By The Biggest and the Best
I had a heart attack
because of steroids. It was always going to be this way. I lived by the sword,
and I died by the sword. But no regrets. I was only 46, but I lived life on my
terms, big and impossibly massive. The good die young, but the best die big.
But don’t worry about me, I’m teaching Jesus how to best train biceps. No,
worry about yourselves. For what, now, are you going to do without me? Who’s
gunna wish you good fucking morning on his training videos every day? Who are
you going to follow on Instagram? I’ve left a big stinking void behind and no
one else is phat enough to fill it. I was a one and only. My hundreds of
thousands of YouTube followers will tell you that for nothing. They used to
enjoy me making my enormous five-scoop protein powder shakes. It’s motherfucking shake time! I used to
decree. There’ll be no more shake times with me, I’m afraid. You lot are going
to have to fend for yourselves. Snort your pre-workout in memory of me, I say.
Think of me when you’re doing your stretches and vacuums. You saw how agile I
was for such a huge dude. You can still be like me, you know. My videos will
always be there. And my supplement company will live on too. You know my
slogan, Love it, Kill it. Take that to heart. In this game, you’ve got to love
it, but you also have to kill it too. Love it, and kill it. I should have been
a philosopher, but I was too busy getting absolutely humongous. I always got
asked what I did for my arms. My answer is, apart from injecting oil and all
kinds of other crap, I trained them three times a week. That’s why you only
ever saw me in a vest, because my arms wouldn’t fit into any other kinds of
clothing. (Size fifteen feet too.) I always got asked about my tatts as well.
My answer is that they enhanced my physique. People asked about my money, and I
told them I was a whizz in the stock market. They asked about my belts and
watches. My houses. My Bentleys. They asked me a lot of questions. You saw how
popular my booths were at the bodybuilding conventions. I was more popular than
Mr Olympia. What other bodybuilder can ever say that? No one, only me. I was
the biggest, and I was the best. That’s why everyone flocked to me. And did you
see how much time I had for them all? Always happy to have a word and pose for
a picture. Always changing my appearance as well. Hair dye, teeth, beard…I
reinvented myself more times than Madonna. The people loved me though, because
I was a good man. A softie at heart. Caring and good-natured. Self-made. You’ve
got to love yourself before you can love anybody else. So, go out there and go
whatever it takes, mother fuckers, and do it in memory of me.
Rich's 1st article below
http://piebald77.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/rich-piana-mr-california.html
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