LOL, found this on getbig forums, what is your opinion?

Not sure if this is a repost....

"A Day In The Life of a NPC/IFBB Female Bodybuilder...



7:18pm : Avoid Big Mike Cox's call for the 5th time today. Feel remotely guilty for blowing him off all the time. Scratch that. If the dude doesn't want to pay for your TITS or pay your cell phone bill every month then he deserves it.



7:30pm : Log online. Skim through e-mail. Negotiate with special ' fan ' that to purchase your soiled panties it has to be $200 fundable by PayPal despite how many thongs, bottles of urine and used unwashed gym socks he has bought over the last 2 months. Be sure to end the e-mail with... " Love ya! Thanks! =) "



7:42pm : Check PayPal account. Noticed that another ' super fan ' deposited $150. Remind yourself to sit on top of a glass jar and pass wind into it and quickly seal it before the gas dissipates. Be sure to send that out EXPRESS tomorrow morning. Love how UPS has their " If it fits, it ships " policy.



8:05pm: Turn the TV on to reruns of Friends. Tell yourself what SCHMOES these guys are. Convince yourself that David Schwimmer is the biggest schmoe of them all. Totally believe that you can take all those dorks and make them your sex slave because you are a modern day buff goddess compared to those skinny bitches.



8:16pm: Go into your purse and open up your new package of Duracell AAA batteries. Out with the Old and In with the New as you load your new Pink Dolphin vibrator. Lay on the kitchen floor naked except for your Sketchers Shape Ups on and fantasize about your nutritionist and insert the Pink Mr. Wonderful as deep inside of you as you can. Squirm around in a sea of ecstasy and flop around like a fish until you notice a small warm puddle underneath you. Wonder if it was your new Dolphin or that 80mg tablet of Lasix you took an hour ago. Giggle as you remember the nikname ' Gusher ' that you were dubbed by that bald bodybuilder dude you were fucking a couple summers ago.



8:35pm: Clean up. Throw the Dolphin in the sink. Prepare your next meal of 8oz of salmon and 16 asparagus sticks with 1 table spoon olive oil. Up it to 20 asparagus sticks as your next client who is on his way over to your apartment has a peculiar taste for asparagus and you guarantee customer satisfaction.



9:10pm: Prepare for your client. Pull out the massage table, synthetic hospital gloves since your client has a latex allergy, the lavander oils and light the eucalyptus candles. Dig out your Lords of Acid cd and softly play it in the next room for backround noise.



9:25pm: Pop 2 xannie bars, 10mg of anavar and 20mg of Lexapro. Wash it down with a self made cocktail of tequila, skyy vodka, white zinfandel, Cell Tech and crushed ice. Think about how the Working Girl is such a sucker. Wonder if the actor Chazz Palminteri who played Sonny in ' A Bronx Tale ' is a schmoe. Bet to yourself that if he met you he would become one. Make note to yourself to find an older Italian 'sponsor'.

9:30pm: Open the door for your client. Compliment him on how good he looks in that baige trench coat. Politely ask him how his wife and children are. Pretend to be interested on how his son " Tyler " had a soccer game earlier and how his daughter " McKenzie " is taking tap lessons. Lie and tell him how much you love soccer and how you also took tap lessons as a toddler.


9:35pm: Lay client down on massage table. Tie his hands to the table with plastic zip cords. Lather his chest up with the lavender oil and ask him if he's been a bad boy. Yell at him to shut up as he tries to answer. Pull out your Chewbacca mask and put it over his face. You hate thinning hair and goatees! Massage his skinny fat body. Humiliate him by telling him how worthless he is and how he is your slave. Make him endlessly beg you to massage his prostate. Press on his prostate like it's an elevator door button. Duck out of the way as he releases. Remind yourself to put the synthetic gloves on next time.

9:53pm: Give him his Happy Ending since he's been a good Piggy. Take the Chewbacca mask off of him and straddle the table and squat down sumo style over his face. Release your ambience of asparagus all over his goatee and into his mouth. Tell him if he loved his goddess he would gargle it and swallow it down. Pat him on his head and tell him what a good slave he is. Release him from his prison of bliss. Collect $100 for your half hour of work. Let him wash up and remove all evidence before he goes home to his true secret life in Suburbia.


