*Get Fucking Motivated! Randomness, Volume 2.

So, runes aren't your bag? Well, they work like a motherfucker for me. If that's not gonna get you psyched, here are some other suggestions.

Pray about it. I don't mean that you should fall to your fucking knees in the middle of the gym, weeping and wailing and acting like a fucking general asshole, but just think a silent prayer to whatever gods of your ancestors you might want to beseech. In my opinion, if you're head's in the wrong place, this sort of thing is a good idea, as at the very least, it gets you focussed. You might not get any magical boost in power from a fantastical source, but you will get your head right before a big lift.

I personally don't recommend Yahweh for this job- he's pretty much the patron saint of skinny martyrs and slaves. If that offends you, suck it up- it's the truth. I'm of the opinion you should get a little more old school in your prayers, and think back to when big, brutal motherfuckers roamed the Earth seeking good old fashioned adventures chock full of brigandage, with the rapine and pillaging and the beheadings. making the streets run red with rivers of Ron Burgundy's blood. That sort of thing. If you're of Jewish descent though, and you really need the old Semitic god of Thunder, salt pillars, and spite on your side, you might want to read up on the Old Testament and find the appropriate passages.

For the rest of you, I suggest picking a god of your heritage and giving him or her big ups. Why? I think it activates some primal part of your brain, the kind of brain that doesn't give a fuck about helping old ladies across the street, but just wants to break shit and ruin lives.

Some suggestions:

Norse/Germanic:
Tyr- The god of single combat, and pretty much the hardest person of Germanic blood ever to walk the Earth, this motherfucker is the MAN for psyching up for lifts. ChAoS&PAIN approved, right here. As he had one hand bitten off by a giant wolf in an effort to save the Earth, maybe a good choice for unilateral lifts...


Thor- Norse god of thunder, this badass slab of Germanic muscle is generally acknowledged as a true hardass, and would be a great patron god of GPP work with the sledge, since he's known to slay motherfuckers with a bigass hammer.

Freya- Goddess of love, sex, war, and beauty, she's important to pretty much everything that involves testosterone.

Japanese:
Hachiman- The Japanese god of war, this motherfucker brooks no shit from anyone. If there was ever a Japanese person capable of squatting a house WHILE disemboweling his mother-in-law for running her mouth, it's him.

Hindu:

Shiva- It gets no better than Shiva, since he is the destroyer of worlds. Use his power to destroy gym records.

Russian:

Perun- The head of the Slavic pantheon, Perun is pretty much a combination of Tyr and Thor, only he carries a big assed axe and crushes serfs under his boots.

Aztec:
Camaxtli/ Mixcoatl- The Aztec gods of war and hunting. Kind of a pain in the ass to deal with in the gym, as they were generally given human sacrifices. Maybe a weak lifting partner? Up to you.

I don't get it either.

Xochipilli- Aztec god of competition and beauty, a perfect fit for bodybuilders in particular. If you love lucha libre and have a bug up your ass to be oily and in a thong in front of your friends, he's your man.

Celtic:

Dagda- This Irish fucker could kill 9 men at once with his magical club, and is the Celtic father god. Good times.


Morrigan/ Nemian- Irish fitness competitors should be psyched about this broad, as she is the Celtic goddess of war, and is associated with the Valkyries, who were badass bitches, not unlike The chicks in the movie D.O.A., hot and hard as nails.

Greek/ Roman:

Herecles- You know who he is. Recognize.

Enyo- A goddess of was thought to have been the mother or sister of Ares, usually pictured toplessx, covered in blood, and carrying weapons.

Hermes/ Mercury- Patron gods of greasy-haired athletes.

Apollo- Much like the god of lucha libre enthusiasts listed above, only for those who believe that Windex cures all ills, or those who call marinara sauce "gravy", Baldur was the god of beauty. the Frank Zane of the gods.

Next time- magic stones, and a bunch of other random shit. The key, however, is that motivation can pretty much come from anywhere... it's just all about finding out what works for you, and then using that to crush the opposition.

