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The BSBFB Guide To Physical Fitness

The BSBFB Guide To Physical Fitness

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The true borderline sociopathic boy likes a healthy regimen of exercise and yelling. Take this crossfit routine. It’s got your USRDA of frantic activity and grunting. To simplify things, however, we’ve found that you can leave out the exercise altogether. As long as there’s a lot of yelling, you’re on the right track.

Remember, gym memberships are expensive, but highway overpasses are free. You can get a great workout by simply yelling at passing cars and waving your arms around like those inflatable tube-dudes outside the used car lot. Of course, you don’t want to be mistaken for a simple vagrant, so be sure to wear a unitard so they’ll know you’re a fitness buff and not a lunatic.

Help, I’ve Fallen And I Can’t Lift Things Up And Put Them Down

Help, I’ve Fallen And I Can’t Lift Things Up And Put Them Down

Man, Arnold Schwarzenegger really let himself go. He wasn’t exactly the most presentable person to begin with, but that didn’t stop him getting elected governator of California, twice. On closer inspection I think that might be the reanimated corpse of Bette Davis, but there’s no way I could possibly tell. Everyone over a certain age turns the consistency of a leather handbag, and probably can store just as much rubbish between the loose folds.

I Lift Things Up-Diddly-Up And Put Them Down-Diddly-Down

I Lift Things Up-Diddly-Up And Put Them Down-Diddly-Down

Bob Couch, the love child of Ned Flanders and Arnold Schwarzenegger, has become my favorite recording artist of all time. Not because of his music, or his muscles. Not even because of his dedication to his workout. I love his sweet sense of style. The hair, the porn stache, the short-shorts; he’s got the look down. Every day I get out of bed and I try to live my life as Bob Couch would. I pump iron, I push out another set, and I work up a sweat.

Except I don’t actually work out — or get out of bed for that matter. It’s the thought that counts. I may not be making Bob proud, but I’m getting his sweet style down. I can almost grow a moustache, and I think I own a pair of jorts. Maybe when I grow up I can be just like Bob, but until then I’ll just relax my mind and think about pumping iron.

[Many thanks to Gerard at American Digest who doesn’t need to pump iron to get attention from the opposite sex. He just shows them his massive collection of Bob Couch records.]

Bro, Do You Even Curl?

Bro, Do You Even Curl?

[Video Warning: As you might expect, the “Bro-Science Lab” spokesman swears a bit in his videos]

Bro understands the weight room like a Mormon understands monogamy. He knows everything in the gym is for making your biceps bigger. Full stop. That’s it. He knows the hell out of it. He could do it all day long, with everything and everybody.

Chicks dig biceps. This is known. They squeeze them and whatnot if you’ve got em. What’s a chick going to squeeze if you don’t have biceps? Nothing. Dude knows biceps aren’t just the hood ornament on your Escalade of sex appeal, or even the spinners or the subwoofer bazooka in the back. Biceps are the whole damn ride. Better get to the gym, and get biceptual, bro.