Tag Archives: meathead

#65 The Meathead With The Small Dog

Sometimes my Master and I play <em>Hide In The Colon!</em>

Sometimes he let's me play Hide In The Hot Dog!

We’ve all seen the swoll meathead out in public, usually devouring a high protein lunch, peppering his egg white omelet with several grunts and elbows propped awkwardly on the table. If his veiny-arm lumps weren’t enough to scare your kids, he’s now raised the ante — he’s purchased a rat and put a dog collar on it. Ahhh yeah…The Meathead with the Small Dog. His name says it all: a muscular goon with a quaint canine pet, usually in the form of a chihuahua, dachshund, or Yorkshire terrier. Either way, it’s a POS dog associated with stupid spoiled whores and Coach bags.

This walking hard-on’s entire life revolves around 3 daily chores: whey protein shakes, a 3-hour gym visit (plus 1 hour for looking at himself in the mirror), and walking his miniature dog. Where he finds the time to blow other men is a mystery to me.

BigGuySmallDogWhen purchasing a pet dog, most grown men follow the simple “Rule of Dog Kindness”: if you can kill your dog by accidentally stepping on it, then you don’t buy that dog. In other words, if you come home drunk at 3am and your stumbling to hit the light switch, maybe you mistakenly step on your dog’s paw — if your dog would die from such injuries, save the poor animals life. Don’t buy it. Don’t be a dick. Look at the size of your foot, if it’s bigger than your dogs head, this is a bad equation. Plus, that dog looks gay.

But alas, this is not a relevant factor with the Chiwawa-Meathead. He works out at the gym, defining his abs and glutes, right before strolling down the street with his puny pure bred (Editor’s Note: his dog’s probably named Ab or Glute). Both his workout regiment and his attention to his house pet are a tad bit on the aggressive side, and it should be noted there’s nothing more freakish than watching a 5’3” steroid in spandex shorts French kiss his Yorky at a sidewalk café.

Perhaps most intriguing, however, is that with all that buldging muscle and manly-manness asserted by the Meathead, he is virtually unaware of the latent homosexuality associated with his two favorite activities: lifting weights and feeding his Mr. Kittles a piece of his crepe. The act of being around a bunch of sweaty dudes, all groaning and moaning within the confines of heavy steel and cables, correlates well with sitting on a suede ottoman and letting Mr. Kittles lick your lips; both are the standard opening scenes to a mid-90s gay porno flick. And for all you germaphobes out there, sure Mr. Kittles just licked his hairy anus before licking Meathead, but in all fairness, Meathead has definitely tasted a hairy anus in the past. This is not a strange new world to Meathead. This is Friday nights at The Abbey.

Meathead and Small Dog can be found anywhere there are outdoor activities, weights, and lots and lots of hand jobs (mainly Los Angeles, Miami, and San Francisco). It’s not hard to spot this guy, even if he happens to be driving. Just look for the VW Beetle with the “I love my pets…and my pecks” bumper sticker.

By Scott Glockholder
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Also Know As: Turner and Mook, Black Rob’s Small Dog, Butt-Pirate and the Beast, Bitch and Bitches, Hot Dog and Donut Puncher, Paris Hilton, The Salad Tossers, BALCO & Alpo, Both Receivers of Doggy-Style Sex
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Filed under animals, annoying people, beach, body, guidos, gym, idiot accessories

#45 The Weightroom Screamer

So you know it's good.

So you know it's good

What’s more eXtreme than lifting weights, sweating, and screaming at the same time?  If you said “nothing”, give yourself a pat on the pecks.

The Weightroom Screamer is the most intense, meaty, and vocal of all gym-going men.  Every set offers them not just the ability to push their muscles to the limit, but also a chance to show the world they have the vocal pipes of a castrati.  

And screaming bloody murder is not something they take lightly.  Most of the time, you’ll notice they utilize the “grunt-scream”, which is a hybrid noise ranging somewhere between an ejaculating bull and a dying dog.  This is chump change to them.  It’s filler. 

But the REAL scream — the one that makes everyone stare and uneasy — this is what the Weightroom Screamer lives for.  Max Weight. And they refuse to do alone.  They will undoubtably ask you for a spot, grab that weight in their greasy hands, and scream into your face like a drunk girl doing karaoke.  

Can I get a spot please?

Can I get a spot please?

Yet, it’s not all for nothing.  Their mindless screams function much like a bird’s mating call.   The shrill and uncomfortable vocals are merely a signal — letting all the ladies in the room know that he’s the strongest man in the room, and yes, he’s ovulating.

Fresh off of a gallon of Vanilla Whey Protein Shakes and a shot of “5 Hour Energy”, the WRS is ready — at any moment – to have a bench press competition, ask you “what the f**ck are YOU looking at?”, or to straight-up punch you in the face.   If you’re a female, spotting a WRS before they scream is not difficult — they’re the only one in the gym more interested in staring at their own ass over yours.

You can find the WRS at any location where free weights are found. If you live near a beach, you may find an increased ratio of WRS, as their screams hope to attract a hot bittie walking by the ocean. They feed off of lifting wrought iron, and if they even see a BoFlex or any of this other mechanical bullshit, they’re liable to scream in anger and throw a temper tantrum.
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Also Known As:  The Meathead Scream, The Weight Room Diva, Whey Warriors, That Dude At The Gym That Won’t Shut The Fuck Up, Braveheart

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#7 The Pencil Chinstrap

the thin line between facial hair and gaycial hair.

The Pencil Chinstrap is the thin line between facial hair and gaycial hair. It’s beard meets Etch-A-Sketch. A matte frame around a meaty face.

You see, the regular chinstrap is not enough. It’s way too thick and not nearly as abrasive. For people like Pencil Chinstraps, that facial hair needs to be chiseled down. Into a barely visible, dainty line.

After all, this is not facial hair we’re talking about. This is art. Linear, mathematical douchebag art. While other men are out drinking beer, the Chinstrapper will spend hours measuring, and remeasuring. Use of a protractor is essential.

more chinsIt must be right angles at the jaw line. The sideburn area must be polished clean. The line must be as thin as possible. If they could get it down to one hair follicle in diameter, they would. In fact, they have a bunch of Guidos in a lab working on that science as we speak.

The Pencil Chinstrap will often be combined with The Blowout, The Fake Tan, and steroid use. Headbands and straight-brimmed hats are optional. Depending on how close you get to New Jersey or Long Island, combinations may become more and more extreme.

In rare instances, you may see a makeshift Pencil Chinstrap drawn on with an Eyeliner Pencil. This may occur when a Pencil Chinstrapper commits “the cardinal sin” — or for the layman, when they screw up in the shaving process, and break the line. In such situations, the burning desire for a thin line of facial hair may cause a man to act irrationally, and use makeup.

The Pencil Chinstrap is the final frontier for the meathead. They’ve conquered muscles, skanks, tight shirts…and now beards.
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Also Known As: The Man’s Eyeliner, The Thin Chin Wrap, Guido Gold, The Mason/Douchebag Line, Thin Tin Tin, The Redneck U
Related: The Blowout, The Fake Tan, The Double-Popped D-Bag

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Filed under friends, guidos, haircuts, new jersey