----------------
Now playing: Recon - Revenge
via FoxyTunes

*If this doesn't fucking motivate you...

nothing will. By request, my safety bar squats, in a cast. Bear in mind when watching the rather high nature of this effort that it was the third time I had safety bar squatted, so all you ATG guys, settle the fuck down. While I'm at it, I'd like to mention that the ATG guys couldn't even manage to stand under this weight anyway, so their point is fucking moot 9 times out of 10 anyhow. ATG is an acronym, for those who don't know, for "ass to grass", and a clandestine way of explaining why the person claiming ATG can't outsquat a six year old girl with polio.




By the way, unless you want to watch me wander around for a minute, fast forward about 2/3 of the way. I have neither the interest, nor the software, to edit that thing, haha.

The moral of this video is that nothing, not even a botched tricep surgery and a cast and a shitload of demerol, should get in the way of a good squat workout. Or at least a heavy squat workout. Heavy, for all intents and purposes, equals good.


That is all.

----------------
Now playing: rhinoceros - No One Will Hear You Scream
via FoxyTunes

Do not read if in a good mood.

Ok, stuff sucks. Phew! At least I got that out of the way right away.

Its summer, Toronto garbage strike, Etsy problems, wedding screw ups, traveling, job hunting, sensitive skin, people being idiots, my computer imploding...GAH!!! I could go on and on. WOE IS ME.

Here is a painting that has been sitting unfinished for weeks...

Its currently wet with its first coat of varnish and its at its most screw-upable. Little fuzzies, blobs, smears and bubbles stay the heck away from my varnish. I am SO not in the mood for it!!!

If it wasn't for the nightly baby raccoon party directly outside my window, I would be kicking puppies and slapping old ladies.

Can't all be sweetness and cakes can it? :-P

Summer. (Also, pics, more pics. And some MORE pics.) the ePIC pic journey!

Sooo. This was summer for me:-

Having an AWESOME time with an AWESOME group of pals... Sleepovers, LOADS of cigarettes, LOADS of tea-bar addas, loads of rooftop(or otherwise) booze, and booze plans.

Getting out of a damaging relationship.

Also, graduating with a 67% in English hons(and scoring a 70% in this sem!! woohoo!! yes. for all ye ignorant people, 60% in the Arts is considered good, 65% very good, and 70% woohoo material...) from one of the most prestigious English departments in the country, and definitely THE most prestigious English dept in the city... Came in the top ten of the batch... :D PLUS, I get to write a B.A. after my name now~!! -BRAG BRAG- Here's to JUDE! Cheers!!!

Getting into Masters in the same University! Looking forward to the two optional papers I've selected for MA first sem(apart from the two core papers)- Death in the Western Civilization!! (Major gothdom expected!!! xD And AND AND Course co ordinator is Supriya Chaudhuri, one of my favourite profs! yay!!), and Image and Text!! (which'll focus primarily on graphic novels{including Sandman and Persepolis} and Manga!!!) -does an impromptu jig-
Looking forward also to two whole years of fun, hanging out, birdwatching, junkiemonkeying, Metalhead-ing, guitaring, partying, cribbing, gossiping, crying, laughing and dating!! But most of all, looking forward to a fresh new start, with new people, new beginnings and new outlooks. :) Some relationships really do come with an expiry date... and when they reach it, you start getting suffocated, and that's when you know it's probably good for everyone in the scene to just tie up the ends and close the book. Other relationships are meant to last, for the better or for the worse, or even for the boring-er. Whatever it is, I hope more relationships in my life last, that I can accept more people with their shortcomings, and that my boredom threshold and getting-irritated threshold don't remain so fucking SMALL. :P

There have been just a handful of days, or even less than that, when I've NOT been out with friends. I laaik. ^_^

Mayoori wishes to thank Moyna and Murgi and Kowwni for all they've done for Mayoori!! Life's changed, and... if it hadn't been for these people, I wouldn't have been in the mood to type this post out. You guys have been there, and we've all individually been through turbulent times... And in the end we've decided to come out of it alive...together! :D Cheers!!!

