Flat out tired

This is the first time in a long time, if not ever, that I have been completely tired spiritually. There are so many people that are hurting and so many prayer requests that I almost seem to get a headache when praying. My prayers seem to be so intense, so deep, so soul bearing, that I'm literally exhausted when I'm done praying. I hurt so badly for those that I'm praying for and the circumstances they are going through because the things they are going through are just so sad. The things I am asked to pray for don't have to do with someone trying to sell their home, or someone is praying that their kid has a good football game tonight. They are prayers of very sick children and loved ones, they are prayers of a father who blames himself for his son's suicide, or friends who have lost their child. They are prayers for people who have been raped, abandoned, and seem to have no hope. As much as I wish sometimes I didn't take to heart the prayer requests I get or the stories of the people I meet, I can't help but feel a little of the burden that God feels everyday. He deals with billion times the things people ask me to pray for. God tells us to help carry the burdern of those around us, and trust that He will provide, and believe me I do trust. But my sorrow level for the things that have been placed before me as of late has slowed me down big time. I can't shake the faces of those whom I pray for. I can't shake lose the pain in the voices I've heard. I can't just pray for them and forget them like it seems everyone else does. God hasn't built me that way and as much as I'm thankful He continues to mold me to think and care more like Him, it is beginning to wear me down. The people I've met over the past few weeks who are hurting in ways most will never hurt, I can say with honesty, that I love them in a way Christ loves them. There is no hidden agenda to their needs, there is no one they are trying to impress or a status that they are trying to live up to. They aren't trying to impress their friends and neighbors at all costs. They are just ordinary people who have sad pasts that they live with everyday. They have disease that is ravaging their bodies day in and day out. All they ask is for prayer and to not feel alone in their battles. To know someone cares for them and loves them, and when that someone says "I will pray for you" that its not just the Christian answer, but that that person will go home and pour out their heart and soul in prayer for them to the Father. I guess that is what God sees in me. He sends me to these places of darkness because He knows I will go and that when people see me, they know I will help them in whatever way possible, especially through praying for them and showing them that I'm not there because I was bored and had nothing else to do, but that sacrificing the things I love so dearly in this life to go be God's voice, God's hands, and God's love is why I go. That I go, so that my children will understand what it means to be IN love with God and not just love Him when its convenient. That my children will see that God created them to love people and serve people as Christ did. That its ok not to be rich, or live in the best neighborhoods. That some of the most Godly and gospel understanding people are the poor, former drug addicts, had abortions, murdered someone, lost their child, were raped, or just plain hated God at one point. They aren't the people the world would say would be best example of a good Christian man or woman. They don't live nice neighborhoods, drive nice cars, wear the best clothes, know the most scripture, or even go to their church. I hope my girls get older and don't hate me for not giving them the best car to drive or clothes to wear. That they aren't disappointed that we didn't live a two story brick home with everything that money could buy. But instead I hope they see that the money it would have taken to aqcuire those things instead, goes to save two families on the other side of the planet. That that money money bought the tombstone for a family who lost their only son. That the money that could have bought a bigger house, instead was sent to feed orphans in Africa who have nothing. If my children, can understand the importance of that and that the sacrifices we made as a family have in turn provided life, love and hope for another soul, then I will say my life on this earth had a purpose and I as a father did my best for God. And if that in turn brings my children to call Jesus, Lord and Saviour, then my job as a follower of Christ will be fulfilled and I can rest knowing that I did my best for my God.

