smash_logs | PUT AWAY YOUR SHAKE WEIGHT. GET A REAL WORKOUT. BE A REAL MAN. OR WOMAN. GO LIFTING WITH MAX.

Who: Max and YOU and your intense feelings of inadequacy.
What: WORKING OUT IN THE WEIGHT ROOM
Where: THE WEIGHT ROOM
When: EVERY TIME August 8th - 21st
Warnings: 150% TESTOSTERONE. Max may swear at some point.

After spending two weeks as a venusaur, and not being able to work out, Max returned to his normal self. He could still feel the shameful, shameful potbelly that he used to have as a venusaur. Two weeks of not working out is like two weeks of wasted life for Max. And now he doesn't have all of those darned classes to take getting in the way of getting in a real workout. As if somehow six hours of weightlifting a day hadn't been a real workout before.

So anyway. Max is pretty much living in the weight room when he isn't doing his cardio in the mornings, having a meal, or sleeping. Or teaching the occasional class. But he's happy to take out some time to show new students around the weight room, or to help the less muscular set up some sort of workout routine. Need a spotter for the bench press? Max is your man. He may be wearing a tank top that says this on it.

((START A THREAD, GIVE A TIME, PUT ON YOUR HEADBANDS AND GYM SHORTS, AND TURN UP THE CLASSIC ROCK-SLASH-PUNK. YOU'RE IN MAX'S WORLD NOW.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That tank top only tells the truth, Vinnie. Truth and verity. Max was, indeed, a flexpert.

And yes, he was. It's what he does with everyone he knows and likes.

"Do you like being a sleepy, tired ass every morning or would you rather get some sunshine in on your shoulders and arms?" Max asked.

Indeed, tank tops have never been known to spread falsehood.

Also, Max that was a little disturbing. Especially since they were already a little too similar in their teenage temperment than he would've liked.

"I'd like t'get sun on my back, but you don't let me," he pointed out.

But he couldn't deny that some extra sunshine would be nice. Sigh. "...I'm gonna be paying for these goddamn shirts myself, aren't I."

Edited 2011-08-15 03:28 (UTC)

This is the reason why you should be more like Max. You have so much potential. To be the greatest guy.

"That's because regulations say you gotta wear a shirt," said Max. "And I follow regulations."

"But tank tops count as shirts in my book. And yeah, you're payin' for 'em."

Edited 2011-08-15 03:32 (UTC)

You realize that Vinnie's ambitions in life basically add up to 'being a dirty forest hippie,' right Max?

There was a little debate going on between Vinnie's love for delicious sunlight and his need to save as much money as possible to not be indebted to Max anymore. It was a tough choice, considering how sunlight would make being indebted to Max somewhat easier. A little solar power went a long way.

"Maybe one or two," he allowed at last, hoping it would satisfy Max.

TIME FOR A NEW LIFE AMBITION. YOUR NEW AMBITION IS FOR 25 INCH BICEPS. THEN YOU CAN PUNCH FORESTS INTO BEING.

"Alright, I'll take you to the mall so you can get some sometime when you're free," said Max.

"You ain't free right now."

He reached down into his dufflebag, and tossed about 30 pages held together by some overworked staples at Vinnie.

"That's your liftin' routine for the next two weeks, down to ten minute slots of time and exactly what you should be liftin', how much, and how many sets. I feel it's reasonable."

If you are a musclehead like Max. It is reasonable.

I GUESS PUNCHING FORESTS TO LIFE WOULD BE PRETTY COOL...

Vinnie caught the workout guide with both hands and proceeded to flip through the first few pages. Monday, it seemed, was bicep day. Every type of curl and press imaginable, with the weights increasing every 10 reps.

It was hard to suppress the grimace now. Fucking hell. Well, if nothing else, Vinnie had ~~an increased stat in~~ physical endurance. He grabbed his water bottle and bag, with bench press at the top of the list.

"Hngh. You gonna spot me?"

Monday is also chest and forearms and abs, Vinnie. Really, abs is every-other day. But there are other things in there, too. The bench press is for your chest anyway. Silly Vinnie.

"Yeah, gonna have to, ain't I? You're gonna need it by the third set of your bench."

Okay, every day was every muscle. Max was every muscle. Muscle muscle muscle.

Another deep sigh. "Great," muttered Vinnie.

~~Then he fell to Max's feet, sobbing impotently.~~

What's with the glum face? This is weightlifting. There's no frowns here, only manly scowls of exertion followed by the blissful joy of feeling the burn.

"Alright, let's get to it," weightlifting coach Max said. "You've got a lot to get through, and you ain't gonna do it just standin' there."

PUT AWAY YOUR SHAKE WEIGHT. GET A REAL WORKOUT. BE A REAL MAN. OR WOMAN. GO LIFTING WITH MAX.

Light of life

Bi of ceps

Pec of Torals

Del of the honourable house of Toids

Lord Ab, earl of Dominals

Baron von Pec

We already did pecs, Toni. You're losing it. But have a pecs icon anyway.

I FEEL MADNESS SETTING IN

NO, THAT BEGAN WHEN YOU FIRST DECIDED TO APP.