10:15pm: Log onto Herbiceps.com under your pseudonym. Check quickly to see if Illinois is still blocked. Yep. Carry on as you are taken in private rooms while you show the nameless faces on the otherside your Flexin' To The Oldies, routine. Feel a sense of satisfaction that your routine was awesome as you noticed they only were logged on for 4 minutes. Curse yourself because you were hoping to make at least $150 tonight. Blame your parents for creating such an awesome specimen. Wonder if your dad is really a schmoe. Note to yourself that ALL men are fucking schmoes and they all need to pay your bills while they squeal like the piggies that they are. For you.


10:32pm: Go into the kitchen and inject 2 iu's of jintropin into the pinch of skin over your abdomen. Now fumble through your refridgerator in pursuit of something sweet to swallow. Wonder why you all a sudden have these wicked sweet tooth's all the time. Wonder if your nutritionists diet is causing your blood sugar to SWING as often as you do. Ignore it and open your empty bottle of Lipolyze where you stash your Vic's at. Pop 3 vicodins and grab your purse. Tear through your purse because you know you have that 10mg oxy tablet somewhere at the bottom. No.. that's a Tic Tac. Flip your purse upside down and violently shake it's contents out. Desperately crawl around on the floor for that 1 pill tearing through everything in your way like you were on the game show Double Dare. Bingo! Swallow it down and be thankful that you aren't a pill junkie like those other bitches at Gold's.


10:49pm: Drive over to 7-11. Grab a pint of Chunky Monkey, chocolate milk and 3 Zingers. Wonder what the fuck that fat bitch in line is looking at as she looks you up and down with an expression of confusion on her face. Convince yourself she is shocked to see the Zingers because she obviously missed them and you know she eats them. Place items on the counter. Take a small step back as you notice the gleaming white teeth and smiling face of Ackbar as he rings you up. Gosh, how these fans gross you out. Compliment him and ask him if he's been hitting the gym. Willingly tell him that the ice cream, chocolate milk and Zingers are not for you because you would never ever eat that stuff. Recieve his compliments well. Gladly give him your buissness card. Yes. Tell him he can call you Kat, Kit, Kitty or whatever he likes. Remind him that you are a professional massage therepist. Laugh at whatever the hell he just said because you can't understand that Temple of Doom accent. Leave with telling him to call you soon to set up an appointment. Say " Love ya! Bye Bye, hun! "


11:18pm: Flip off your Sketcher Shape Ups across the room and run to the kitchen to grab a spoon. Devour the Chunky Monkey ignoring the brain freeze because the vicodin is kicking in. Swallow the Zingers and wash it down with the Deans Chug a Lug chocolate milk. Grab your HUMULOG out of the refridgerator. Inject 10iu's of insulin so you don't get fat. Think to youself how cool it would be to be diabetic. Wonder if diabetes runs in your family. Make note to call your mom tomorrow to ask her.


11:54pm: Log onto Facebook. Put your degree in computer science to good use as you hack into your friends accounts to read their personal messages because you are trying to figure out who you can and cannot trust. Blame the haters, bitches and drama queens at your gym for the reason you resort to that. Crack a devilish smile across your face as you imagine a plan to turn out their husbands and boyfriends to be one of your dog sucking slaves in the near future.


12:33am: Pop another xanny bar with another 20mg of Lexapro, 3 Somalyze and teaspoon of phenibut. Run bath water. Pass out in the tub. Wake up 3 hours later when your iphone rings tripping your ' Ima B ' ringtone. Ignore it as it's your Figure girl-friend who probably woke up at Witching Hour and had a mini-meltdown swallowing a whole jar of peanutbutter.



3:39am: Stumble over to the massage table and fall into a xanax, Lexapro and phenibut coma again. Ignore your barking Yorkies as they obviously have to go outside.


7:03am: Wake up and roll off the massage time. Pop 50mg of ephedrine, 60mcg of clenbuterol, 25mcg of T3 an aspirin and brew coffee. Pick out what you're going to wear for cardio. Ah ha! Species tights and RX Muscle t-shirt. Stand in front of mirror and wonder how visible your Penoris is through those Species tights. That's right. Leave them on. Somebody out there like it. Obviously.



7:25am: Head over to the gym. Tell yourself that if that big black trainer sweats you one more time then you are going to make him your slave and lick the dog shit off of your shoe upon command. Wonder if that is politically correct to say. Rationalize it by reminding yourself you voted for Barack since he is pro-entreprenuers and free enterprisers such as yourself.


8:47am: Head back home to prepare for your work day. Text your trainer and tell him you are having impure thoughts about him. Wonder why you've been so horny and so Sexless In The City. Make mental note to yourself to inject whole ampule of that sustanon250 since you forgot to use the 1/2 of it yesterday. Be sure to add the 100mg of Masterone with it. Again... wonder why you've been so horny lately.