This past week in a nut shell

What an awesome past few days. God moved in some incredible ways and again moved me so much more closer to Him. Friday night we went with Kevin as he sang at the Wellhouse downtown. The Wellhouse is a safe haven for those who have been sex trafficked here in the Birmingham area. I had no idea that sex slavery was right here 15 minutes from my own home. The Wellhouse teamed up with The Village, a mens nonprofit designed to help men just out of prison get back on their feet and start again. It was amazing to see how many people showed up. There was so much hurt and pain in that room it almost became overwhelming for me. Friday in my office, I began praying for that night and for God to move and bring peace and relief to all those who would be there that night. As I prayed intensely and purposely, God's words poured from my mouth through the tears. "God I pray for a black man who is going to be there tonight. That you help him and be with him..." and the prayer goes on and on. But as I was saying that prayer the picture of a black man came to me in my head as if he were standing 6 inches from my face. It was so clear, so real. He was smiling at me. So I went about my day excited about that night. WE arrive at the Wellhouse and I had totally forgotten about my prayer earlier. I stood in the back and mingled with some guys who had came to get free pizza and listen to Kevin. After Kevin gave his testimony, he asked for those there with him to come to the front for the invitation to pray with those who had given their lives to Christ or just wanted to be prayed with. At first I hesitated at going up there because there seemed to be enough people up there. But I went up there instead. As soon as I got to the front and turned around, walking straight towards me was the man in my prayer earlier that day, smiling. I began to shake as all I could do was smile back at him. He introduced himself as Reggie as he shook my hand and never let go. I began praying with him and for him. Tears pouring from my eyes because it was hitting me that God showed me this man 6 hours earlier in a prayer. That God had set this appointment up. After I finished praying, Reggie still squeezing my hand, I told him about my prayer and seeing his face in it. He started crying and told me it was his first time there, and that he wasn't going to come to the front but when he saw me go down front, "something" pushed him to follow me. The feeling I felt is unexplainable. It was pure, unfiltered joy and happiness. What an awesome God we serve.
Come Sunday, Steve, his dad, and I were scheduled to ride with MakeWay Partners in the Ride for Refuge. It was an honor and privilege to be associated with this group of people. It was a lot of fun with some awesome adventures of Steve's dad getting lost, my bike breaking, and all of our butts and between our legs being extremely sore from the bike seats. I finally got to meet some of the people at MWP and they are freakin' awesome. Heck they even used a blog I wrote poking fun of Steve's dad in the things they use to spread the word about MWP, which I thought was awesome. One thing that struck me during my ride through Homewood and Mountain Brook was the money there. There was huge house after huge house, Mercedes, BMWs, and Porsche's everywhere. People walking the sidewalks with thier $500 strollers and running gear worth no telling what. It upset me seeing all this while knowing that I was riding for men, women, and children who don't even have enough money to eat, much less afford a home or car. Here these people probably own a beach home or lake home or house in the mountains. Just because they have worked hard and have extra money lying around they feel it necessary to accumulate multiple expensive homes. I wonder if they would still live the way they lived if they had no one else to brag to about what they have, where they live, or how many homes they have. If there was noone else in world who cared about their material things, would they still feel the need to use what God has given them and blow it all on themselves? But I'm sure if you were to ask them, they'd say they weren't rich because they don't make a million dollars a year. That just because you own to homes and two cars doesn't make you rich. Living in Homewood, Mountain Brook, Greystone, or wherever else in home that costs $300k plus doesn't make you rich. My question to them is how they can say that they aren't rich when you can look around this world and see that you are. I don't have any of these things, and I KNOW I am rich. I get tired of hearing people who make $100K plus tell me they are struggling or times are tough. Are you serious? I really want to punch them. Are times tough because you live in a home big enough for 10 people, or a neighborhood that costs 5x as much just because of its location. Are times tough because you take 5 vacations a year, drive nice cars, eat at only the best restaraunts, and wear only the best cloths? Yeah I guess you can you have "earned" it. But as God says, "To whom much is given, much is expected". But somehow people lie to themselves and say they do give back. Giving God left overs and fulfilling your needs first are not biblical. I really am sick of seeing people living for themselves. I'll take it a step further. It doesn't impress me that parents live for their kids or families. So what? I do it so it really isn't impressive or like "wow, I've never seen that." It's not like that is rare and an actual sacrifice. You love them so why wouldn't you? But to see another person, live for and love on a person they don't know, for the pure fact that they understand the gospel is so beautiful. To see a person who, by biblical standards, is rich spend their time and money on someone who is not as fortunate, is Godly. For once in life, I would have more respect, if you can call it that, for a person who just says that they don't want to give "their" money away and don't feel like they should have to do anything that causes them any type of discomfort. Instead I have to sit and hear people lie to themselves and try to lie to God as if they can fool the One who created them. Maybe once people start living for others instead of themselves, this crummy world could be more tolerable. I never quite understood what God meant when He says it will be easier for camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God, but I now I do and I know God is right. As long as people keep telling themselves they aren't rich and don't have time, money, or anything else to spare, then there will those who ARE rich allowing those who aren't to suffer throughout this world. And worse is while they enjoy the few years they have on this earth, they will miss out on the eternity that they think awaits them only to find out their lying to themselves has finally caught up with them and they missed the mark.
Then came last night with all of us men who on Wednesday nights from 9pm until God decides to shut us down around 12:30, going to visit George. George is one of Kevin Derryberry's buddies who is facing a tough battle with a disease that is literally killing him. He needs a lung and heart transplant, his health is overall just not good. We went to his home last night to pray over him. His sweet mom made all kinds of sweets for us, which I didn't need but sure did enjoy. After George told us more about his situation, we went around the room and prayed for him. In all the things thus far, that I have been to and prayed for, this was the hardest. As I looked at George in his chair, in his PJ's, with the oxygen tube in his nose, all I could see was my dad. This time three years ago my dad was in the exact same state. My heart was broken because everything about that room seemed so familiar. I had been there before. As everyone prayed, I could just sense the Holy Spirit moving. Hearing grown men literally crying for another man, who none of us knew except Kevin, was so Godly. To hear these men on a weekly basis come before our Father and pray the things they pray with the hearts they have, is awesome. I'm blessed to beyond words that I have these men as examples.

