I tried squatting here, and I swear to God, it was like something out of the new mad max movie. Apparently I wasn't squatting to correct depth or form. Flipping Bane shows up next to me, with a cattle prod, and jabbed me with the thing, until I dropped to below parallel. He then speaks "When you squat below parallel, then you have my permission to rise." You think his voice sounds disturbing in the movie, it was a whole other thing hearing it through muscle spasms while 5000 volts is zapping through you.

Marginal at best. Due to an aromatherapy treatment I was running late. Much to my chagrin once arriving I realized they did not offer the same amenities as other fitness spots: no pizza, no bagels, juice bar . .nothing. Ugghh - - to say this place was a bit behind is an understatement: Chicago's "25 or 6 to 4" on a constant loop? Don't get me started on the smells. Nevertheless here is an inventory: Hot Yoga -NONE, Free Flexor - NONE, Not even a Vibraslim Euro-Plate? I asked about the workout of the day and was told to %$% my own #&@* and to be sure to use proper form What did the place have? Funk. I am currently on a treatment with my infectious disease specialist due to a rare staphylococcus infection I picked up that has resulted in a third of my ear being removed and am awaiting results on an Ebola test. With places of business like this - Wichita Falls deserves a damn drought. . . Shout out to the bearded wonder - Nevada Nick D. in the place to be.....

So much for an "athletic club". The owner is a smelly old fart that all of his followers call "Rip, the Squat King"; on that note, I think the other members are insane because inbetween sets they take off their shirts, smear chalk under their eyes, and hang from the rafters screaming "GO MAD, GO MAD, GO MAD"- I don't have the slightest clue what that meant. Anyway, on my particular visit, I was minding my business trying to do some kipping pullups and abdomen blasting functional training while balancing on a foam roller, when the self-proclaimed Squat King came up to me and demanded that I demonstrate a proper squat. I made sure to squat just above parallel so that my knees didn't get injured and I came back up. Instantly, the Go-mad maniacs started chanting, "TUBOW, TUBOW, TUBOW!". At this point, I grabbed my foam roller and darted for the nearest exit. Just before getting to the door, I tripped over this long, slender, metal contraption they called a "barbell". As I landed hard on my stomach, I could feel the Squat King place his strong hands on my lumbar spine, and press down gently. He kneeled down close to my ear and whispered, "...Superman". At this point, I felt a mixture of feelings; something like a sensual arousal of my sexulatory system, and a bit of humiliation. I stood to my feet and the minions surrounded me, clenching their gallons of milk. I took a big breath and quietly said, "I just want big arms, how many sets should I do...?". The Squat King hip-drove my head into the Bill Starr shrine behind me and held my throat with a tight grip; I could tell he didn't use straps on his deadlift and/or strap-ons in the bedroom. Long story short, I'm going back to the club tomorrow for help cleaning and jerking and my wife is going to get her snatch touched up.

I saw the owner of this gym at a grocery store in Wichita Falls yesterday. I told him how cool it was to meet him in person, but I didn’t want to be a douche and bother him and ask him for photos or anything. He said, “Oh, like you’re doing now?” I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but he kept cutting me off and going “huh? huh? huh?” and closing his hand shut in front of my face. I walked away and continued with my shopping, and I heard him chuckle as I walked off. When I came to pay for my stuff up front I saw him trying to walk out the doors with like fifteen Milky Ways in his hands without paying. The girl at the counter was very nice about it and professional, and was like “Sir, you need to pay for those first.” At first he kept pretending to be tired and not hear her, but eventually turned back around and brought them to the counter. When she took one of the bars and started scanning it multiple times, he stopped her and told her to scan them each individually “to prevent any electrical infetterence,” and then turned around and winked at me. I don’t even think that’s a word. After she scanned each bar and put them in a bag and started to say the price, he kept interrupting her by yawning really loudly.

So I decided to give this place a try and right off I see there's no cardio equipment or Cybex machines, shit this place didn't even have any mirrors! Who has a gym with no leg press or quad extension machines? Anyway, I get in there and it's leg day so I start doing squats since they don't have any machines like a real gym when this big guy, I guess he's the owner, comes up and tells me I'm doing it wrong, I'm supposed to have the bar way down in the middle of my back and be all bent over at the bottom or something. So I'm like "Whoa, bro, I got this. My buddy's a certified Crossfit instructor and he showed me how to do things the right way. He can squat, like, 170 pounds or some shit, he's really strong and he knows what he's doing. Thanks for the advice but I'd rather keep my back straight, I don't want to hurt myself." Then he starts saying some crazy stuff about "moment arms" and my anthropo-something-or-other and "hip drive" and all kinds of other nonsense, it sounded like those physics lectures I used to sleep through in college. I just have regular arms, WTF is a moment arm, is that like those crazy metal arms Jax had in Mortal Kombat? That character was sweet, I used to love that game. Anyway, homeboy didn't even look like a trainer, man's rocking a keg instead of a six-pack, know what I mean? What does he know about working out? So anyway I told him again thanks bro, but I got this, and he tells me to GTFO if I'm going to squat like a pussy! Who does that? I'm going back to Planet Fitness, they've got free donuts!