Fuck an intro, wait — is this an intro now? Excellent— and now I'm talking to myself, fuck.

Listen, I need some help, and maybe one of you Viking, savage, lion, tigers, and bears oh my fucks can help me out.

Let's address these one at a time.

Vikings- You lame dorks show up to "workout" day in and day out looking like it's a god damn powerlifting apparel photo shoot. Hair gelled to perfection, your outfit is "lit, " but hey you look like a powerlifter, take yer $400 costume off and walk around the mall and yer just another average joe shopping. No "hey, bro how much you bench," no weird stares as you try to maneuver through racks in a store, no one pointing you out to their friends, nope you're just another lame dude.

Vikings, on the other hand, spent a good part of the 8th - 11th-centuries raiding villages throughout Europe burning down churches, raping, pillaging, and rarely stopped to bathe let alone gel their hair, this lasted until around the 12th century when Norway became Christianized. Now please explain how your pizza sock donut fueled sumo deadlift equates in yer mind that you are a Viking. Bums

Savages- now being from a different walk of life than I assume most of you reading this are, to me a savage is probably different, you probably associate it more with yer clown ass Viking thought process. Most of you take selfies in between sets, update your Ig with warm up sets, as to prepare us for the savagery that shall ensue, which never does.

Savages- here in Chicago at least, usually have facial tattoos, upside down crosses tattooed between their eyes. They will shoot you for no fucking reason other than it's hot outside. They will go home eat lunch and take a nap, that's a savage— nothing about your 300-pound bench with the latest wrist wraps, elbows sleeves, cuffs, and any other additional items you can wear to identify as a powerlifter makes you a savage. Dorks

Lions, Tigers, and Bears Oh my- I'm not sure who's worse the idiot pretty boy "Vikings" or you d-bags. You are not a lion, but yet a "lyin" may suit you much better, you are not a 550 lb killing-machine.

Although you probably do sleep all day and have your GF/Mom cook (lionesses do 90% of the hunting) so I guess maybe if any you can claim, this would be the one. I'm not sure what your 405 lb squat has to do with a giant cat with teeth that can rip meat, raw, from the bones of its prey. Geeks

Honorable Mention's

Beast- sorry homie you look like Pauly D from the jersey shores chubby cousin, beastly? Not hardly.

Mixed Martial Artist- oh your 40 and have a white belt, cool don't crane kick my dick in, please Daniel son— get a life.

Powerlifting Police- I know, I know INTEGRITY, get the fuck out of here, searching the web looking for high squats, calling out people who push the envelope— all the while they squat your subtotal. You saving the integrity of powerlifting by calling out any squat YOU deem "high" has as much a chance of working as this article does of getting you out of that lame ass pair of pizza boy shorts you like so much.

I remember when being yoked was how people knew you were a powerlifter, or your criminal record, or your eyes being blown out, and failed a piss test was regular.  Just because your weak ass can't do burpees, box jumps, and pull-ups don't mean you can just spend some cash and order up a "look; I'm a powerlifter because its cool kit." I hope you all blow a tricep off on your dick beating arm, weirdos.  FYFM