NAked Warrior - ZANDERBILT

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I R O N E S S A Y S Laws. I for one will not be silenced even if my speaking out results in being branded as a hater. Sure I hate, I hate mullets. But my bigotry is rooted in commonsense and self preservation. It’s damned difficult in this day and age for a human predator (like me) to be up on what identifiable segment of the population has been granted protection under the 1965 Civil Rights Act. If you are prone to violent encounters, nowadays you need a lawyer riding shotgun with you everywhere you go: to the gym, to the strip club, to the Chinese buffet, to the Blockbuster, to work and to the movie theater. My life morphed from restful to stressful all on account of litigious mullets. Their credo is: do less, go lighter, quit sooner and use the recovered training time to talk about training. To a true Mullet, a seasoned and mature mullet, the credo is pure perfection: 99% of available training time should be spent talking about lifting and 1% of the time should be spent actually lifting. Regular gym mullets are normally manageable, but annually the pack gets augmented by “resolution” acolyte mullets. These newcomers spring into half-ass action and act out their fitness resolution fantasies in the weeks immediately after New Year’s Eve. Swarms of mullets attack gyms nationwide. It makes you want to quit the commercial gym scene altogether. Is it any wonder there is a resurgence of home gym training among the Iron Elite? I was scheduled to squat with Mongo, Joe Don, Mandigo, Tex and Sonny last Tuesday, January 6th. As I made my way to the squat rack, I found five mullets clustered around the holy and sacred squat rack, defiling it, placing upon it a 5 pound aluminum bar loaded with 2.5 pound plates on each side. Sacrilege! This cannot stand! The line must be drawn somewhere! Tex was already there and before I could stop him, he took action. The Mullets were taking turns doing cheat curls. Placing a curl bar on the squat rack allows them to not have to bend down and pick the bar up off the floor, thereby wasting valuable mullet strength that could be used for the real work: the post-set conversation about how great that set of just completed curls was. Mullet gab between sets can last for upwards of 30 minutes. No sense wasting valuable conversation strength bending over to pick the bar off the floor. That would be stupid. Since murder is wrong and maiming, even accidentally, is out of the question, (even if you beat the criminal charges, then there’s civil court to deal with) my kind have to watch our Ps and Qs. Tex was quivering. I tried to calm him down. I suggested he take some of the powerful narcotics I knew he always kept handy. He should have listened to me. Gym owners, once our allies, now insist we must learn to peacefully coexist with mullets. When we complain, gym owners throw in our face things like, “Mullets are prompt payers whose checks don’t bounce.” The Iron Elite, gym owners are quick to point out, are actually more trouble than they are worth. The owners are always chasing the muscle men down for dues in arrears, while mullets pay in full for the whole year in advance and often For complete information on Marty Gallagher’s The Purposeful Primitive, or to purchase the physical book, visit http://www.dragondoor.com/b37.html now 54
55 T H E P U R P O S E F U L P R I M I T I V E in cash. Management loves mullet business: their checks clear the first time and they don’t bend up bars and curse and scream obscenities, scaring the shit out of other customers. Best of all, after a mullet pays for a full year in advance, they disappear after two or three weeks. They don’t reappear until the following January. All in all, mullets are the perfect gym member insofar as management is concerned. When they appear, whatever mullet members want, mullet members can have. Mullets are easily insulted and will take their business elsewhere at the drop of a hat. They are litigious. Big Tex is a Hell’s Angel and was visiting with us until things cooled down back in Oakland. On this particular squat day, despite being heavily sedated, he lost control and made the mistake of slapping the taste out of the mouth of a smart-mouthed mullet. He made a bad thing worse by choke-slamming the mullet, launching him backwards at the speed of sound over a flat bench. This occurred after the head mini-me mullet made some smart-ass comment about our cursing. Until then, Tex was willing to limit his outrage to screaming. The mullet curl club was creeping through ten sets of curls taking twenty minutes between each set. Things spun badly out of control. Tex leapt up and with one hand tossed the tiny curl barbell twenty feet across the room, barely missing a small mullet herd clustered around the water cooler. The head dumb-ass mullet just had to bait Tex, “Hey, you oafish goon!” said Dennis the tribal chief of this particular herd, “You can’t do that! You muscle-headed dreadnought!” Dennis hissed at Tex like a viper. “You better pick that barbell up and bring it back over here right now! Apologize before I call the manager over and have you banned from the club! You and your type are gene-deficient mongoloid imbeciles and if you touch me I’ll sue!” That’s when the choke-slam occurred. Tex has been sued before, plenty of times. What Dennis had overlooked is that when you have nothing (other than a Harley and a bunch of Lynard Skynard 8 track tapes) being sued is an empty threat. Tex has been shot before. He’s been stabbed a few times in prison. He was once hit with a taser on an episode of Cops. He carries around taped copies of the show and he will autograph and sell you a copy for $20. Tex left before the paramedics and cops arrived and put Dennis on the straight board so as to not further injure his neck. Dennis the Mullet, it turns out, is a senior partner at a local ambulance-chasing law firm. Once they catch him, Tex will be headed back to San Quentin to serve out the remainder of his sentence. Since “the incident” my Mountaineer Open Plans are disintegrating before my eyes. Pray for me. I am a bundle of nerves and fear my deadlift goal is flying off the rails. If it were physically possible, I would kick my own ass. For complete information on Marty Gallagher’s The Purposeful Primitive, or to purchase the physical book, visit http://www.dragondoor.com/b37.html now
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The Purposeful Primitive By Marty G
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Page 33 and 34: 33 Contrast Is King T H E P U R P O
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Page 47 and 48: 47 T hey say that variety is the sp
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NAked Warrior - ZANDERBILT

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