Monday, May 28, 2012

Memorial Day, Hot Dog Buns and Being Unlikable


Hey Shank,
I know you talked about this subject last year but could you please help me out.  This weekend my family is having it’s annual Memorial Day Picnic and I have to deal with my Brother in Law “a.k.a Super Personal Trainer” Phil.  He is basically an unlovable version of George Constanza:
(Just remember when you go swimming this weekend…it probably wasn’t that big to begin with anyway.)  
When this pudgy bastard (kind of funny considering he is a trainer) isn’t going Paleo and telling me to ditch the bun, he is going Vegetarian and telling me to ditch the hot dog.  What gives?  Guys like this make Fitness so confusing.
Signed,
Al “Lighter” Fluid (Authors note:  I hope there is a Mets or Yankees fan out there that gets this.)

Dear Al,
Let me be brief with this one, given that it is really freaking hot outside today.
I don’t know this Putz you call a Brother in Law but I can tell you this.  If I was to write a book “How to NOT win friends and Influence People” I would title Chapter 1 “On Memorial Day, Give People Crap about this”:
(I see Blue and he looks Glorious…but seriously, that is one plate of AWESOME right there!)
And I would title Chapter 2 “When They Should be Remembering This”:
(Does this picture disturb you?  If it does then good because that means you have a soul.)
In all seriousness Big Al, if they ever change the law which made it illegal to punch somebody in the face the first people that should be beaten down are those who tell you to skip the bun or pimp Vegetarianism at a Memorial Day Picnic:
(I can hear the quote now “Well, if you took the time to study human biology like I have you would know that low carb diets have obvious advantages in that…POW!)
In closing your Brother in Law is a douche.  Whether you eat the Bun or Eat the Dog today is irrelevant.  It’s what you do the other 350 Days of the year that are not a holiday which really matter.  And when it comes to Phil tell him to mind his own business.  Or better yet tell him to take his opinionated ass over to the Wounded Warrior Website and make a donation:
Till next time,
Yours in Chocolate Chip Cookies (and Hot Dog Buns)
Mike Cruickshank
(If she could have him back today, do you think she would be wasting time talking about how “Meat is Murder” or “Carbs are the Enemy”.  The answer is no.  She would be cherishing the finite time we have with those we love on this Earth.  That’s what days like today are all about.) 


Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Protein Shakes, Building Muscle and Breast Milk


(A special thanks goes out to Time Magazine for inspiring some of the content of this post due to the probability that it’s editors must now be smoking crack or something.  On a personal note I feel no shame putting this picture up given the fact that this kids life is already ruined by his self absorbed mothers need to let everybody know how hot she is.)
“If your Calvin Kleins are becoming Calvin Lines you might want to think about not drinking powdered, poison protein powders anymore”
So saideth Paul Chek, a noted International Lecturer/Strength Coach/Holistic Health Care Practitioner/Guy who likes to stack rocks and walk around with his shirt off while looking at the awkward stares of people after he tells them his age and they are amazed that not every man over the age of 50 has to have a pair of man boobs/master of alliteration.
(This is Paul Chek and his collection of amazingly large rocks.  Surprisingly he does not have an amazingly large collection of broken toes to go along with it.  I always wondered why his incredibly organic diet never permitted him to grow massive amounts of hair.  Then again I don’t think we will ever get an answer from him on that one.  Still, the guy looks good.)  
As always I like to start some of these wackier blog posts off with a good Picard Face Palm.   I feel it is appropriate to set the right mood.
(Even the Captain of the Starship Enterprise will be overwhelmed by the amount of stupidity that is about to follow)
Hey Shank!
It’s me again!  The 100 pound weakling!  You remember don’t you?
In my quest to gain weight, meat girls (Authors note:  That was not my misspelling it was his, I kid you not), and earn self respect I ran across this guy who calls himself “The Virgin”.  He sells this amazing product called “Super Mammary Milk 3000″.  
He swears it will help me accomplish all my hopes and dreams!
(A very famous person once said “There is a sucker born every minute”.  Hence the lollipop reference.  On a side note the people at Shutter Stock have recently replaced the people at “The Shake Weight” for the most overtly sexual product placement/visual graphic of all time.)
“The Virgin” told me that it is the superior ratio of Whey Protein to Egg and Casein along with Probiotics, Digestive Enzymes, Creatine, Vitamins, Minerals, Glandulars, Colustrum and Growth Factors that make this product so powerful!  He said all the Top Pro Bodybuilders including 10 time Mr. Universe Tommy “I hope girls don’t find out how small my penis is” McGirt, drink this stuff to put on size!
What do you think of that Tough Guy!
Signed,
The 105 pound Weakling (105 pound weakling note:  I actually felt myself gain five pounds of muscle just sitting here thinking about how awesome Super Mammary Milk 3000 is.)

