The couch thread

[syaigh]

Oh Shari-Baby
Why have you forsaken me
Don't like floppy Tits

[WildGorillaMan]

Cert bunny pass'd round
like gin at a hobo camp
Mrs. Couch moves out

[___________]

Here comes Andro Friday!
Fucking a', it's been a rough week, I needz me sum @Fit skank milfdom to brighten up my day.

[syaigh]

Did you know Poe did @fit?

In a warehouse dark and dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over the many half nude women and tattooed guys, a major bore ,
While I stumbled, nearly napping, suddenly there came a slapping,
As of some one gently fwapping, tapping on an andro whore.
‘Tis some lame douchebag ,' I muttered, `tapping on an andro whore -
Only this, and nothing more.'

About to puke, I found the shitter, when I laid mine eyes on one less fitter,
A gin-swelled beast, the monstrous Couch, on his mouth a herpes sore.
He held on to the door for stead; looking for someone to bed;
His face alight, from drinking, red, waited by the warehouse door –
Listing, like the chalkboard lecture, just inside the warehouse door -
Waited, sat, and nothing more.

The andro bunnies, always flitting, began sitting, began sitting
On the floor in front of Couch-Beast, just inside the warehouse door;
And their eyes have all the seeming, of a nympho that is scheming,
How she’ll fake her pleasure screaming; For power? Money? Nothing more.
But can they lift the gin-limp biscuit, like the previous douchebag score?
Without Viagra, Nevermore!

[WildGorillaMan]

First rate, Syaigh.

[WildGorillaMan]

Has the whole 300, Spartan obsession died out yet? If not:

We mimicked Spartans, you take heed:
We lie here Rhabdo'ed, our urine bleeds.

[syaigh]

I knew you were a Renaissance man.

Where’s my RRG?
I paid one thousand dollars!
My license to kill!

[powerlifter54]

From the Nuggets Section and long ago...

Saw somebody in gym doing horrible looking lightweight oly lifts as part of a circuit.

i felt chilled to the bone because i knew what was coming. i couldn't stop from asking what they were doing. @fit.

So...

Once upon an afternoon dreary, while I trained, incredibly weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of Westside lore,
While I rested, nearly napping, suddenly there came a slapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at the weightroom floor.
" 'Tis some mullet," I muttered, "slapping at my weightroom floor;
Only this, and nothing more."


Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the month before September,
And each separate writhing mullet wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my Ipod surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the mullets on the floor
For the rare and radiant Couch who makes them pukey and oh so sore,
Nameless here forevermore.


And the silken sad fate jangling from each bumper plate
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some Mullet entreating entrance at my weightroom door,
Some X-games wannabee entreating entrance at my weightroom door.
This it is, and nothing more."


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was training, and so gently you came straining,
And so loudly you came slapping, slapping weights on my weightroom flloor
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Pukey there, and nothing more.


Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Couch?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
@fit... Merely this, and nothing more.

[syaigh]

=D> =D> =D>

[powerlifter54]

=D> =D> =D>

Thx.

Love me some EAP...

Some more EAP from the hands of PL54 and kreator...

One reason why the couch thread will never die. The pendulum will always swing quietly, coming closer and closer to the couch.

A Case of Dumbass

THE thousand injuries of the drones I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely, settled --but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.

It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Couch cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my wont, to smile at his insults, and he did not perceive that my smile now was at the thought of his immolation.

He had a weak point -- this Couch -- although in other regards he was a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his connoisseurship in broads, bottles, and domains. Few Californians have the true virtuoso spirit. For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity, to practise imposture upon the weak minded douchebags and hot soccer moms so frequent in those sunny environs. In gait,grooming, and erudition Couch, like his fellow left Coasters, was a quack, but in the matter of old Gymnastic injuries he was sincere. In this respect I did not differ from him materially; --I was experienced in both injury and alchohol, and preferred the icy chillednectar of the Juniper bush to a grueling workout whenever I could not forebear.

It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.

I said to him --"My dear Couch, you are luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking to-day. But I have received peer reviewed, correlated, and allegedly conclusive Fitness data that passes for Science, and I have my doubts."

"How?" said he. "Conclusive, Peer reviewed? Impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!"

"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full Buddy Lee Jumprope cert price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be found, and I was fearful of continuing in my morbid obesity and weak underperformance."

"Peer Reviewed?"

"I have my doubts."

"Correlated?"

"And I must satisfy them."

