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insomniamamma · 3 years

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The Song of The Wrong Response: Din Djarin x Gn!reader

A/n: Sorry everyone. I got bit by the angst bug and had to make it everybody's problem. This is a story about loss, and how we behave in the moment and what we do to cope. Atin'ika au. Atin'ika is Din's name for the reader. It means Stubborn (affectionate). This takes place after S2. The title is taken from a poem by Stephen Dobyns.

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Canon typical violence. Non-descriptive smut. Hurt.

The new ship is too quiet. Drops in and out of hyperspace without a hint of strain. You hate it. It's a quadjumper, mag-clamps and cargo crane stripped and swapped for twin laser cannon arrays and a very illegal comms jammer. An ugly, sturdy little ship, surprisingly nimble for her squat shape. You hate it. It's too quiet. It runs too well. There is nothing for you to do with your hands, nothing to do but sit in the passenger's seat and stare at Mando's back as he flies her, heavy silence spinning out between the two of you that neither of you know how to break. You almost wish for a malfunction, for something to break, for something to fix. A burst coolant line. A control board frying out. Something you can piece back together and make whole again, make good as new. This ravine that's broken open between you and Mando isn't something you can fix with your hands.

The stars know, Mando has never been a talker. But now? Here? In the after? Sometimes you swear you go days without hearing his voice. That can't be possible can it? Even for someone as reserved as Mando, as Din. That is another landmark of the after. You know his name. You've seen his face.

"I'm coming with you." "No," says Mando, "You're staying with Fett." "The hell I am! I can hold my own! You need my help!" Mando turns and grips your shoulders. He leans and and rests the cool beskar of his helmet against your skin. You're not sure exactly what he means when he does this. You do know that it grounds you, turns the tension down and you suspect it does the same for him. "Atin'ika," he breathes rough through the vocoder, "I know you want to help, but I need you to stay here. Please. For me." "But the Kid, Grogu--," "I will bring him back," says Mando, "I promise you." He gives your shoulders one last squeeze and releases you. "Go talk to Fett," he says, "Get acquainted with the ship. He'll tell you what to do."

"Power up those shields, princess, I'll put on a good show." Everything happens fast. One moment you're chasing the imperial shuttle, staging an attack and the next you're in the swirling blue of hyperspace. "Fett, you've got an amber-light on the hyperdrive coolant system." "It's instrumentational," he says, "Once we drop out of hyperspace you can run diagnostics if you wish." He brings Slave One out of hyperspace in a system with nothing but rocks and dust. A good place to hide. You hook up your data-pad and start running diagnostics. "Do you think they'll make it?" "You'd be amazed at what people can survive, little one."

The time between when you exit hyperspace and the comm-call comes feels like eons. Every nerve is scraped raw. And when the call comes it's Bo-Katan, her face hard, even through the distortion of the holonet. Two words that tell you nothing. "It's done."

You know something is wrong the second you step off Slave One's ramp. There is no one there to meet you. There is wreckage everywhere. Droids cut up and slagged. Dead storm-troopers. The air hangs heavy with the smell of burnt out electronics and cooked flesh. "Command is this way," says Fett, and jerks his head indicating for you to follow.

Cara stands over Moff Gideon, the barrel of her blaster jammed against his throat, a boot planted on his chest. Bo-Katan and Koska Reeves speak in sharp whispers, some of the words sound familiar, some you think you've heard. Mando'a, but you don't know enough to follow the thread of the conversation. Something bad has happened here. Where's Mando? You almost miss him. He stands stone still in front of the transparisteel view ports, beksar limned in starlight. "Mando?" He turns to you. His hands are empty. His arms are empty, "Where's Grogu?" "I was quested..." "Mando, where is he?" "The Jedi came for him," says Mando, and the t-visor of his helmet gives nothing, yields nothing. The sound that comes out of you is a broken, keening wail, something breaking inside for you that has no words, a pain with no shape. "He is with his own kind now," says Mando and turns his back, peers out into the black of space as you crumple to the deck plating.