Dear Buck O’Five,
Glad to hear from you again.  First off, don’t ever again try to steal my colored thoughts.  There’s a reason whymine are in blue and yours are in hot pink.   Now to answer your question there are only three things you need to concern yourself with when it comes to buying a protein powder:
1.  Do you like the taste
2.  Does the product mix well
3.  What is the product’s FARTABILITY FACTOR (Authors note:  I invented the concept of the “Fartability Factor” so if any of you dirtbags out there try to steal it you had better give my stocky ass credit for it.  Thanks.)
(Fartability…It’s science.  On a side note I am sure Mom and Dad are really proud they are dropping $20,000 per semester on such a fine education.)
When it comes to number one the answer is pretty simple.  Do you like the taste of the product or not.  If you don’t like the taste, nothing short of being Job will allow you to continue drinking it:
(This is Job.  He is a person and not something people are always looking for in a Country Music Song.  Widely known as the “Rodney Dangerfield” of Religion, he is a prophet in the Muslim Faith and has his own Book in the Jewish Faith.   As the story goes one day God was bragging about how awesome Job was which lead Satan, being his usual douche bag self, to question Job’s true loyalty to God.  What then ensued was one giant cosmic pissing match where a bunch of terrible stuff happened to Job .  Now that I think of it, the plot line was not much unlike that of Trading Places with Eddie Murphy and Dan Akroyd.  It’s one of those stories I learned about growing up in CCD that really pissed me off then and still does now.)
When it comes to mixability that is pretty simple too.  A high quality product mixes pretty easily and should not require a gas powered blender to work properly:
(That is friggin awesome!  The white trash side of me wants one of those so bad!)
Now when it comes to number three, the whole Fartability thing, that’s when the proverbial “Undergarments of the Issue” start to get a little murky.  Not to try and one up a legend that walks (i.e. Paul Check) but here is my quote when it comes to the “digestability” of certain Protein Powders:
“If you are leaving Stains in your Hanes then it might be time to move on with your life.  Either that or you should switch to eating chicken.”
So saideth Mike Cruickshank whose wearing of Hanes denotes the fact that he lives a much lower tax bracket than Paul Chek.
(Even Pauly D can’t tolerate a pair of dirty underwear hence why he walks around on camera with a pair attached to end of a stick.  Nobody ever said he made the smartest of choices in life.)
It turns out that some of the cheaper products out there tend to be made of less quality ingredients and/or are not processed very well thereby when they hit your digestive tract bad things start to happen.  Hence some of the underwear issues that the Moms, Wives and Girlfriends of these “Monsters of Muscle” tend to complain about as they sift through the laundry:
(Dirty underwear is Joe Weider Principle #2.  It sits right between Principle #1 which is respiration and Principle #3 which is split routines.  God I love Bodybuilding!)
Now while the only way to figure out how your body agrees with a given Protein Powder is to drink it there are some things you can look for on the label that might save you some unwanted trial and error.
What you are looking for when it comes to quality are primarily “Isolates” which represent a higher level of purification.  Less purification = more trips to the underwear aisle at Walmart.  You also want to look for Hydrosylates which are protein isolates that are processed further into more basic “parts”.  This allows the protein to be absorbed faster which has some definite benefits not limited to less skid marking.  When you see the word “Concentrates” that is not necessarily a terrible thing, it just means the purification is not as high.
While knowing any of  this will not guarantee so save your tighty whitey budget it is a good place to start.
As far as all that other crap is concerned with the growth factors etc. etc. etc. just know that it is really just that.  A bunch of crappy marketing nonsense designed to sell you a product:
(The scary thing is, their marketing is that good.)
(Seriously, it is.)
The only thing that protein powders are good for, at least when it comes to 99.999 % of the population, is as a decent substitute as a source of protein when you either cannot get to, cannot easily digest or you are just plain sick of eating regular food.  This can be quite understandable in Buck O’Five’s case since the average young guy needs to eat the equivalent of his bodyweight in grams of protein every single day, along with a rigorous weight training program, for anywhere from two to ten years non stop in order to build a quality physique.  I guess you can see how the sole consumption of dead animals, day in and day out for years on end, could eventually get a little tiresome in that regard.
Last but not least I want to address the whole “Celebrity Bodybuilder” angle:
(This is Jay Cutler.  He is a multiple time Mr. Olympia and a hell of a nice guy.  According to the powers that be he drinks a lot of this stuff…)
(Which is supposedly largely responsible for why he is a big as he is.  Too bad they can’t explain for…)
(His incredible Genetics.  His incredible, almost psychotic work ethic in the gym for the last 25 plus years or those pesky vials of whatever the hell that is which reside in the butter drawer of his fridge.)
Enough said.
Hope that helps.
Till next time,
Yours in Chocolate Chip Cookies (That’s right!  The stomach virus is gone baby!)
Mike Cruickshank
(At least in the movies the Big Cheeses get their just due for choosing to entertain themselves by screwing with peoples lives.)

