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Tuesday, 30 August 2011

I can only apologise...

...about my long absence. As well as being a gigantic moron I've been busy with lifting, sport, women and other things. I'll post again before Thursday. On Thursday I'll be going to Brighton for a night out.

Overly camp people beware.

Friday, 19 August 2011

The gym

Afternoon loyal followers,

Just had a bowl of tuna mayo before I hit the gym and thought it would be poetic to write a rage post on things that annoy me in the gym, just before I go... to the gym.

My gym has a pitiful 10% of it's area dedicated to free weights, with only a freaking Smith Machine and 30 or so Dumbells. The rest of the gym is filled with shitty isolation machines that aren't much use for anyone who isn't doing rehab training, a few cardio machines and half a fucking room dedicated to some 'post workout warm down massage machine' set up which may as well be called the 'ROOM FULL OF BULLSHIT'. The sad thing is, people actually use these machines in the belief that they are 'cooling down' and 'toning'. They are placebo machines, they do not burn fat. For a start, there is NO SUCH THING as spot reduction. So it doesn't matter how many times the machine moves your arms up and down, it will not suddenly make those rubbery bingo wings disappear. If you want to lose weight, you need to change your diet and lose OVERALL body fat %. This is the ONLY way to lose weight on any area, you need to lower OVERALL body fat. Ever see someone with horrible fat legs and arms but a shiny 6 pack? No, because spot reduction is a MYTH.

People who bang the weights do my nut in. Fair enough, if the weight is heavy and you are really struggling, drop it, it's understandable. I don't want to sound like a Planet Fitness fanboy (I'm British, not American, but the legend of the Lunk Alarm has reached my ears), but dropping weights simply to show everybody that you've been lifting a particular weight is just moronic. I don't give a shit whether you've just been curling 1kg or 100kg, I'm busy doing my own exercises. But no, you feel the need to irritate the fuck out of me. *BANG* "Herp derp herpy derpy lookie here I just leefted this weight, lowered it to within 2cm of the ground then dropped it so people look over hur hur huuuuur".

The shitty music they put on at the gym. I can only assume it's for the cardio bunnies who are bored moving their legs around against minimal resistance on the exercise bikes, not even coming close to being out of breath or sweating. When I'm lifting heavy weights I don't want stupid Cheeky Girls or fucking Katy Perry in the background. Put something energetic on. I hate metal but it would be better than that shit they play now. If it was upto me I would play the screams of dying men over and over and over on the speakers to frighten the people out of the gym who simply go for the novelty of telling friends they 'work out'. When 'working out' consists of cycling on the exercise bike at 1 resistance for 15 minutes whilst reading OK magazine. Fuck off.

Oh and another thing. People who sweat ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE. How are you producing so much sweat? I walk over to benchpress and the entire bench is covered in warm, sticky sweat from the last flubbermonster who was here. I love getting a good pump on and sweating whilst I'm lifting but I have the decency to wipe down all the equipment with a towel once I'm done with it. But no, we get Hairy McSweatbuckets pouring his reeking sweat over every single fucking item in the gym before moving on. Is it SO FUCKING DIFFICULT? Wipe down, you disgusting mess. I don't want to sit down and slide off the bench because you've apparently pissed yourself or something. Must be piss because no freak alive would sweat that fucking much.

Fuck this, off to the gym.

Sunday, 14 August 2011

New layout

Welcome to the new layout. It's alright. I think it shows my sensitive side well.

New rage post shall be arriving tonight or tomorrow. Or possibly later. I don't know. All I know is that it will be angry. Very. Fucking. Angry.

Thursday, 11 August 2011

Things that piss me off about footballers (diving)

Sorry for the downtime folks I've been busy, out and about.

Anywho, welcome to todays edition of Raging Time where this edition will be all about FOOTBALL, and footballers diving in particular. At this point, I should point out I am talking about PROPER football, not the funny egg game played by Americans in fat suits. You know, rugby with lots of padding. That one. It's not that. It's FOOTBALL. I'm not saying football is manlier than American Football. But Rugby is.

Football is my favourite sport, both to watch and play. But some things footballers do just make me want to pack the sport in altogether.

Diving/being a weak bastard. See Ronaldo/entire Arsenal team. What the fuck are you doing? As soon as they get a little tap on the ankle then throw themselves to the floor like a fucking ragdoll, giving off screams gutwrenching enough to scare local children away. They then precede to spend the next 5 minutes either holding the 'injured' area and wincing in pain with a look that suggests a bullet may have just blasted through the injured players ball sack or lying limp and lifeless on the floor, apparently dead. Within about half a second of the physio arriving on the field, the player then HEROICALLY hauls himself to his feet. He's such a strong, brave guy. He then limps off the pitch at about half a millimeter an hour, dragging his feet behind him in a scene reminiscent of any old war film, we'll say Saving Private Ryan for reference. After finally hauling his bleeding aching corpse across the pitch, he then promptly falls to the ground before whispering a few words to the physio, probably along the lines of 'that guy in the crowd sure looks pissed off at my Oscar worthy performance just there don't he hur'. The physio then pulls out the fabled MAGIC SPRAY. It's a simple aerosol can spraying mist, but when applied to the wounded and lifeless limb of the 'injured' player, it becomes magical. One the magical spray is administered, the wounded man suddenly leaps to his feet, stretches out his leg, gives one final pretend wince and then signals to the referee. 'Yes, referee. I am strong. I will man through this intense pain and carry on'. Within 30 seconds of returning to the play, the same player receives another light touch and heads for the grass once more. And so the cycle resumes.


Saturday, 6 August 2011


I appear to have somehow managed to delete my housemates post. How clumsy can I get?

I'll post again in the next day or so, pretty busy at the moment.

Keep smiling.

Thursday, 4 August 2011

I have returned.

I have returned (with a venegance).

My latest post should be up sometime tonight, tune in later on.

Tonights rant could be about anything. Suggest something.

Something like Sport.
Something like housemates.
Something like Gym Stories.
Something like Driving peeves.
Something like lists.

Monday, 1 August 2011

Away for a couple of days

I'm away for a couple of days so you'll have to wait until Thursday for another dose of anger. In the meantime, watch this video. He's almost as angry as me.