That was the beginning of the after, a demarcation line drawn sharp across the two of you like a burn-scar. This was the desired outcome. The child (you can't bring yourself to speak his name, you learned his name and then he was gone in an eye blink like it was some sort of curse) is better off with his own people. Mando tells you this and you believe him, but at the same time his absence is its own weight, the absence of hard little claws tugging your pant legs when he wants up, the absence of snorting, sharp toothed giggles when you blew raspberries onto the pudgy join of his head and neck, the absence of Mando, Din, you have to keep correcting, rocking him in big beskar plated arms and telling him old stories from his covert. Knowing that he is safe and where he belongs does not make you miss him less.

In the after you have a ship that runs too well to need your attention. In the after there are no little clawed hands to hold in yours, no stories to tell, no songs to sing. There is just you and Din. And silence.

The new ship smells like disinfectants. Not too unusual. The previous owners transported exotic animals, Peli told you, everything's been thoroughly decontaminated of course. When Fett and Fennec dropped you off Peli started peppering the two of you with questions until her mind caught up with her mouth. "Oh, stars, is he--" "The kid's fine," says Mando, "He's with his people now." "Well," says Peli, "Baldy commed me and said you were in the market for a new ship. Lucky for you, I've got just the thing."

"You can't be serious," says Mando. "Okay, so she's not sexy like an ST-70, but she's got modifications that make her a little more versatile than your typical TUG-b13." Peli pulls out a data pad. "Here, lemme show you the specs." Mando and Peli haggle over the price but it's half-hearted, more of a formality than anything else. When the deal is done, Mando shakes Peli's hand. "'til our paths cross again," he says. Peli sighs. Her eyes move from Mando to you and back again. "What's your next move?" "Karga and Dune have offered me work," says Mando. "More hunting? Why? You're practically flush with credits." The small woman peers up into his t-visor, "I know you're a big boy and you can take care of yourself, but you ought to find a nice tropical backwater and rest for a spell. You both look terrible." Mando's body language had loosened some, but now he squares himself up again. "We keep moving."

"Kriff, Mando, whoever rigged the board for this comms jammer was either blind or high on spice--" "Din," he says, voice soft through the vocoder. You pull yourself from beneath the console. "Huh?" "My name is Din," he says. His voice is hesitant. "I...I'm not sure if it's right for you to keep calling me Mando. I am dar'manda. Do you know this word?" You shake your head, a kind of sick fear pooling in your stomach, but also hope. This is the most he's said to you since you found him on the bridge of Gideon's light cruiser. "I broke the Creed. I am no longer Mandalorian." "What do you mean?" "I showed the Kid my face," says Mando, no, Din, "And before that--" "At least you got to say goodbye." It comes out of you in a snarl. The thought that's been haunting you. The thought that circles through your mind again and again. The last time you saw the kid, really saw him was in the crook of Din's arm flying up towards that damned seeing stone, a swiftly retreating speck in the blue sky while you followed along on foot. Before all hell broke loose. You are sorry as soon as you say it, but can't say. The hurt and built-up resentment is too great. You see his body lock up over the controls as if he's been shot by a stunner. You flee.

He finds you down near the engine pods where it's warm. You've staked your little bit of territory here. He finds you curled against he bulkhead where the heat from the engine bleeds through a little, burrowed into your bedroll. "m'sorry, Mando-, Din," the words are so heavy on your tongue, "I just miss him, okay? I miss him so bad." "Come with me," says Mando, he holds out his hand to you, helps you up from the deck plating. He guides you to the bunk, bigger than the compartment he and the Kid shared on the 'crest. You sit on the edge of his narrow bed. Watch as he brings his hands to his helmet and lifts, and you twist your head away reflexively, press your hands over your eyes. "Mando--" his gloved hands circle your wrists, draw your hands away from your face, from your closed eyes, eyes that burn with tears that try to escape like blood from a cut. "Please look at me," he says, cradles your face in his hands, thumbs sweeping over your cheeks, "Atin'ika. Please." His voice without the vocoder is raw, that barrier between him and the world, between him and you stripped away. You open your eyes.

