source: https://pixabay.com/en/guy-man-suit-railway-railroad-690483/;

A long time ago, during my bulking days, I read a disinformation article entitled “Bodybuilding Has Lied To You”. The main point was that you need an incredible amount of calories to get big “bodybuilding” muscles, and therefore junk food is your friend…sometimes.

Naturally, this notion turned out to be false, although many people continue to believe in the power of bulking to this very day. I was one of those people when this story took place.

I’ve come to the rather trivial conclusion that no matter who you are, there will always be something about your life that is going to suck. This is how nature achieves balance. Even if everything seems perfect from the outside, there will be misery eating you inside. You can be rich with a nice family, a good career and still complain.

Sometimes I think that I can achieve that balance by creating my own imperfections or in other words by voluntarily choosing to suck at something. You can look at it as a training cycle. Instead of expecting to keep on adding weight forever, you integrate planned breaks in your training schedule. It’s better when you plan those deloads yourself instead of letting gravity do that for you.

This is just a working theory and is not applicable to everything in life because as humans we don’t have that much control. We are just scripts running on the big computer. However, I often rely on this principle when it comes to nutrition – plan to fail instead of expecting to be perfect all the time.

One time I passed by a pizza corner selling pizzas, hot-dogs and pancakes on the street. The food looked delicious. I decided to do a planned fail and joined the queue.  A bald, short, muscular man was in front of me. He was doing an overload – two pizzas, two pancakes and a hot-dog. The food was covered in ketchup. He added tons of salt and a special pizza flavor spice too. The man was really big and had dark mafioso sunglasses. He reminded me of a bodyguard who does porn as a supplementary income. The guy was eating like a swine, food coming out of his mouth and ketchup dropping on his shirt. On top of everything, he was waiting for one more pancake with berries. The dude was definitely a permabulker on steroids because he was muscular and not fat despite eating all that garbage.

I ordered two pizzas and an extra large pancake with chocolate.

I took my anabolic bomb and initiated destruction at the corner of a small street in the area.

A large building in front of me was spewing all kinds of big shots. The men were wearing slick custom made suits, but I could still tell when there was a total bozo underneath. You can put knight armor on anybody, but that does not make him a warrior.

On the other hand, the women were what I call tuning based fake bitches. They were mob wives with too much money and free time to burn. Every single element on them screams pretentiousness and lacks charisma. You can see that they have money, but style is something you can neither buy nor fake when you are examined by a true hate king. Expensive glasses, golden rings, colorful dresses from sensible designers with flexible wrists…they had it all, but underneath was a hiding a cold person that only cares about shopping and getting ahead at all costs.

The phonies were going into expensive black SUVs with tint windows – a popular choice when you are a rich bastard. I guess driving this type of vehicle makes it easy to run over the screaming crowd. The minute their fat butts were in the driving seat, I could see their facial disguise morph into a grimace expressing only one thing – a desire to smash the insects.

This got me interested, and I decided to find out what’s this building all about. I went closer and read the signboard. It was the headquarters of the biggest cigarette company in the country. In brief, the rich motherfuckers getting out of this building had built their fortune by harming the health of their “customers”.

Those shameless pieces of trash were behaving like they own the world despite the fact that their whole wealth had been accumulated thanks to a harmful product.

When you confront people like that, they always find a way to rationalize their behavior. My favorite is “We don’t make people buy cigarettes.”

While this is true, there is no denying that the cigarette culture is a strong force with immense control. It’s not like people in movies don’t smoke, right?

Their next wave of defense is the usual populist statement – “We create jobs for the people.”

What kind of jobs do you create? You basically rob the workers who grow tobacco and then buy expensive jewelry for your wives while booking a session with minor prostitutes. Guess, what? The drug cartels producing coke are also creating jobs. What’s the difference? None. Those walking suits were nothing but a bunch of legalized crooks.

