Your Workout
is your time
Be Selfish
take what you need.
Yah man, you like what you see? Take a look at these abs, they for playing ball man. Rock hard bro abs, feel fucking good. You look like u want what I got…yeah boy, starin…that’s what I like to see.
Here’s my ballcap bro, slip it on. Niiice brah, cock it just a hare. Fuckin perfect now brah. That feel good? Cleveland Indians on ya head? That’s what I thought, can see it in your eyes. That cap is a relief to wear isn’t it? Making you feel good?
Keep it on brah, few hours from now u gonna be blastin through the weights wit me so u can be a fuckin pitcher…wit no brainz to think…yeah…I heard that moan bro, relax and let da ballplaya take over…
You better all fucking reblog this.
I got to reblog this, it’s true
Wow.
This may be the most important thing I’ve ever had on my blog.
This may be the most important post on tumblr.
this needs more notes.
These people are all over the internet I have found similar things on YouTube “if you actually enjoy this piece of shit video you might as well kill yourselves” I don’t understand it. Why does someone feel the need to tell someone to do that? In my opinion if you tell someone to do that, and they actually do, you basically murdered them or at least contributed. How would these assholes feel if they knew their comment was actually responsible for a death? Would you be able to live with yourself? Did you think you were being funny? I think anyone who wants to use the Internet to tell people to kill themselves should shut the fuck up and keep their opinions to themselves
Check out this map of where same sex marriage is legal.
Fuck Yeah America
For real or is this a joke?
Kevin walked into the construction yard. He was glad for the work since ti paid well, and he hadn’t had a job in six months. But it was his first time working like this, and he was terrified that he would screw it up.
The foreman, talking to one of hte works, saw him and came over. “Hey, Kevin! Welcome to the site. Good to you have you on the team.”
Kevin smiled nervously. “Good to be working, sir.”
The foreman raise an eyebrow. “I think you’ll do fine here,” he said, with a small conspiratorial smile Kevin didn’t understand. “I’ll have you working just to move material around at first, but keep your eyes open, and I’m sure you’ll learn some other tricks to get the better paying jobs. Over there are some bricks and rebar, and there’s a barrow. I need them there.” He pointed to a spot where three men were working on a wall.
“Yes sir,” Kevin said and got to work.
Over the course of the next hour, Kevin worked hard, but also noticed some odd things. No one seemed to talk. Oh sure, when someone needed something, they spoke up, but from the stories he’d heard, he expected ribald jokes, off-color stories and all kinds of rowdiness. He’d even tried to start a conversation to blot out the monotonous music that kept playing over the PA system between the foreman’s announcements, but every time all he got were a dead fish foice and a curt reply and got back to work. Some of them even seemed to be in a daze, like they didn’t know one moment from the next what they were going to do.
Weird, he thought as he moved more material to those who needed it. But I guess I can undestand it with that music playing.
He hated the music. The more he worked, the more dull and mind-numbing it became. Kevin shook his head and tried to work through it, but for each hour that he worked, it became harder and harder to resist the effect. He seemed to be going slower, and his eyes were glazing over a bit.
Gotta… keep… working... he thought sluggishly, trying to stay to task, but the music was seemingly everywehre. And as dull as it had seemed before, it seemed to be more and more irresistible. His head started bobbing in time with the slow beat as everyone on the worksite were already. His thoughts roiled in his head, trying to break from the lethargy the music seemed to cause.
Work… gotta work… gotta… keep… this… I… can’t… lose… myself… must… listen. He stopped dead, his arms hanging loose, his eyes crossing and unfocusing. He stood that way for ten minutes, absorbing all the music had to teach him. Then he turned and walked towards the foreman’s office.
“Yes Kevin, what is it?”
“I am reporting as instructed, sir,” Kevin said in a dreamy voice.
“Good,” the foreman replied. “Repeat your instructions.”
“You are my master. I obey your every order. I work for you and carry out all instructions. I have no need for outside contact. My master will provide, as he does for my brethren. I have no interests outisde what my master instructs. I must only work and obey,” Kevin rattled off, the dreamy tone of his voice becoming replaced with a hard, flat tone as the music continued to bury these instructions deep into his mind.
