LOOKING BACK by Big Chest

Disclaimer: The views and language of Big Chest do not represent those of admin here at PIEBALD77

Big Chest couldn’t give a turd about anyone or anything other than his massive big chest. His only goal as a child was to pile slabs of striated beef across his pecs and he did exactly that. He would ask heavy men including bouncers and wrestlers how they got theirs and jot down their advices in his training journal. He recalls how when he became huge himself, with time, the younger generation would ask him questions too. Usually, he telleth youngsters to eat an armload of red meat every day and train like a wounded animal, but he never responds to stupid questions like HOW’S THE DIET GOING? WHAT CAN I DO FOR MY GLUTES? and WILL INJECTING WINSTROL INTO MY ERECTILE SHAFT GIVE ME A BETTER STONK ON?

Unlike virtually every other bodybuilder, Big Chest is open about steroid use. “I never injected,” he says, “because even looking at a needle makes me dizzy, but when you talk to me about pills, I would drop them by the handful. I ordered them online from a lab in Mexico. There was a picture of a mutant cow with muscles on the box. Within minutes I’d be tearing doors off the hinges just to see if I could, and snapping them in half over my knee. I tipped my neighbour’s Fiat Punto over once, and ripped my fiancé’s duvet in half. Then I lay awake on the settee sweating all night, unable to sleep, hearing that insomnia song about one dry potato, the Faithless one in which he’s tearing off tights with his teeth, and my heart was pounding so much I would have the first two 9s of 999 already dialed on my mobile, with my finger waiting on the button for the third. There was a point when I was dialing the hospital every other night. I was calling ambulances like pizzas. And they always told me the same thing, to stop my crazy gym lifestyle and all that went with it.”

But true worthy champions never give up what they love and Big Chest is indeed the truest and the worthiest of true worthy champions; none more so than when he’s sat off down town in his tank top eating pork luncheon rolls. People gather round the behemoth and ask him to pose, like a trained ape.

“I remember my first photo-shoot for a magazine,” he says. “They gave me bermuda shorts and some sunglasses to put on. They wanted me to make a 20 pound dumbbell look heavy and smile as I did so. There was a guy with a squirty water bottle on hand to spray me with fake sweat. I was like man, get these mother**king c**ksuckers outta my sight, I don’t wear sunglasses when I train, are these crazy b*stards doolally or what? So they agreed to come back again and do it my way, with blood and guts and heavy-ass weights, only they turn around and tell me at the end of a grueling legs session that they'd run out of film, and hadn’t recorded my personal best set of intense high-rep heavy-breathing deep-knee-bend parallel barbell squats, which I hardly ever do because I'm so busy doing chest all the time. He hadn’t wanted to disturb me, was his excuse. I was lying down on the floor being sick when he asked could I go through it again if he went and grabbed some more film. Go through it again! Legs? Was he fecking mad or what man!”

Big Chest can be contacted for advice on how to build a big chest at bigchest@gmx.com

P.S (only 15 sheets for a signed photo)

BLASTIN' BRITNEY by Big Chest

SCHMOE®
Die Big

Big Chest hardly ever trains his chest, but when he does, he bombs it. It remains sensitive for days. His girlfriend always pokes him in it. He also massages the deep tissue in his armpit with a pin whilst training, and stretches constantly. If he had to choose two movements only for the rest of his life, he would choose flat dumbell flyes and seated machine press.

***

I’ve always wanted to own my own gym. I finally managed it in my mid-thirties. I didn’t want a typical name that included the words ‘fortress’ or ‘temple’, so after much deliberation I opted for Big Mac’s Gym. My nickname has always been Macca, and I’m big, and I think personal names suit some places.

First thing I did is install a Bose hi-fi system with speakers in the ceiling. There are LCD screens throughout, but they are usually on mute and for background visuals only. I usually run Mr and Ms Olympias, or training videos, one after the other on loop, for motivation.

I bought art, and plenty of, for the walls. And memorabilia as well. Flags, sculptures, trophies, framed magazines, rarities and oddities....the walls are littered with all kinds of stuff, including some signed trunks from Ronnie Coleman.

The equipment is a mix of old and new. I purposefully left the squat rack area looking rough and shabby, to give it a dungeon effect. The paint on the stairway entrance was painted to make it look like a dark, eerie cave.

We have our fair share of hard core women who train at Big Macs, which attracts more men. Business is good.

Personally, I train whenever the gym is quietest, because I like to blast Britney. For years I had to endure televisions or radio stations in other gyms, or dead silence. Now, I belt the tunes out for my customers, and belt them out loud. Trance, dance, metal, hard rap, you name it. Anything to get the blood flowing.

For me, it is Britney. Imagine suggesting they blast Britney Spear’s pop music from their speakers in any other gym? You would be ridiculed. I take sheer delight from doing just, in the afternoons. Currently, in this part of the world, the sun is low and bright. The floor space is flooded with autumn sunshine.

You’ll find me pinned beneath the bar to ‘Crazy’, ‘Oops I Did It Again’, and ‘Baby One More Time.’ People CANNOT BELIEVE I train to her. They come in and see a competitive hulk like me grimacing to that stuff and it trips them out. For me, the music is moving and emotional. I have a fine ear, and pick up on the evocative and melodic undertones which most people don’t associate with Britney.

If a certain sound of music puts me in an emotional state of mind for a bruising set, then I don’t care who it’s by, the oldest rock band going or the latest Pop Idol winner. The ear doesn’t lie, and if something subtle caresses it, you have to be honest and applaud whoever is responsible.

Pop and chart music is discriminated against, but many of the solo female artists are producing fine work, in my opinion. Like I touched upon, you need to know your ear. It can be very subtle.

Pop into my gym someday. I’m located on the edge of the river, underneath the bridge. You’ll find me pumping pecs, and blasting Britney.

© Big Chest MMX

Ya what, ha? Productions

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Another story from Big Chest?

http://piebald77.blogspot.com/2010/05/expo-by-big-chest.html

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EXPO by Big Chest

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