On the whole, summer's been fun and interaction, turbulence and learning, decisions and knowing, changing and exploring. Summer's been a change. And I daresay a MUCH much needed one. (:

And here. are. the summer interlude pics! (PS: these are snaps of only three of our FoolingAround-Days. [Look at our outfits :P, you'll know]... I'd have needed an aeon to upload ALL the snaps... of ALL the days...)
one of the many canteens in Ze College!!


mallhoppin'. me with annie!

chaa bar.


me. chaa bar. our favourite hangout space as of now...


our beloved ledges. on a HOT day. (PS. DON'T ask me about that hairband!! It's been my saving grace throughout summer... You have NO clue how terrible the sweat and heat is in Kolkata, and you have NO clue how thankful I am to something that keeps my fringes/bangs off my face!


blue brigade plus a motley. from left, kanny, me, srooti, annie.


weirdfacecontest!


soup!


babyface contest. with kanny.


jadis and rdsherlock. ze bloggers' night out with ze gemelina!!


the world through a carnival mask!


with reema. and cornetto...


with sruti. don't remember where...


the world behind them... :P


the furies!!!


the glares that were too large for my face.. -sob sob-

Also, here are some amateurish collages I did without photoshop... :'( Will have to reinstall that saviour! Please click on the pics!! Fullview plz!






Summer also saw family parties and weddings. Here be partypics.
woohoo for vodka in wacky plastic glasses!!!


them.


yes he's really my lil bro. and yes im really smiling that stupid grin...


elevator.


i WON'T give a caption to this one!


x_x


mom and cuz.


us ^_^


royal couch and royal-er hooligans! me with cousins...


dinner time babay...


weird face contest again!!! with bro and cousin.


chyaang dola. that's me favourite lil cousin...


rahul. (:

*Get Fucking Motivated! Randomness Vol. 1

Here I was, perusing a bunch of New Age books in search of alternative methods of getting so pumped up that you could slaughter legions of your enemies, Arnold-in-Commando-style, when it occurred to me that I knew of a way, right offhand, that'd work. From there, I built it up into a wide array of odd motivations which you guys might or might not use, but I'll wager my right testicle and all 34 cents in my pocket that you'd find interesting enough to put off the completion of that excel spreadsheet you're working on long enough to read this.

My very first tattoo was an effort to utilize the religion of my ancestors to my benefit in the gym. My ancestors, if you couldn't guess by opening your eyes and looking at me, were Germanic, and they took no shit from anyone. Their religion centered upon this general theme as well, and though they didn't impose it upon the peoples who they conquered and slaughtered, because clearly they weren't man enough to worship Germanic Gods, they used it to their benefit daily. My tattoo? Two runes in elder Futhark that serve as a bindrune of my own creation consisting of runic wishes and talismen whose power I evoke my using incantations, and by wearing them. Now, that might serve as some wacky fucking witchcraft horseshit to you, but I'd imagine Benny Podda would be right there next to me ripping out your entrails and feeding them to your children as an object lesson if you found yourself making light of them. Why? They fucking work, for one, and they're fucking metal, for another.

Lemme tell you why. For one, I believe they work. Whether or not that is a placebo effect or not is immaterial, because the outcome is the same. For another, it's in my blood to believe in them and use them. The Norse and Germans utilized the Runes, which were discovered by Odin after impaling himself upside down with his own speak onto the Tree of Knowledge for them, and after ripping out one of his eyes as payment for other knowledge. the man was a fucking beast. Anyway, they were used from pre-Christian times until the 13th Century, were primarily used for divination and runestones, and consist of 24 letters (in Elder Futhark, one of three runic types).