The foreman leaned over to his mic and spoke into it. “Indoctrination of new worker is complete. Return to original instructions.”
Every man not working with a blowtorch on site stopped, ripped over their shirts, and then went back to work.
“My first standing instruction, Kevin, is that unless you are working with something that can burn you, you will wear no shirt.”
Without hesitation, Kevin ripped his shirt off as well.
“Good. Return to work, Kevin. Once the shift is over, we’ll show you what else we get up to on off hours, and I’ll help you arrange moving in with us.”
Kevin turned and walked back to where he was working carrying items, his face impassive, thinking of nothing but the same, endlessly repeating music…
Brett skated along the back alleys, working his board and trying some tricks. It was a hot lazy Sunday afternoon, and he finally had time to get away from work and have some time to practice. Brett had a dream to become a famous skater. When he could escape from his burger flipping job, he took every opportunity to do street tricks and grinds. He kept himself lean, his weight low, and he hoped that some day he could get good enough to go pro and dump his crappy job.
As he skated along, he slipped his headphones over his ears. He had heard that some skaters used self-affirmation MP3s to give them the edge they needed to pull their best tricks. He’d found this one online, which promised to calm fears and nervousness. He flipped his player on, and some dull, ethereal sounding music started playing.
Well, I guess it’s calming, although I would have thought that words or something would have been better. I mean this… sort of music… just makes me… sleepy.
Brett continued to skate, but a distracted look came across his face, as the music seem to make him zone out, unable to really think about anything.The track ended, and Brett blinked.
That was really weird. It felt like he’d been hollowed out inside his head. But, as he thought back, he’d realized he’d done some of the best tricks ever. He reviewed his performance as he skated to a car, and then more as he drove.
I guess I must have been overthinking. What, where am I? Whose car is this? He’d be so focused on reviewing his performance that he hadn’t noticed where he was.
He hadn’t realized it, but Brett hadn’t left his total focus state since the track ended. It was as if his subconscious mind seemed to be distracting him with other things so that it could control his movements. Even now as he stopped in front of a nondescript warehouse, he was so focused on trying to figure out where he was that he didn’t notice himself getting out of the car and going into the warehouse while taking all his stuff with him.
As he entered, Brett started to regain his own focus. Who cares where I am; what the else am I doing? He stopped dead in the entryway to the warehouse, finally exerting his full control. But it was far too late, because as he did, the white walls of the room blossomed into whirling spirals, and the same music from the MP3 he downloaded began playing from the speakers. Brett got distracted for but a second, and his subconscious jumped at the chance, directing all his attention to the spiral spinning in front of him. Brett’s conscious mind, bombarded by the music and the spiral, focused totally on both of them and emptied.
After 30 minutes of programming, the spirals switched off, and a voice came over the PA system, speaking over the entrancing system.
“You have been chosen, my boy, to be my new muscle slave. Now, I know that you wanted to be a skater boi, but frankly, those are boring. And besides, what you want isn’t really important anymore, is it?”
“Not important.”
“And what is important?”
“That I must listen and obey.”
“Perfect. Trust me, in a few weeks, you won’t care about what you used to want. Now, in the next room, you’ll find some food, a pill, and some water. Eat those, and then I’ll instruct you on your workout.”
“I understand.”
Brett walked through that door, his mind so totally focused on the music that he was unable to resist.
Cmon Urfrelaxin, just fall into my hypnotrap
You are my dominant big brother, Devlin
You Love to be in control
You love your little brother
Love to control him
Youre a strong dominant man
You Love to dominate and control
You’re no longer submissive
You are my master
You are my big brother
You want me as your pup
You need to control me
500 posts!
what you grinnin about boy? your new team the Sox?
uhh…yeah…they playin today?
fuck bro, ya they are…sit down man, watch the game wit me
huhu…yeah…there they are. fuck, up by three points…uh…..
bro, keep it straight, it’s runs dummy, up three runs
yah bro, runs…shit…YEAHHH….a homer for Pedey…..
that’s my bro, Pedey’s the shit
yah, Sox….my team…
that’s right boy
Muscle Tf Lover 