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This is an interesting one. Me, Joe, Dave and Al, started going to work out in the basement of Brooks Gym. I had been working out since middle school and took it upon myself to direct the other three. I mean I'm just that good. It was going quite well Joe was my biggest success benching up to 275 lbs. Dave had a good bit of success to, Al being the smallest of us did quite well for his size. Well I deviate from the real story. We had been coming for months, and we kept seeing this weird guy. He kept trying to hit on the hot chicks that would do the stair master of exercise bikes, with absolutely no success. He was all of 140 lbs, and had forearms of an ape. He really looked misshapen. Every time we saw him he was doing forearm exercises so we un-affectionately referred to him as Popeye. Plus, we thought he may have been doing a private exercise to bulk up his forearm that I won't go into detail about. He pretty much looked like the cartoon character without the hat or pipe. Well on one and only one occasion he had to nerve to come over and offer me exercise tips. This was when I was a svelte 230 lbs and probably the best shape in my life. After we laughed at him for almost a full minute he didn't get it so I had to inform him, "No Popeye, I don't think I need exercise hints from you." At this point something must have clicked and he figured out, we would prefer him to be somewhere else and that being referred to as Popeye wasn't a compliment. We still kept seeing Popeye several times a week, still doing forearm exercises and getting shot down by women, but at least he didn't try to give us tips again.








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