Monthly Archives: December 2012

Attention Static


Both in their own lush of attention static, there aren’t any warrants but sameness and asymmetric freedom in routine.

He sits in his black slumped chair as if he owns the world right from his cushioned throne. The mouse between his fingers makes the click-tick noise pop off the ginormous monitor screen. Dabbles in type, type and creates auctions with a simple scroll.

She lays in the comfort of bed digesting a vocabulary book searching for endless information for the pyscho-aggression of her brain. Wide lit eyes lick from left to right hording the pages like a famine lover lost in a globe of speeding curiosity.

-Pennington

Shameless


Ms. Marvel 1

I haven’t been pissed off all day.  The day has been good to me and I honestly can’t complain although I tried on 6 pairs of Lululemon Athletica pants to find the perfect fit and eventually gave up though that was my Personal Best in a fitting room in my lifetime.  Oh and I failed with 2 1/2lbs dumbbells with a Master Trainer working on my rotator cuff injury.  But, the point is, I like to be angry.  So now I’ve been looking for something to upset me and naturally I found it!

Here’s the question:  Why would Pauline Nordin (creator and founder of FightDiet.com) openly and publicly bash Dana Linn Bailey (an IFBB Pro) on her Facebook Page?

I don’t understand it.  In general, I will never understand why women rather put one another down as oppose to lend a helping hand or “bigging them up” in the process of dedication and discipline in a world where we bleed monthly cycles, choose to give life and where religion crucifies us.  We need unity in order to reach the top globally.

Growing up I used to believe it was the men who kept women down (aside from powerful political positions, etc and such).  But the older I became, the more I started to observe how horrible women are to other women without rhyme or reason.  They just lash out for their own purpose, own agendas and quite possibly for no other reason than perhaps they didn’t bond with their biological mother or someone spilled coffee on their favorite blouse.  Who really knows?

So, no, I don’t agree with women hating on other women ESPECIALLY when it concerns bodysculpting and/or bodybuilding and all that applies concerning this subject.  It’s difficult for any woman to build muscle or to get super lean for thousands of reasons say hormones to holding a higher percentage of bodyfat than men.

And for a woman who’s supposed to be for women everywhere, who considers herself a business/professional woman and a public figure with lots of fans on her Facebook Page who constantly pushes her FighterDiet concept to everyone (to become lean and muscular) to state (while displaying a photo of DLB) that she finds another Fitness Model a Nay as oppose to a Yay and isn’t sexy or healthy is downright disgusting.  It says a lot about her character.  Mostly her flaws within them.

Why preach about being lean and muscular but get on another woman’s case for being exactly that?  It’s basically calling the kettle black.

For me, it’s important to have support, to never put people down even when they’re starting from a low place (or in this case super high place).  Naturally I would presume that the Fitness Industry should be here as a community of like-minded supportive individuals for crying out loud.  Granted we may not all see eye to eye or share the same physique ideals or have the same training/diet philosophies.  But this is why it’s important to be an individual, to be different, to be unique, to be humble, to have integrity.  But also to be respectful of others.

The fact remains that the Fitness Industry and the Fitness Enthusiasts and Pros should be the first to lend a healthy and high demand of concern and care for the very same people who put in their hard work and effort regardless of how one is perceived physically because their beliefs are “it’s not feminine or sexy-looking.”  And what does it matter to you/her if you aren’t the person you’re speaking of?  What’s feminine?  What constitutes as masculine?  Is it a label?  Or a matter of perception?  Are they illusions? Or a matter of stereotypes?

This woman Pauline isn’t immune to body issues like the millions of women on the universe.  There have been statuses and even blog related posts about how people get on her case for how she looks like:  Strong, muscly and very lean.  So to pick, give a public statement/opinion on another Pro’s body is outrageous and it comes off like a form of betrayal.  Mostly for every other woman who does take the art and sport of building muscle and getting lean seriously (which sadly, includes herself).

It’s 2012 and we’re going into 2013 and there are lots of women who still refuse to get a handle on things.  By things, I mean what’s wrong and what’s right. When it comes to assisting and encouraging other women with everything involving Fitness (and out of it) and their daily lives.  It’s a moral and dignity game.

Can women allow other women to live muscular and strong?  Can other women find it within themselves to learn how to be encouraging rather than put another woman down for being who she wants to be?  (Aside from sluts.  Fuck sluts! ;-))  When you judge someone based completely on looks (or money or what car they drive or what books they read), it says a lot about one’s character FLAWS.. especially when one is doing it in public for others (especially their fans) to see.

It’s utterly shameless.

-Pennington

Middle Design


adam_and_eve_by_Tokashi_Kimiko

We’d hangout every Saturday and Sunday evening making love to the steel plates, machines and barbells in the weight room. We’d give it all we got with our energy breaths, backbone and fervor and didn’t let up until hours later when it was autumn, cold, dark and the night fell full of empty heart.

We’d paused and lingered on one another between sets and smile like we owned the sun and I’d look up to your grace like an anchoring giant sitting in the middle of my heart’s desire and listened to your persistent sermons. Off onto the bus heading home crosstown I’d praised existence and its happiness all the sudden and turn my face away from the other passengers whenever I’d feel sullen about us.

I’d watch you watch me and you watched me watch you just like a crowd yet we were always at an extended distance with actions that were never to be spoken out and about. I’d wait around for you and asked if this is what you’d also wanted after I finished my exhaustive workout. You’d invite me into the locker room and performed a routine: mixing supplements, shaking your protein and layering up in clothing to either hide your muscles or create the illusion of bigger ones?

You have a knack for bringing up deep thoughts and heavy conversations when you flowed out of yourself like when you mentioned your father being murdered and how you only have one memory of him. I thought to myself, only you would know how to make the time in between grim and pick it up at a whim with a crafty grin.

But I’d remain silent, analyzing, hands folded, wondering why you’d come out the blue with these aching stories. Were you trying to test my comfort abilities? Or was this an unusual way of letting me know I’d be in the friend zone? If so, answer me please, so I can duly note it.

Remember when you asked me if I’m a patient person.
I do, and I’m sure you had a motive.

-Pennington

Dangerous like a Disease of the Skin


vampirella-21

I slide my body up and down against the wall, subtle foreplay within the public eye, or behind the private curtains of my shower and pretend it’s you.

What is this frenzy? This fire of insane desire.
The ability to cry without tearing just from observing the field of your view.

Early morning I inhale dreams of what we could be like smoke rising from my coffee, adrenaline on caffeine. Intricate and romantic as if we played the parts of honey bees.

I’m unclear as to what enchantment you cast upon me without true intention, initially under a pale moonlight. Yet I’m certain of what spell I’ve directed onto you with deep impression in sight.

You my dear are provoked like skin to satin.
And you make my days darling similar to carbs that fatten.

What compels me to touch myself even through the plague of my nightmares?
What compels me to call you near my endless thoughts like the Lord’s Prayer?

It’s not over until I declare it is. Rejection is a challenge I take pleasure in.
It’s patience that’s unforgiving. But I’m dangerous like a disease of the skin.

-Pennington©