He is not what you expected. A tired face, etched with worry, older than you thought him, vulnerable, wide open because he's never learned to hide, his eyes meet yours reluctantly. You see worry and fear and shame. You mirror him and reach for his face slowly. His breath is rapid, hard rise and fall of his chest, you can feel him thrumming. You cup his cheek and feel him tremble at your touch, feel the brush of his stubble and his cheek muscle ticking beneath your palm. You close your eyes and press your forehead to his, warm skin instead of cold beskar, and you feel the tension bleed off him some. You lean into each other. Your hands find their way around his waist. His wrap themselves around your shoulders and you sway together, hoping the things you can't say can still seep through, from your skin to his.

In the after is where he kisses you, his lips and then his tongue hot against yours. In the after is where he fucks you and you fuck him, days in the swirling blue silence of hyperspace spent entwined, swallowing each other's cries, desperate and seething. He hunts. He brings back a bounty and shoves them into the carbon freezer. Then you fuck. You do not make love. He fucks you for the same reason he hunts, the same reason you never stay in one place more than a handful of days. Din is trying to outrun his grief. Trying to drown his pain. Trying to drown himself in you as if you are a river to swallow him down. He has split you open, shattered you and rebuilt you with lips and tongue and hands and cock, but he is elsewhere. The man who befriended you and entrusted you with the care of his ship, with the care of his son is gone. The man that remains is more open and more closed off. He fucks you within an inch of your life, you reduce him to trembling and pleading beneath you, and after, you hold each other, warm and sated, but it never lasts. The silence descends. The silence always descends.

Silence unbroken by the happy gabbling of a little boy causing chaos. Silence unbroken by barely remembered lullabies. Silence unbroken by you explaining the finer points of hyperdrive maintenance to a kid who probably could only understand one word in three, but liked to watch you work, and also liked to interrupt you with little tugs on your pant legs, little pokes of sharp yellow claws that said I'm hungry, I'm bored, let's play a game.

You wake slow and sore, but the right kind of soreness and again, Din isn't there. Sometimes he sleeps through with you but most times you find his side of the bed cold. Like now. You dress and know you will find him at the bridge, in the pilot's seat fully armored and staring into the blue smear of hyperspace. You know, you've known for some time that whatever this thing is between you, this desperate clutching and rutting of bodies followed by silence that can span days, the weight of everything he can't say and you can't say, this is going to rip you both to shreds. You speak to him and he answers but he's not here, his mind is elsewhere, you might as well be talking to a droid. Waking alone, again, with only the vague scent of his skin for comfort, you love him. You resent him. You hate him. You care for him. You have no idea how he feels for you. You shiver. The new ship runs cold, yet another thing to hate about it.

"Din?" There's no answer just his darkly shining form against the endless churning blue. "I want to go home." He doesn't look at you. Just flies the ship. "Where? Gythal-9? You hated it there." Tears prick your eyes, and slide soundlessly down your cheeks. Sometimes he sounds like he used to, like he's back in the world and not lost inside himself. "I miss Izzy," you say. Din makes a sound that might be a laugh. "I think...I need some time alone," you say, "I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want to let you hurt me either." "You think I want to hurt you?" "I think we're hurting ourselves," you shake your head, "I'm sorry. I don't know how to say it. I need time." Silence. His hands move over the controls. He kicks the autopilot on and turns towards you. "Okay," says Din, "We drop these bounties off and then I'll take you home." Tilts his head the way he always does when he's thinking hard about something. "I think...I think I need some time too," he says. You nod. Whatever this is that binds you and Din together is a house made of sabacc cards, angles and planes balanced just so. A single gust could end the world. You reach for him, draw your hand back as if you might get burned, and he deliberately folds his hand around yours. And you stay like this for a time, peering out into the endless swirling vortex of hyperspace, his hand enfolding yours, the rhythmic brush of his thumb over our knuckles feels more honest than him kissing you, than him rutting into you, than you groaning around him and feeling him spasm. You lean against him and he does the same. The two of you lean into each other in the blue, churning light and you think maybe there's a way out of this, like dropping back into the real after a long jump through hyperspace. Maybe the after is a finite thing, like a river or a mountain range and not a demarcation line. Maybe.

