Finnegan's Wake

What if he wants to improve or hit a new pr with teh hammerz? noob decrei
 
Zercher Deadlift
205 x 3, 2 sets
255 x 3
300 x 1
355 x 1
400 x 1, 25 lbs PR

Impressions
Video coming soon.
 
http://youtube.com/watch?v=5rMCMmsp8mI

I'm pretty proud of this lift. I tried to light it better, but my dungeon just seems to absorb whatever light I try to use. Oh well. Enjoy.

Impressions: My lower back hurts, but not too bad. I'm celebrating w/ a 6 pack of Harp (out of Guinness). I've got another bonfire to tend this weekend. Hopefully the DOMs aren't too harsh on me. If they are, to Hell with them!
 
That was fucking beastly! I thought that after you dropped the weight you would have sparta kicked the camera man into oblivion.
 
You're a fucking beast, that's an awesome zercher pull.
 
Fucking insane.....plus i like the 400 font in red......as in the 300........
 
nice zerecher! i cant even imagine that much for my wee self.

dont forget to do your active recovery workout!
 
Thanks everybody. DOMs from hell right now. The piper must be paid, I suppose.

The mschatz method of chalking the inside of the elbows worked much better than I thought it would. I'll definitely use this trick again instead of the wraps for friction.

I'm happy with this vid, even if it is too dark. The song used is "The Hot Gates", track 8 from the "300" soundtrack. I owe my roommate dinner for editing the video for me. I just kind of hovered around and directed.
 
Firetending
3 days.

Ugh. Fighting the rain sucks. 2 hours of sleep since Friday. Dying now.
 
Okay. A bit more an elaboration.
Day one: Didn't have to cut any wood, which is good because it raining like crazy. For once, the other woodbusters got there before me and had a nice stash to work from. Not a lot of people showed up, so I ended up downing a bottle of scotch in just under two hours. It gets kind of hazy from here. I was told that I assisted another firetender in testing the structural integrity of a lawn chair (i.e, he sat in it, and said "Sparta kick me!" I evidently decided a flying tackle was safer. The chair looks like it was hit by a truck.)

Day two (getting bad now...): Still didn't have to cut any wood. Awesome. No sleep from here on out. Fire was smallish (6 foot) and didnt' require too much effort. Got some good cardio in flipping logs. Also, brought out the CoC #2. Getting closer to closing it. Ash works okay as a chalk substitute, but not great.
We had an accident on the fire crew. One of our members slipped on the stone ring around the pit and went into the coals. He did what he had to do and rolled on his forearm and lower back. He is okay, but his left arm looks like it is panther spotted from the burns. Only a few will scar, but that is still a huge failure on our parts. He, of course, opted not to go to the hospital. Our first aid crew took care of him, and he was tending again the next night. Went off duty around 4 A.M. Got drunk again. Ugh.

Day three: (the day it all went wrong) We decided to cut down a tree that was dead in a nearby stream. This was tricky, but it resulted in a burnable hut-sized bowl of roots and a fair amount of base logs, etc. After that, it went to shit. The chainsaw went down. Then the backup chainsaw went down. The tractor on site went down. Basically, we felled this awesome burnding (burnable building) for nothing. The stream will almost certainly claim it before we are back at that site again (next year). Sigh.

Anyway, we still needed some wood, so I got work, old school lumberjack style. I felled a tree with an axe (first time doing this) and proceeded to cut it up. It was partially hollow, so that helped a lot. It was about 12-14 inches in diameter, and took about 10 minutes to fell.
Then, the rain came. A tornado was spotted near our location. Two of us bit the bullet and built the fire anyway, just in case the rain stopped. It didn't. It was slowing down, but it took its sweet time to do it.

Basically, three people sat out in the rain and made sure the fire stayed lit. The rain stopped after three hours, and the party ensued. I now have the onset of cold or worse, and to top it off, I got food poisoning from some undercooked meat. I tried to sleep, but the discomfort in my stomach was too much. I got up in time to call into work and to see that my car was now mired in from all the rain. Great.

Impressions: Worst festival experience this year. Glad I have a month off before the next one. I'm happy with the grip progression I've made so far, but other than that, I should have stayed home.
 
Not a lot of people showed up, so I ended up downing a bottle of scotch in just under two hours. It gets kind of hazy from here. I was told that I assisted another firetender in testing the structural integrity of a lawn chair (i.e, he sat in it, and said "Sparta kick me!" I evidently decided a flying tackle was safer. The chair looks like it was hit by a truck.)

That's an awful lot of badass to be fitting into one paragraph, but you pulled it off nicely.

Food poisoning sucks....

It was August, 2001. I was hung over and I'd slept way to long to jump back on the sauce, so I went to IHOP (International House Of Pancakes) to get some food to help quite the marching band in my head. Upon entering the IHOP, the smell of sweetness made me lurch. I almost lost control of my stomach while waiting for a table.

I often wonder what hell and purgatory are like. I'm pretty sure purgatory involves being hung-over and forced to wait in the "comfort" of an IHOP entry way. The benches make it impossible to find comfort. The mass of people in this confined space makes breathing a hazard. Everyone around you is wearing their Sunday church clothes and High Karate aftershave. They're judging your drunken ass and wondering why your eyes keep rolling back in your head. The tight quarters insist on an upright posture to prevent your head from coming into contact with the asses of the masses. An upright posture for me, when I'm hung-over, is my kryptonite. There must be a switch in my spine that causes instant nausea when I attempt to look respectable.

When I finally get a table, I'm greeted by faceless a-hole that might as well be speaking Yiddish. I can't even stomach the idea of pancakes and this would be my undoing. You see ladies and gentlemen, I learned a valuable lesson that day. When you go to the International House of Fucking Pancakes, you order the fucking pancakes. Did I order the pancakes? Fuck no. I hadn't had my little "revelation" yet, so I ordered Chicken Alfredo....at fucking IHOP.

Later that day I got exactly what I deserved, which is shit and puke exiting my body so fast that I could have swore my guts were on fire and all my bodily fluids were running for the nearest exit. I spent a day and a half shitting my guts out while trying not to puke on my dick.

Let this be a lesson to all who read this. When you go to a restaurant, you order what they're proud of. If you don't like what they're proud of, you get your ass up and move the fuck on.
 
Finn,

Badass stories man. Your life should be a fucking TV show.

bacon,

I came out of the womb knowing not to order anything but pancakes and/or sausage at IHOP. Hell, the lunch at Cracker Barrel is bad enough. On a side note, I one time found a roach (end of a joint) in the coffee pourer at IHOP. And I was young and stupid enough back in those days to actually smoke it.
 
Finn,

Want to get rid of that cold? (And anything else living inside you?) Chop up a raw clove of garlic and down it with a drink a few times a day.



Bacon,

I love you, and feel that you may have been my gay lover or twin brother/sister or something similar in a previous life.

*projectile vomits*
 
Bacon,

I love you, and feel that you may have been my gay lover or twin brother/sister or something similar in a previous life.

*projectile vomits*

I hope we were siamese twins. I always wanted to share an ass with someone...
 
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