Is going to college really worth it?

This is one of the biggest questions people have now-a-days. Is the sacrifice of 2 or 4 years and thousands and thousands of dollars really worth it in the long run? Will getting a $100k education make getting a job easier and help me get the job I want? Well I'm here to shed light on the truth. I will try to compare my education with the job I have plus also give insight to the things that I use in my job which I acquired in college.
First of, one way school did help me was my first "job". When I was playing pro ball, I was able to put to use the things I was taught in "college" or more so the baseball field. Many of the things I learned while playing ball at Southern helped me tremendously when with Atlanta and Florida. So that is a plus I guess for a college education if you consider a sport a type of classroom which I do.
Today I am a steel estimator. What I do at my job everyday has nothing to do with anything I was taught at BSC. I deal with math all day, writing proposals, and deal with a number of other aspects as well. In saying that, I took one semester of writing at BSC of which I got a C so technically I'm not technically qualified to write proposals. I took one semester of basic math to which the athletic director's daughter did most of my work to help me pass, so I'm not a wiz a math. I dropped out of business and accounting for these two facts and went after the easiest degree there was at Southern besides theatre for dorks and dance for the gays, I majored in art. There was not math needed or writing skills involved. Simply draw or sculpt something, anything, that was visible and you were a genious. Business class people had to dress nice for presentations and dance people had to wear leo-tards around campus, and so on and so on. Art people didn't give a rip about what they wore to class. Dudes would come in wearing a wife-beater they wore for the past 2 days, ripped up shorts that were actually boxers and two different shoes. Girls would come in no bra and their ta-tas all hanging out, their hair all nasty with dead ends, and nasty legs that hadn't been shaved in weeks. Though we didn't hang out on the weekends, they were my people just for the fact that no matter how little effort I put into a project, they would say it was "magnificent", "just orgasmic", "very fluid and has great composition". So really the bar was set so low in all the art classes that a blind guy with no arms or legs could roll around in some paint then onto a big sheet of paper and be called the next DaVinci.
So back to my point. College did nothing and taught me nothing as far as job goes. I use absolutely nothing I was taught in college. NOTHING.
What I did learn in college that helps me in everyday life is being able to have fun and look at the funny things in life. The weird people who walk around, who go out of their way to look different and are here, I believe, to make me laugh. I learned how to pull some great pranks like washing powder in the fountain, tarp sliding at 2 in the morning, drawing naked people in art class, water balloon fights in the dorm, launching water balloons across campus at people, and unscrewing the top to the bar-b-q sauce for someone to dump it all over their food realizing the media guy is the one that grabbed it and dumped it all over the place causing me to have to run for it. Yes all these things I learned have nothing to do with a job but everything to do with having fun and having a laugh. College has more to do with creating friendships, teammates, and learning about life than it does teaching you about a your job unless you are a doctor or lawyer to which it probably does in come in a little useful. Other than those two occupations most every job in the world can be taught to someone in a matter of months by on-the-job training. So if you are thinking about Yale, Harvard, or Miles college just save your money. Take an online course or get your GED, its all the same.

