looked at me with a glassy-eyed expression. He asked, “Are you hiring?”

I looked down at this pathetic piece of humanity and saw that he had the word “crazy” tattooed very prominently on not one but both of his forearms. I pictured him in the tattoo studio after getting the first one done, saying to the artist, “You know what? That looks pretty good, but it’s not really quite enough. Hit me again right here on this arm, buddy. When I walk into job interviews, I want my shit to look proportional.”

Needless to say, I quickly determined that Crazy wasn’t exactly Iron Sport employee material and told him to get the fuck out before he turned the entire gym HIV positive.

Schmoe mail

I have a good friend who is a high-level female bodybuilder. She has her own website and is on Facebook and all, so she is very accessible to every wacko and nut job from around the globe. She gets tons of emails from her “fans” who, in the world of bodybuilding, are called “schmoes.” These schmoes rank anywhere from super fans to real sick-fuck sexual fetishists. These guys will worship both male and female lifters. Some schmoes will pay big bucks and fly women (and men) across the world to look at them, wrestle them, feel their muscles, take photos of them, or get picked up and carried around by them like a baby. In most cases, sex isn't the ultimate outcome. It’s just the thrill of those other acts that fulfill their twisted fantasies.

My friend sometimes forwards some of the funny or totally off-the-wall letters she gets from her male admirers. This is one she sent me yesterday:

Hello,
I am slave are a lover of 27 years love ballbusting, are 10 years that this dilation posts of large dimensions especially made with both feet. Should you wish to become my ass a cave? I want to come to her for a session, you can for the weekend? Thanks aspect its news.

Now, after careful examination of this email, I think I have it all figured out. First, it's loosely translated through translation software from Italian. Most of your really hardcore schmoes are from Europe. I think what he ultimately wants is to hire my friend to fly to Italy and use both of her feet in some way to stretch his butthole out until it’s as wide as a cave. I have no idea what the going rate is to double foot fuck a guy in his ass, but I would imagine that it would be up there. Good thing for him, her feet really aren’t that big. Eww.

More great Stevey P. coaching

Lifter: "Hey, Steve, did you see that squat? Was it below parallel?"

Steve: "No."

Lifter: "Was it close?"

Steve: "Let’s put it this way. You were so far from being in the hole that the hole should send your ass a postcard saying, 'Having a wonderful time here in below parallel land. Wish you were here!'”

Lifter: "So it wouldn’t pass in a meet?"

Steve puts his hands to his face.

Moral of the story—don’t ask me the same question twice.

Cuddle buddy

Besides offering great training tools and giving you free, top notch training information, part of what elitefts™ does is fight the good fight against the pussification of America. This is why I really want to address this particular situation.

I was driving into work today listening to a morning radio show. The topic being discussed was a new way for pussified men to fully emasculate and embarrass themselves. As if being in the “friend zone” wasn’t enough for some guys, we now have “cuddle buddies.” These jerks are so far in the friend zone that you can hardly see them anymore. We aren't talking about friends with benefits or fuck buddies here. We're talking about a guy who a chick calls up when her real boyfriend pisses her off to come over and cuddle her without any chance in hell of getting laid or even getting a pity hand job. Then once the schmuck cuddle buddy makes her feel better about herself again, she kicks his weenie ass out and the boyfriend comes over and bangs her into the fourth dimension. Meanwhile, the cuddle buddy is home slamming the closet door into his boner trying to make it go down.

I was so astounded at the downfall of men that when I arrived at work, Pepper and I did some research on this cuddle buddy situation. We found a bunch of websites about these things called “cuddle parties.” These parties are like a swingers orgy of clothed people cuddling, most of them crying. The cuddling can be one-on-one, a few couples at once, or a large group also known as a “puppy pile.” There are strict rules at these parties such as no sex and everyone must wear pajamas or sweat suits. And no sex!

Yes, it’s true. Stevey P has roomed with women who he didn’t have sex with. Me and the girl I coach for Highland games roomed together a couple times this summer, but the ground rules were established beforehand. She’s a 25-year-old attractive girl. I’m a 48-year-old, gross, old, married man who she has no interest in. No problem. You sleep over there, and I’ll sleep over here and try not to make any damn noise. I wasn’t wasting my time over there stroking her fucking hair and rubbing her damn feet. See the difference there cuddle buddies? C’mon fellas! Stop kissing these girls' asses, pull yourselves together, and be men dammit!