One of them passed real close to me with his SUV. A spoiled girl sitting on the back seat was playing on the latest iFone. She looked at me as if I were garbage. I guess the fact that I was eating street pizzas next to an actual trash can had something to do with it. That little pretentious bitch and her fat neck daddy made me sick.

“Look at me, I am holding an iFone and daddy is driving me around. All that we have is bought with stolen money, but that’s fine. Fuck the peasants.”

Who were those guys? A crook and his daughter. I felt like grabbing a baseball bat and smashing that SUV inside out.

Unexpectedly, a few minutes later, I felt a relief. My anger started to decrease. Why was I so angry in the first place? I was going to build me some nice muscles with my new bulking strategy. There was no need to stress over anything. The pizza and its extra calories were helping, right? I was going to be big and intimidate fat guys in suits forever. Money can do a lot of things, but it cannot buy effort and will power. Those pinheads in suits didn’t have it. I didn’t know any of them, and yet I could look deep into their souls.

In general, people are wearing two layers. The first layer is the commercial one. It’s formed by clothing brands, gadgets, shoes, titles and other external things. This is what we notice first, but if you try, you can often see past the surface. Underneath is the layer called real personality. It does not have a brand and remains invisible to those who don’t have an eye for the details, but I am not one of those people. I can read fake individuals, and those morons were as easy as grade 1 calculus.

To go home faster, I decided to use the metro, although I hate traveling underground. It’s depressing. Next to me sat a teenager who immediately started scrolling through his Facebook feed on a large smartphone. I was curious and tried to read his screen. I saw two things that got my attention. First, there were many fitness photos. I smiled and said to myself, “Cool. But, does he really know that the secret to getting big is eating tons of calories? Can he handle losing his abs?”.

The second thing was something that I have almost no words for. He decided to post a comment underneath a photo of a masturbation device. I don’t know how it’s called and don’t want to search for it on the Internet, so I will just tell you what I saw. It was an add-on for your iFone in the form of a vagina. Thanks to it you get to watch porn on your smartphone while sliding your dick into a plastic hole attached to the device. This is when I had one of those “back in my day” moments and stopped looking. This was already more than enough.

There is an old saying – “You will be judged by the company you keep.” In modern days, it could be translated to – “You will be judged by the things you like on Facebook.”

Today, I saw this old pizza corner full of sweet bulking memories again. I haven’t eaten there in at least 1 year. The place appeared to be exactly the same. There was a big tail of people waiting to get their portion of questionable nutrition.

I decided to visit the large building that used to spew greedy zombies in suits too. It was closed because rich people don’t work during the summer. For them, this is a time to travel and take a break from working so hard throughout the year. Eating at expensive restaurants, answering emails and driving the latest car models can be tiresome. I wonder whether the factory workers making cigarettes were also on vacation.

Everything came back to me, except that this time I knew better – bodybuilding had lied to me, but not the way the original article suggests. Eating calorie dense foods such as pizza is not the secret to muscular growth. The true lie of bodybuilding is that you can build Hercules’ physique naturally.

I started breaking down the contents of a typical pizza in my head.

The largest component is the base or the bread. It contains mainly carbs, and guess what? Carbs are made in China. They are cheap, available everywhere and yet not always the best choice. Out of the big three (carbs, protein and fats), those little bastards are the least important and have the lowest nutritional value. I am not saying that carbs will kill you, but they are not as essential as modern bodybuilders would want you to believe. Since the largest portion of a pizza is formed by carbs, the stocks immediately drop.

Next comes the content on top of the bread. Unless you are eating a really large pizza I doubt there are even 15 grams of protein in it. Meat and eggs are more expensive than bread. Thus, it’s more beneficial from an economic standpoint to put less of those on a pizza.

For this reason alone, it makes more sense to buy protein rich food directly instead of hoping that the guy selling pizzas on the street has your best bodybuilding interest in mind. All he cares about is profit.

Is pizza a good bodybuilding food that can help you build sickening muscle mass? I have to say that pizza is not bodybuilding approved, but it’s also not the worst junk that you can eat depending on the quality of the production.