9:17am: Prepare Meal-1: 2 whole eggs, 5 whites. 20mcg of clenbuterol. 10mg anavar. 1mg of nolvadex.


9:34am: Log online. Check your e-mail. Reply to a fan... " I just sent it out. Hope u enjoy! Thanks! Love ya! =) " Reply to another fan... " I would be happy to send you a piece of my shit. Absolutely you naught boy! Wink PayPal me $150 and it will go out today. Thanks! Love ya! =) "



9:48am: Log off with disgust as you are thouroughly convinced that all men are skat freak schmoes and completely twisted freaks as you go outside and scoop up a pice of your Yorkie's shit out of the backyard to put into a small glass jar. Carefully pick out the small blades of grass out and various twigs. Seal the lid and wrap it in gift wrap along with your gas bomb in a jar from last night. Carefully label the addresses and place carefully in the right boxes. Tape boxes. It's truly a hardknock life... for us.



10:50am: Get a call from Jeremy. Hit ignore and feel kind of bad since he genuinely does just want to talk and see how your prep is doing. Text him back.. " hey busy rite now ttyt.. thanks! love ya Smiley "


11:20am: Prepare Meal-2. 5oz of grilled chicken breast, 1 cup of greens. 20mcg clenbuterol. 10mg anavar. Eat and head back to the gym for a little GTL.


11:55pm: Train. Scan the gym and be glad it's not crawling with the villagers that live in that area. Ewww! Such schmoes those men tend to be. Suspect every red blooded male in the joint to secretly want to be your slave. Feel a certain level of glee as you curl the 35lb dumbbells next to the future potential slave next to you curling the 25's. Notice the 5:00 shadow on your jaw line in the mirror under the lighting. Scratch off the idea that it might be because of the androgens and blame your grandmother's grandmother for being 1/2 Italian. Stupid genetics.


1:10pm: Finish training. Head to the tanning bed. Strip down and carefully place the Playboy bunny sticker on your hip. Rub your Australian Gold Creamy Gelato all over you. Wonder why everything has a sexual undertone. Wonder why you're so horny. Wonder why your coach didn't text you back yet. Wonder if you should bring your Pink Dolphin back and give that Silicone Taffy Tickler a good ol' college try later.

2:02pm: Drop off the gifts at the UPS Store. Wonder to yourself if you have any issues or if you are a bit psychotic for sending your physical excretion in the mail all over the country so often. Lie to yourself and Just Dance while you tell yourself that you are just psychotic sync hypnotic, you have your blue burners and phonic, half psychotic sync hypnotic you're on your way to get your electronic as you drive to the Pleasure Chest to pick up that Taffy Tickler. Self Service yourself on the way there. Gosh! Wonder why you are so horny. Try not to stare at self in your rearview mirror. Your stubble comes from your distant relative. Remind yourself how cheesy you think The Jersey Shore is anyway. Scratch the idea of finding an older Italian sponsor. Rationalize by telling yourself they may rub off on you. Literally. Pun intended.



3:45pm: Leave the Pleasure Chest with your Silicone Taffy Tickler and a chrome metal Bean Buzzer since it was too cute to pass up. Drive home fast cranking the radio as you jam to Ke$ha's TIK TOK singing along like you're auditioning for American Idol. Gosh. Simon is such a schmoe, you can tell. Notice your voice sounds NOTHING like Ke$ha's. Blame an upper respiratory infection or the hot spices you've been putting on your foods lately. Remind yourself to plunge 100mg of primobolan in your thigh as SOON as you get home.



4:23pm: Prepare Meal-3. 8oz of salmon, 1 cup of greens and 1 teaspoon of macadamia nut oil. 20mcg of clen and 25mcg of t3 just goes without saying.



4:50pm: Decide it's time for a cat nap before you go hard to work later in the evening. Take your afternoon nap cocktail of nubain, Lexapro and Valium to put you down for a couple of hours. Lay in a comatose stupor dreaming about your nutritionist finally giving in to your advances. Wonder if there is a land where schmoes do not exist. Wonder if siouxcountry is a McDreamy or a McCreepy. Consider dating Tre if he wasn't... you know. If Tre wasn't... you know.



7:17pm: Wake up in a puddle of your own drool to your ringtone of David Duetta's Sexy Bitch. Big Mike Cox again... Press Ignore."

LOL, busy day

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