@oonajaeadira @grogusmum @honestly-shite @writeforfandoms @mylovelycomandante @yespolkadotkitty @quica-quica-quica @keeper0fthestars @artemiseamoon

#din djarin x gn!reader #atin'ika #angst

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samayla · 3 years

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Worst. Birthday. Ever.

It’s your birthday, and you get to spend it in a firefight on an alien world.

Nonnie requested a reader-insert fic featuring a gruff-but-sweet Jack and someone’s birthday. Hope this fits the bill, Nonnie!!

AO3

“Worst. Birthday. Ever,” you gasp as you duck behind a fallen pillar.

Another few rounds of P90 fire go off overhead before Colonel O’Neill drops down beside you to reload. “Come on now,” he quips. “Surely you’ve had worse. What about college?” He pops up to fire off another handful of shots, then ducks hastily as the stone next to you explodes in the energy blast that answers his volley. You both slide down a little lower, just in case. “Surely there’s some legendary drunken escapade that tops this mess?”

“If there is,” you pant, trying and failing to reload your own gun, “I was too drunk to remember it.”

“Carter, how’s it coming? I’d love to go home right about now!”

“Three minutes, Colonel,” she shouts back from the far side of the DHD, where she is trying to recalibrate it to send the IDC signal to unlock the iris.

O’Neill peeks around the pillar and then ducks away from another energy blast. “I’ll give you two! L/N, you out?”

You try to reload again, but you just can’t seem to get the stupid magazine to lock into place. “Mag’s jammed.”

“Daniel! Give her a hand! Teal’c, cover him!”

Suddenly, Daniel is at your side, hands over yours, and then he’s shouting. “Jack, she’s bleeding!”

Alarmed, you lean out, trying to get a look at Carter, but then Daniel is everywhere — shoving you back against the pillar again, batting your hands away, lifting the P90 strap over your head, bracing a hand against your suddenly aching shoulder — and you realize it’s you. You’re bleeding. In the midst of a dozen other, smaller cuts, there is a shard of stone piercing your shoulder, right through your jacket. You feel dizzy.

“Shit,” the colonel curses. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“It doesn’t hurt, sir,” you offer, mildly confused about that fact, but grateful for it. It looks like it should hurt. You try to take your gun from Daniel again, to cover your teammates in this firefight, but you can’t quite make your hand obey, and it occurs to you that this is why you couldn’t reload.

This is bad.

“One minute, Carter,” O’Neill shouts. “We have wounded.”

“One minute,” she confirms. “Nearly there!”

“Jack, give me a hand.” Daniel pulls the strap off your P90 and folds your arm up.

O’Neill drops his gun and presses your hand over the shard in your shoulder, and you grunt at the first bolt of pain. “L/N, look at me. You hang onto this,” he says firmly. “As long as it’s plugging the hole, you aren’t leaking. There’ll be no bleeding out on your birthday, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” You gasp as Daniel tightens the strap around your chest to hold your arm in place, but then everything seems to speed up. Daniel shoves a zat into your good hand, and Carter is shouting, and O’Neill is bellowing into his radio, and you’re running — or at least someone is. You’re pretty sure it isn’t you at this point. You’re too focused on hanging onto that shard of stone and breathing through the pain as you’re jostled along at someone’s side, shooting at anything that moves, determined not to be a liability. Then you are on the ramp, and your shoulder is absolutely killing you, and there are guns everywhere, and someone is replacing Teal’c at your side - though when he’d gotten there in the first place, you have no idea. Dr. Frasier is prying the zat out of your death grip, and everything is just a little bit slippery, just a little bit surreal as you’re loaded onto a gurney, and the rest of your team is hustled off in another direction entirely.