Gym Screamers

As many of you know, or may not know, I've been going to the gym now for a long time. After taking a breif two year stint from the gym after ball, I am now back in there 4 days a week. Plus the fact that I was getting fat and still am fat was a good reason to get back in there and shape up. One thing about ball that I miss was always having the gym to myself or one or two other guys. I could do in there in nothing but sliding shorts or my jock strap and shoes and lift as much as I wanted without having to deal with other weirdos. Heck sometimes you might catch a guy in there lifting naked just because he was too lazy to put on some clothes. I could play whatever music I wanted and be able to totally focus on the whatever I was doing at the time. But know that I am back in the public gym arena, I am also back to dealing with the weirdos who like to visit the gym unfortunately at the very same time I like to go lift. I'm not gonna lie, I can throw some serious weight around as far as legs go and am on working by upper body hard to be able to do the same. But no matter how much weight I'm lifting, how many reps I'm doing, or how tired I am, I NEVER feel the urge to yell or scream during a lift. Yet for some reason dudes who work out where I do seem to love to yell. NO matter how loud I turn my music up, I still hear these guys screaming. Just like today, a dude is doing some type of lift I've never seen and still not sure what he was working out, but regardless every time he picked the weight up he yelled. If you are not lifting a house, then there is no reason to yell especially if the wieght you are lifting is what a kid who hasn't yet reached puberty can lift. Then there is the black cop who likes to yell at himself like he is coaching himself. Honestly this guy pisses me off and the sad thing is he isn't even that big. After every set he walks up to the mirror and flexes like he is on a Muscle-Man stage. There are about 3 dudes in there that lift weights so loud it sounds like most of them should be in a bedroom not the gym. When I was at Planet Fitness several months ago, they had a "Lunk Alarm" for dudes who yelled or dropped their weights. If the gym I'm at now had one of those, they sucker would be broke from going off so much.