Monday, May 14, 2012

It's Been a While


Hey Shank,
What the hell is up with you?  It has been weeks since your last blog post!
Signed,
Holden Caulfield
(Stupid hat Holden.  Really stupid hat.)
Dear Holden,
Thanks for your concern.  I must admit that I always thought you were a really tall bag of self absorbed douche, but your concern for my writing career makes me think otherwise.
I appreciate it.
The reality is that something happened in my professional life that really got me down.  Just like your creator, good old J.D. Salinger, I didn’t respond very well to the situation.  Then again at least I didn’t move away to New Hampshire:
(New Hampshire.  It really is a nice place to live.  They even have a beach.  It’s true.  Check a map.)
I think the issue was I was unable to admit to myself how much the whole situation really bothered Me.  Hence this Zombie like period of non creativity:
(I realize this movie was pretty terrible but the part where he delivers a pommel horse beat down to an entire village of zombie peasants is the definition of epic!)
The thing is, I have to learn to become more resilient and not let stuff get me down, or at least not let it get me down for so long.  I mean for Christ Sake, there are people out there fighting for their lives, busy giving the middle finger to Cancer and I am sitting here in front of my keyboard complaining about having nothing to say:
(A lot of us out there need to work on this.)
One of the many problems with allowing your self to stay down is that you can sometimes miss out on celebrating with others some of the good things that are going on in life.
For example, while I was away our Buddy Bro-Ski (you remember the not so little guy who needed rawhides), well he got his 75lbs Pit Bull Butt ADOPTED!
(Don’t get me wrong, I am always over joyed when one of the dogs finds their forever home.  I guess, like Red from Shawshank, I just miss my friend.)
And get this, my personal Physician Dr. Jerry Novack (who really isn’t a Physician, I just call him that) became an actual Doctor when he successfully defended his dissertation the end of this April!
(I realize that is Doctor Detroit and not Dr. Jerry Novack but since I didn’t know how cool Dr. Jerry was with me putting his picture up here this will have to suffice.  Hell, it’s close enough.)
And on a sad note, we lost a great one with the passing away of Adam Yauch (a.k.a. MC Adam Yauch a.k.a. Nathaniel Hornblower) who lost his fight with Salivary Gland Cancer:
(Dear God, I believe in you and all but the fact you took Cochese but left us with Justin Bieber really makes me question whether or not you know what the hell you are doing up there.  On the upside, a bunch of young kids, at least for a couple of weeks, got a chance to ask from the baby seat “Hey Mom/Dad, what the heck is it that you are singing up there?  No sleep until where?”.  The truth is this younger generation has no idea what it was like back when you had to actually fight for your right to party.)
So I now promise to all of you out there that I will do a better job.  I will do a better job at not letting the chunks of corn in the shit sandwich we call life get stuck in my metaphorical teeth.  Because you know when that happens I am essentially held down from helping you better digest the insanity we call the modern fitness industry.
(Pucker up boys and girls and grab your glass of milk because eventually we  all have to take a big bite.  The key is to just swallow it down as fast as you can so that you move on with your life.)
Till next time (which means very soon),
Yours in Chocolate Chip Cookies (actually it has been saltines and ginger ale since I am currently getting over a stomach virus),
Mike Cruickshank
(Coming up next I take on the wacky wild world of Protein Shakes!  Sadly enough, this one kind of looks a lot like the turd sandwich above.  Doesn’t it?)