"allegedly conclusive Fitness data?"

"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Greg Everett's upcoming symposium in Sunnyvale. If any one has a critical turn it is he. He will tell me --"

"Everett cannot tell Data from Sherry."

"And yet some fools will have it that his brillaince is a match for your own.

"Come, let us go."

"Whither?"

"To the Summit."



“Proceed,” I said; “herein is the Black Box Summit. As for Everett ——”

“He is a novice weightlifter” interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In an instant he had reached the extremity of the gym, and finding his progress arrested by the stack of bumper plates, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the squat rack. In its surface were two steel gymnastics rings, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. Throwing the rings about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the straps I stepped back from the rack.

“Pass your hand,” I said, “over the bar; you cannot help feeling the 95#. Indeed, it is very heavy. Once more let me implore you to complete the Fran. No? Then I will positively leave you. But I must first render you all the little attentions in my power.”

“The Summit!” ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.

“True,” I replied; “the Summit.”

In pace requiescat!

[WildGorillaMan]

Great minds clearly think alike.

[WildGorillaMan]

There are strange things done in the Prescott sun
By the Couch whose tales are bold
The Crossfit Games have seen such pains
That would make your kidneys fold
The mainpage WOD has been quite odd
But the oddest I ever did see
Was that night in a Box with an Andro fox
That I rhabdo’ed AND blew out my knee

[DrDonkeyLove]

Alone with my gin
Surrounded by the mindless
Comfort me true friend
__________________________________

Asstro defend us
Black Box heretic choke down
Affable you are
_________________________________

Broken hands
Broken feet
broken kidneys
We're elite
________________________________

[Botototo]

McGee!

[syaigh]

Brilliant! Keep them coming!

Powerlifter, love the edited version!

Poe is awesome, I wrote a redneck version a while back:

In a trailer dark and dreary, I was on my fifteenth beery,
As I'd done the previous evening and the Saturday night before.
While I nodded, nearly napping, the bug light on my porch was zapping,
My hound from my spilled beer was lapping, lapping from my trailer floor.
Til he was drunk as I and napping, napping on my trailer floor,
We slept like this 'til after four.

But, back to the couch, limerick style:

Couch drank the gin and the port
Then drank mouthwash as last resort
Finding chalkboard and chalk
Couch proceeded to talk
That’s why surgery is now a sport

[friedquads]

I'm feeling so cultured.

*looks for the Start Button to Andro Friday*

[WildGorillaMan]

There was a Crossfitter named Dee
Who bought a large vial of Winny
her lifts were morose
so she tripled her dose
and now she stands up to pee

[WildGorillaMan]

NFW am I rewriting the entire Rime of the Ancient Mariner, so here's a brief couplet:

Begone thou gin-soaked martinet
I fear thy boozy breath
For thou art harsh and crass and round
And work poor souls to death

[Jag Panzer]

Who wants to take a shot at "In Search of Lost Gin" by Marcel Couch?

[...]

...

[WildGorillaMan]

Listen up kids, as Shave Astro explains how shitty oly lifting technique can be used to improve your WOD times:

"These lifts -- high rep, light weight oly lifts -- can be successful even with inefficient technique, including keeping the hips high, pulling with the arms, not coming to full extension on the second pull and even swinging the barbell out. "

http://journal.crossfit.com/2010/06/sna ... tegies.tpl

Ambulance chasers are frantically cutting and pasting that before it gets deleted.

[WildGorillaMan]

Androgen Friday is taking off like it's been shot out of a cannon. In order to handle the madness, go here for this week's installment:

http://wildgorillaman.blogspot.com/2010 ... black.html

Here's a preview of what you can expect:

[powerlifter54]

To an Elite Athlete Dying Young

The time you tried to win the Gaymes
We remember you now by workout names;
HCO@F and boys stood cheering by,
When you Thruster Hitlered shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all douchebags come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
You found your threshold and went down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
In Astro’s fields glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than a tattoo rose.

Eyes the cult of skin has shut
Cannot see the Couch’s cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After a dozen or so post workout beers:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lemmings who wore their shoulders out,
Fitness Celebs whom renown outran
And their name died before the man.

So set before the acheyball things,
The oly bars and belly rings,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-awesome Andro Friday DD-cup.

And round that merkin-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered in its curls
A Fran time no lower than a girl's.

[WildGorillaMan]

I have a new, deeper respect for you, PL.

[milosz]

Dulce et decorum est, pro Couch mori.