Big Guy
I like being the Big Guy. I have always been big, and part of the time I have been fat, too, but I’m back to being just big.
I like that people equate my arrival with tectonic activity. I like that my stride is measurable on nearby geiger counters. I like that I have long arms and a tall and big reach (not as tall or as long as some, but adequate for me) I like that I’m big, and strong, and don’t have to prove anything to anyone.
Two things:
A long time ago, a friend got me into the habit of hitting things. Building columns, floors, anvils. he did it all his life- his knuckles were tough with callouses and the hide was thick and knobby over his fist. He said “if you spend your life hitting iron as hard as you can, a jaw feels like a pillow”. I fell out of that habit. I used to punch a brick as hard as I could stand, two, three hundred times a day. I fell out of the practice. I’ve started again.
I should start wearing a shirt that says “if it was me, you’d be dead” A cute picture of my dog for the first person that gets that reference.
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Shrek to Donkey referring to the smell of sulfur.
Because of you, I alway thoroughly check my six before ripping one loose on an escalator.
ROFLMAO! Nicely done, Dan.
I like being the big guy too… except when I’m trying to buy a car, or ride in someone elses; or in an airplane.
Even when I was under 10% bodyfat, my shoulders, hips, and legs… they just don’t fit into those spaces.
Yep. The world isn’t designed around a 56″ chest.
What are they feeding you apes these days?
Cripes, my son is an ape that bumps his head on the cealings and my grandson is going to be even bigger. He is 13 and already 6 feet tall!
It has gotten so bad now that they are putting these tall crappers in the latrines and I suppose they are fine for a sasquatch. For us normal sized fellers, you gotta climb up onto them and once you are perched on them you can’t take your ease because your feet don’t touch the ground and they fall asleep if you hang there long enough.
On top of that, I am convinced I am shrinking. Gawd I hate getting old.
rusty: switch to cold water rinse, maybe.
A friend of SWMBO just wrote to tell us her boy (the friend’s) is 6’8″, now.
Told SMWBO to pass along advise to stop with the Miracle Gro.
M
I am a small person. but I do carry a .45, just for you big guys;^) It must be the all the lead paint and DDT I ate while growing up. It could be the 66 Ford Galaxy that “shaded” me out because I was always under it turning wrenches.
I love being a runt pussy.
I stopped growing at age 13, 6’2″ 265lbs, with a 54″ chest, a 21″ neck and a 36″ waist, at around 12% bodyfat.
Right now, at just about 400lbs, about 40% bodyfat, I’ve still got a 21″ neck, but I’m up to a 58″ chest and a 52″ waist.
Almost all my fat is on my gut and moobs; and I’ve got about the same lean body mass I did then (though nowhere near as toned); I’ve just got the humongo gut on top of it.
If I stand up straight and square, and walk through a standard interior door frame, my shoulders brush both sides. They did at 13 too.
Last year my fourteen year-year-old daughter was blatantly groped in the a local shopping mall.
She’s left-handed, 5’10” and very strong from swimming and bicycling.
She slammed her left elbow up under Mr. Pervert’s sternum. Very Very HARD.
The security tape showed him collapse like a pricked balloon.
When he could inhale enough to speak, he accused her of attacking him.
The local PD said (with her out of the room) that if she had hit him just a bit harder, or the blow had been a bit differently targeted, or even if it had been at a different part of the cardiac cycle, he would have DIED.
No loss of course, but it would have been a hell of a burden for a fourteen year old.
She hit him so hard she was sore for days.
Mr. Pervert was already on parole, no surprise. They figure the violation will be good to keep him in for another three to five.
She should have hit hin harder. Those guys don’t learn, but they do die.
As to big guys, I’ve a few largish freinds and I’ll trust them more than most of the runts I know.
When a big guy whoops your ass, you have an excuse. When a little guy whoops you it’s embarassing.
“She slammed her left elbow up under Mr. Pervert’s sternum. Very Very HARD.”
If it happens again, use a fist to the testicles with the same force. He’ll remember it longer.
There are great advantages to being the “big guy.” I am 6’4″ and, at one point over 400. But it doesn’t roll and flow and jiggle. I subconsciously turn my shoulders for all 28″ and 32″ doors, otherwise I get wedged in. I drop a quarter through with light around it on the ring I wear on my right ring finger.
I couldn’t tell you when the last time I had to throw a punch was. Nobody ever tries anything, except for litte 5’3″ runts. One tried to belly bump with me in a tavern at a living history event. I would have pounded him into the ground but after I bumped him back and he staggered for 10′, he thought better of it.
I do get a lot of headaches though. Most basements suck.
I *used* to be a big guy. Now I’m just average.
It takes some getting used to – At one point I was 6′ tall (okay, I still *am* 6′ tall) and ~ 230 lbs. of (mostly) muscle. I worked as a bouncer one summer in a seedy bar in a seaside town, and my favorite mode of jerk removal was to pick up offending guys and literally lift them over my head and make for the door.
Interestingly enough, I almost ALWAYS took shit from the little guys – I could pick the guy out of the group. Usually under 5′ 6″, never more than 150 lbs., ALWAYS a loud mouth.
Now I’m down to 175 pounds. Could probably still lift the little guys over my head (okay, given that I can easily lift my boy I *know* I still can), but at this stage I’d just as soon skip the bars entirely…
Been buying clothes from “Omar the Tentmaker” all my life.