jesse-bro:

Coach requested that all his bros send him photo evidence that they were wearing the outfits he picked out for them. Every morning he would send instructions; today was blue basketball shorts and kicks. Every morning, each of the bros would snap a selfie, flexing and posing like the dumb jocks they were. This way it was easier to assimilate them into a unified group. No individuality, no uniqueness; they were all the same. Just a muscled dumb bro, same as all the others.

Haha, yeah? You want coach to pick your outfits out too? You know it’ll make you stupid, right? Giving up control of your life to another man, that’s a big step. Really? Okay, what’s your number, dummy?

Source: ballershorts

itsflyinglikeadragon:

I hated the office block my work had to be in. We had to be just above a gym where we would be all nice and quiet for most of the day and then you hear the sounds of weights being dropped by dumb asses on the floor bellow.

Thankfully the lift was quiet, and I got ready to see the lovely office. When the doors opened, I saw the gym. The doors closed but the lift didn’t move. I pressed the button. Nothing.

I pressed the doors open button. Nothing.

Oh great, stuck in a lift and I was going to be late. I heard the speaker say something, but I can’t remember. I heard a hissing sound and the lights go out. Or did I go out? I don’t remember.

I could feel something. I felt hands across my body. Oh great, what was going on. I hated my body and now I had this. Something was strange though, I felt a shirt being put on, but it was of a rubbery texture. And it was tight, incredibly tight. And getting tighter and tighter against my body.

I then felt a cap place on my head. That soothed me a bit, and then I felt some headphones on my head. The sounds were so nice, exercise gym mmmmm.

I woke up getting up in the lift, ready for the daily lift at the gym. Fucking pumped up and ready for this.

Source: mysweatylockerroom

hyphyphurray:

I was okay with being a long-term
planner. I could be a very patient guy when it suited my interests.
And now, after over a month of work, I’m ready to finally get even
with my jerk of a jock roommate, Jake.

See, after months of putting up with
Jake’s crap, my friend Zach was tired of listening to me complain. He
said it had gotten to the point where it was all I talked about, so
he offered a solution. Zach’s a brilliant behavioral scientist,
working on all kinds of weird projects. After one of my epic rants,
he opened up his backpack and took out a CD, which he thrust into my
hands.

“Here, John,” he said. “Play this
music around your apartment when you’re both around as much as you
can for a month or so. It’s laced with subliminal messages that will
implant a hypnotic trigger. Four or five weeks from now, I’ll never
have to hear you complain about Jake ever again.”

So, I went to work, blasting it
whenever we were both home. Now it’s been five weeks, and I’m ready
to put it to the test.

“You’re not sick of that damn CD
yet?” Jake groaned, poking his head into our living room. He had
just finished off one of his daily workouts in his room, and was
strutting about shirtless like he always did.

“You know what?” I said. “I think
maybe we have listened to it
enough.”

I
grinned and turned to him.

“Sleepy
time for you, Jake,” I said, ready to watch him slump down and go
slack-jawed. But Jake just stood there.  

Why
wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t he tranced? I mean, he was even
smiling! And why did I feel so… relaxed? And so… weak?

“There
you go, John,” Jake said, soothingly. “Just relax.”

I
slumped down onto the couch as Jake walked over to me.

“Looks
like it’s sleepy time for you, John,” Jake grinned.

I
felt all tension seeping out of my body, my shoulders pressing into
the couch.

“You
see,” Jake said, quietly. “Zach was tired of hearing you complain
all the time. So he decided that maybe you shouldn’t be so upset.
Maybe you should relax more, be happier.”

I
gave a tired half-smile. That sounded nice.

“So
he implanted a few triggers in that CD, just for you.”

Jake
was standing over me now.

“And
what’s happier than a Good Pup?”

My
mind melted away and a wave of euphoria washed over me as I slid to
all fours on the floor.

“There’s
my boy,” Jake cooed down at me. “There’s my good boy.”

I
looked up at Master and barked. He took out his phone and started
talking into it, the words barely registering with me as I sat at his
feet.

“Yeah,
Zach?” Master said. “You won’t be hearing any more complaints
from our good friend, John… Or as I think I’ll call him, Max.”

Master
smiled at me and scratched my ear. I sniffed in his strong Alpha
scent as he reached down.

“Good
boy.”

I was
in bliss.

megisaweirdo:

The internet is outraged over tragic loss of #CeciltheLion and for a very good reason – He was illegally poached by American, #WalterPalmer. Walt is a rich older white guy, a dentist, a big game hunter and – you guessed it – a major fucking douchebag. Here’s why:

1) He paid $50K to kill, skin, and behead a treasured African icon. Walt is apparently flush in murder money.
2) Palmer and team lured the great animal out of a protected reserve with bait and spot light to kill him. Illegal? You can say that again.
3) Cecil suffered for over 40 hours before Palmer tracked him down and finally killed him – for a trophy. Sickening.
4) Palmer was previously sentenced to a year of probation after lying about where he killed a black bear in Wisconsin a few years back. Walt clearly isn’t new to this game.
5) Palmer often goes after endangered big game, even killing a WHITE RHINO.
6) There are tons of photos circulating of Palmer posing with his dead endangered trophies. Google it if you want to see a grown man hugging bloody animal caucuses.
7) Cecil was part of longterm Oxford study and a major tourist attraction in Zimbabwe. The already hurting economy will surely suffer more.
8) Conservationists say that Cecil’s 5 cubs will likely be killed by the new Alpha male. So Walt really killed 6 lions in this illegal endeavor.
9) Locals serve 2-5 years for illegal poaching, but charges against Palmer have yet to be served.
10) There’s currently a manhunt underway in Zimbabwe to find Palmer. Why are you hiding, Walt?
11) According to a spokesperson for Palmer, he’s “upset” over the internet outrage and that the hunter has become the hunted. Sorry, Walt. You’re just a cruel asshole. It was a only a matter of time.

Just because you’re an old rich guy, doesn’t give you permission to do this heinous shit like this. Sign the petition to demand justice for Cecil and to end trophy hunting in Zimbabwe: http://bit.ly/1D6wBLu

#endtrophyhunting Photo: Paula French

Cause destroying the lives of animals, and the tourist economy doesn’t effect you if your rich, “hmm do the right thing? Or have this awesome lion skin on my wall?” This guy is an asshole

Source: megisaweirdo