The Circus

The circus came to town this past week. Ami and I decided Madison was old enough to go so we decided to take her. After a long and event filled weekend, I thought the circus would be a tension and stress breaker. We get to the BJCC an hour and a half early so we could find parking and not have to fight traffic and people. Apparently everyone else thought the same thing. We end up parking 43 miles away and walking 52as the BJCC is the most confusing building ever built. Leave it to some architect to want to make a building asthetic looking but forgetting its a building and should be easy to go in and out of. Noone cares how artistic the design of the building is except for the 45 art nerds in Birmingham. All we as humans want is a building that we can go in watch the event, leave, and find our car as soon as possible. So we finally get in the building. There is circus memorabilia everywhere. Things that light up, swords, battery powered things that spin, and stuffed animals. The same stuff you can buy at the dollar tree except this stuff has "Ringling Brother's Circus" on it so that way they can charge $100 dollars for a stuffed elephant, $12 for an elephant cup, $20 for a plastic sword. And EVERYONE was buying that crap except for the Letson's. Fortunately Madison isn't old enough yet to want everything she sees. So we ended up buying a thing of popcorn and keeping the paper popcorn box that had the circus logo on it for her a souvenir. She really does love it. Last night she kicked her baby doll out of the bed and slept with her new box. So we go in find our seats which are right down front, so I was pumped about that. Now if something goes wrong with an elephant stepping on the trainer or a tiger getting pissed and biting the ring master, I will be there to see it. Or if the tight rope walker falls, he/she will hit the ground right in front of me. Deep down we all know we go to these things so we might be able to see something cool happen that wasn't meant to happen like the guy getting fired out of the cannon and the controller putting just a little too much juice in the gun and shooting the performer just a little to far. That is why there are shows like "When Animal's Attack" or "Wicked Attraction" because we just have to watch this idiots do stupid stuff. So we found our seats and we take Madi down on the floor to see the animals and watch some of the clowns and performers doing little tricks and shows before the main show starts. I have to tell you, I appreciate these people trying to entertain my kid as well as many others, but dang these people are a little strange. This one guy entertainer was dressed in balarina shoes and colorful body suit, so tight EVERYTHING was visibly contoured. For a second I thought he was only wearing body paint. He was a Latin American man about 40/45 years old, 5'5, 140 lbs, and was twirling a laso around. Yes that was his "talent". So he would twirl the laso around then wave a kid from the crowd out to him to get in the middle of the laso with him and take a picture. For me to watch this was just a little bit weird as the guy was a little bit fruity. So then we go watch the zebras and horses then watch a bunch of Asian guys throw hats up into the air and catch them on their heads. There were about 8 of them doing this and everytime they threw their hats up, at least 3 or 4 would not catch their hats on their heads. I was not impressed at all. It was a very weak showing from our Asian brothers. So we watched a few other acts and met a few clowns who some scared me worse than Madison. There is just something about a clown that is spooky. It might have been when I was little and watched the movie "It" about that clown that killed people. But for some reason clowns just don't amuse me. After we visit the floor we go to our seats for the show to start. The first act was the horses and zebras. There were three rings set up. Two for the horses and one for the zebras. The horses would go around and do tricks like stand up and turn circles and all that stuff. The trainers really knew what they were doing. But all the zebras did was walk around in a circle or job in a circle. The only cool thing was when one of the zebras took a leak. It absolutely soaked the whole ring as it looked like a pressure washer going off. So near the end of the horse show, in the far ring one of the horses started getting a little wild and kicking and crap. I was like "Oh yeah here we go, a little action!" 4 or 5 guys jumped in the ring and started grabbing horses and trying to calm them down. The girl trainer started freaking and didn't know what to do. Obviously she was there for her looks and not her training ability. So the horses leave and the clowns do their thing as well as other acts. So then these two dudes come out dressed like dudes from "Ben Hurr" movie. They are both bald, extremely fat, walking like giants with scowl looks on their faces. They proceed to pick up a about 12 foot log, like a telephone pole and throw it around back and forth to each other like a stick. Then they let clowns hang on it and they threw them around. After about 5 minutes of watching the world's strongest man competition they exited the stage. But that wasn't the last of these two meat sticks. Later in the show they came back out. Let me paint this picture for you a little better. Have you ever seen couples ice skating? They guy throws the girl up in the air, holds her up over his head and twirls and stuff like that. Well imagine two men, 300+ lbs, about 6'-4 doing that to each other. We look up and one guy is standing on the shoulders of the other, then they are doing some weird sexual pose together, then one is twisting the other around his body like a hoola hoop or nun-chucks. Ami and I and the dad's around us were like what the heck? We were all laughing as this homo-erotic duo proceeded to do the dance of passion in leather straps, shirtless, their bodies rubbing all over each other. It was the gayest thing I've ever witnessed in real life. Noone clapped. We all felt so violated. I could feel my manhood go into hiding. We did some funny stuff together in the lockerroom sometimes in the shower, but nothing like what these two dudes did. This level of eroticness was rated R and there we were watching it in person with our children. The men in the audience couldn't even look at each other after seeing what just happened. It was if we had all just seen each other naked for the first time and accidentally bumped into each other while picking up the soap. After being violated, the tigers and elephants each came out and did their thing. These animals hated their lives. How could you tell Wes?, you ask. Well trainer almost had his leg taken off by one of the pissed off tigers he was yelling at to lay down. When he lined them all up to stand on their back legs, all of them of them were snarling at him and growling as if they were all about to attack him. If they all decided to get together and take this dude, there was nothing he could do but hope he died quick. There were guys lined up around the outside of the cage, but these were brothers from the hood and little mexican men. If those tigers went crazy these guys would have beat us to the doors. These tigers were awesome to see though. There was one that was a good 100 lbs bigger than the next tiger. This guy was freaking huge and his paw was twice as big as the dudes head. Next the elephants came out. They looked so happy to be there holding on to each other's tails and then standing up and sitting down on command. It looked like it took everything these poor animals had just to lay down and get back up so it was no wonder why one elephant hesitated for a good 30 seconds before laying down. The trainer yelled and yelled to get this thing to lay down. You could just see the elephant saying "You butthole, I am tired of laying down and getting up everyday just so you can look like you have tamed the wild. Screw you." I wasn't in the least bit entertained by this guy being able to make these beasts do these tricks. Just seeing these guys walk around and being the biggest land mammal next to these little people was cool enough. You put an elephant next to a tiny Mexican man and these things look gigantic. So after the elephants came out we headed for the doors as we knew the show was almost over and Madison had had her share of the circus. We tracked the 43 miles back to the car and headed home. As we all got ready for bed, I couldn't even let Ami see me naked as I got in the shower as images from the circus strongmen still made me feel as if I had been the guy in only leather underwear rubbing chests with another man and putting my sweaty hands on the body of another man. So before you think the circus is all fun and games, think again. It could be the window to world of homosexual gladiators.