My tat consists of two runes- Teiwaz (Tyr) and Uruz. Tyr is the creator god of the Germanic peoples, and warriors used to call upon him to grant them courage and righteousness to secure victory. He was a model of masculine honor and courage and his rune was the phallic symbol of procreative energy, so as you can imagine, this is the perfect badass to call upon in times of strength events or epic nights of fucking. In addition to invoking courage and brutal hardons, Tyr is connected with the astrological symbol Libra (my symbol), and the color red, like the blood of your enemies, or the color all over your shins after a set of deads so brutal your kids are left retarded and the bar has to be brushed with a brillo pad to disinfect it. In essence, my ideal fucking symbol.

Uruz signifies an aurochs, and for those of you who don't know, they were wild bulls that roamed Europe until the 17th Century and were described as "slightly smaller than an elephant" by Julius Caesar, not a man given to a great deal of hyperbole. Uruz means strength, courage, skill, and determination, and represents primal force.

Together, they fill you will all of the badassitude of ten Chuck Norrises, and that's why I put them on my wrist. When I feel like I need a little boost, I concentrate on those symbols, which I conveniently located on my wrist so I can see them while lifting, and it's on like fucking Donkey Kong.

That's just one of the many things I use to pump me up for a lift, and an idea of the kind of wacky shit you fuckers can use to get you psyched. In an effort to cover all of the bases, I've done a bunch of research on alternative methods to become a bonafide Godzilla of lifting, and shall share them with you in installments, as it's been brought to my attention that my blogs typically rival David Copperfield in length, and as I find Dickens to have been a verbose hack with no skill whatsoever at writing, I'll shoot for brevity and keep this one to half a million words. More to come, fuckers...

----------------
Now playing: On Broken Wings - On Violins

**Shit You've Never Tried Before #1- Steinborn Squats

Though it's been talked about on other sites before, I doubt you've ever had Steinborn Squats presented to you quite like this. First off, I'll mention that the following pics were taken of me when I lived in the frozen hellhole known as Cleveland, several years, about ten pounds, and several percentage points of bodyfat ago. That stated, I'm no Johnny Come Lately to this fucking exercise. I'm not saying I was there when Henry Steinborn invented the fucking things, but Ive been doing them longer than anyone at Diesel Crew or Straighttothebar, insofar as I know, and this exercise is a fucking man-maker.

Before I get into the whys and wherefores of how they're done, I'll tell you why I do them, why they were invented, and why I'm posting this blog, after so many fucking yahoos have blathered on about the exercise.

First, I'm posting this because some whiny bitch on Bodyspace was bemoaning the fact that he couldn't squat because he had no rack, and innumerable goofballs suggested such retarded shit as loading the barbell onto a dip station. Don't bother with any of that. Be a fucking man and do a Steinborn Squat.

These things were invented for the simple reason that no one had a squat rack back in the day, and Henry Steinborn was too fucking manly to be bothered with silly shit like leg presses, sissy squats, or leg extensions. Instead, he loaded up a fucking barbell and manned the goddamned thing up. Eventually, that fucker was Steinborn squatting 500 lbs, and being generally so fucking hard that babies wilted and died in his presence and women would involuntarily give up their virginity to him.

Why'd I start doing them? I read about them, and Steinborn, in an old school lifting book and they looked like someone who wanted to eat plate steel and shit pins would do. Thus, I began doing them, and my lifting partner decided to take pics to try out his new camera.

How to do them:

1. Be a fucking badass.


2. Load up a barbell with at least 135, and put on collars. tight collars. In fact, collars are the limiting factor here, which is why I'm only using 225 in the pics. 315 kept pushing the collars off, and I didn't have any good locking collars.


3. Stand bar on one end.


4. Lean into bar with legs bent.


5. Set bar onto your traps, and bend legs further, pulling the bar into place on your back.


6. By now, you should be in a full squat with the bar on your back. Start squatting.


7. Reverse all the steps to get it back onto the ground.


8. Rape and pillage.

----------------
Now playing: I Declare War - Nworb Ydoc
via FoxyTunes