Setting the Record Straight

Many of you may not know the story but most of you do. This blog is created to set the story straight on exactly what happened the day I saranaded the BSC campus with Kenny Chesney's "Me and You". It was a Wednesday if I remember right. The baseball team was off playing at our in-state rival, Alabama A&M. I stayed behind to focus on academics as it was passion. After studying all day and doing several art projects, I went down to the field to throw and workout for my start the coming Friday night. As I was out on the field running and going through my workout routine. I noticed three lovely young ladies sun tanning out on the Striplin fitness center porch which overlooks the baseball field. One of the young happened to my a young philly I was dating at the time, now married to. Being the Romeo I am, I decided to go up into the press box and sing her and all the ladies at BSC who dreamed on each night, but mainly for Ami. So I powered up the mic, slapped on the radio and Kenny and I sang a duet together. About a quarter of the way through the song I noticed people coming out of their dorm rooms, professors stopping classes, campus police on their radios, even four frat guys holding their lighters in the air. Ami, Kristen, and Leslie(not Dean as we broke up 5 motnhs earlier), the other two girls with Ami, were all crying from what I could see. As I poured my heart and soul into that song, you could feel the emotion blasting all across the BSC campus. Based on when some of the birthdays of the kids who parents attended BSC that day, 8 babies were concieved at about 3:28pm that day. By the time I finished the third verse, all the guys on the bus headed back from the game knew I had sang on the field. There were stories that I was shirtless, which was fabricated by those who wish they could experience such beauty. There stories that even I cannot say on here. And yes, Coach Shoop did call me into his office the next day to talk to me, but it wasn't to scold me but to tell me that Mrs. Shoop had heard me and wept tears of joy. But after 7 years of silence, today I chose to break it and tell the truth of what really happened that day. So for those of you who have wondered if the stories were true or false now you know the rest of the story.

The Gym

I know many of you reading this have at some point worked out at a gym. I recently started going to a newer gym that is closer to where I work. I go every morning around 5:30 am. Why so early you ask? Well I like to workout with as few people as possible so that I am able to use whatever machine I want and don't have to wait on the guys who like to look at themselves in the mirror between sets. So anyways, usually there is only one other person who works out at that time of the morning. He is a big fat red-headed dude with a little head. He is about 5'-9, 300 lbs with boobs bigger than my wive's. Seriously to paint a better picture of this guy for those reading this, if you take an orange and place a grape on top of it, that is what he looks like. He loves to put a ton of weight on the whatever machine he is doing then proceed to use his entire body to lift that certain weight. For example if he is doing pulldowns, instead of using just his back muscles and arms to get the weight down, he will basically uses all 300 lbs to move it. He walks around the gym like he is Conan the Barbarian with shredded body like mine and wears some of the raggedest workout clothes possible. He has more fat rolls than Golden Corral, yet thinks he is in great shape. Never have I seen him on a treadmill the 2 hours he is there. Never have I seen him do a ligit leg workout either. He just seems to want to do arms. When he does bench he loads it up and only have to lower it 5 inches before it hits his utters. So last week I was working out and started feeling bad after a few excersises so I went and showered and started to leave. So as I am leaving, 2-ton Tim stops me and says "Why do we even pay to workout?" Referring to me leaving early. I would have thought he was joking but based on his seriousness, I knew he wasn't. So I just said "Yeah" and walked on. Then after what he said soaked in I gotta little fired up. How does some fat lard tail dude tell me who is 1/3 his size that I need to work out more and hint that the workout regiment he is on is somehow going good for him. Yeah his arms look HUGE in his old nasty T-shirt, and so would mine if my body fat percentage was 99%. It's one thing for girls to have canckles but a grown man who supposedly works out having them is disgusting. When you have to put your car on to go somewhere, you're a little bit bigger than most. So then this week rolls around. I was to tired to workout Tuesday so I stayed in bed and slept in. Wednesday morning I go to the gym. I see fat Opie working out. As I make my way in he makes a bee line straight for me. "Where were you yesterday?", he says. As if I missed a workout with him or I stood him up. This guy acts like just because we happen to workout in the same place, then we are meat heads together. It's one thing to be told I am not doing enough by a guy who is a specimen body builder but to be told to do more by a guy who probably has a cheeseburger from the night before wedged under one of his tits is just not cool. Honestly people who workout and try to be the information guru to everyone in the gym as if they wrote the book on working out is straight gaaaay in my book. I mean seriously the way the guy struts his stuff around the weight room, you'd think he was Mr. Olympia back in the 80's.