“How does that feel, Y/N?” Janet asks, adjusting your sling slightly to better support your shoulder. She’s got you all put back together and bandaged up, but you still feel absolutely wrung-out.

“Better, Janet. Thanks.” You offer up a watery half-smile, the best you can manage.

“None of that now,” she scolds softly. “I see from your chart it’s your birthday.”

You chuckle bitterly. “I think I’d rather skip this year and pretend it never happened.”

“Now that is not what I want to hear right now,” Colonel O’Neill declares as he strides into the infirmary with Teal’c and Daniel in tow. “A death-defying firefight, a harrowing escape, all the good drugs in the aftermath… what’s not to like?”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “What he means to say is, how’s the arm, Y/N?”

You barely stop yourself from shrugging. “Good enough for government work,” you quip, hoping that will be good enough.

O’Neill barks out a laugh. “You know, as a tax-paying American citizen, that’s not a real comfort, but I do appreciate the spunk, L/N.”

“I do what I can, sir.” In truth, you feel ready to fly apart at the seams. Tired, embarrassed, frustrated, disappointed… You’re sure you’ll feel glad to be alive later, but for now, you just wish it was any other day, as if the rest of it would be somehow easier to handle if it wasn’t happening on this particular day.

“As do we all,” Teal’c intones gently, seemingly sensing your fragile mood. “I, too, am glad to see you are well.”

“Yes, well, since you’ve got a doctor’s note, the rest of us have a debriefing in ten, and then!” O’Neill grins. “Then, the birthday party to end all birthday parties!”

You aren’t sure if the grandiose declaration makes you want to laugh or cry. “Sounds ominous,” you comment carefully, struggling to get your raw emotions under control. You aren’t in the mood for partying, but you don’t want to ruin the gesture either.

“Nah,” O’Neill says, sitting beside you on the bed and giving your good hand a squeeze. “No booze, or the doc’ll have my head, and no cake because Teal’c’s a terrible baker, but we did liberate several gallons of green jello from the commissary. We have permission from the general to use the VIP suite — they have the comfiest couch, don’t ya know — and Carter’s currently negotiating with Siler for his copy of Mary Poppins and a case of rootbeer. 1919. Very good year.”

“Mary Poppins,” Daniel says skeptically. “That’s your big surprise?”

At your side, the colonel nods solemnly. “Mary Poppins.”

Teal’c cocks his head. “What is a merry poppin?”

You can’t help a giggle at the absurdity of the question, of the whole situation. “Mary Poppins.”

“She’s a who, not a what,” the colonel explains, “and I think she’s just the sort of who we need tonight.” He turns back to you and hands you a tissue without comment. “Now, Y/N, you get some rest and just enjoy all those good meds for a bit.” He gives you a one-armed hug and kisses your hair as he stands. “I’ll come bust you out of here once we’re done with the general, and then we’ll see what a spoonful of sugar can do about improving this whole birthday situation. Deal?”

You smile helplessly, but your face feels wet, and you realize you’re crying too. You wipe your eyes with the tissue, suddenly overwhelmed by gratitude. “Deal.”

He nods with a proud smile and begins herding the others out of the infirmary.

“Jack?” you call as he reaches the door. He glances over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

He just smiles again. “Happy birthday.”

#stargate sg1 #jack o'neill #stargate fic #fanfic #mywriting #sg1 fic #reader insert #I'm pretty sure you were hoping for something more romantic #but this is what happened instead #sorry nonnie #hope you enjoy it anyway <3

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taraditosatabikungsantahimik · 3 years

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synesthesia;

Naalala ko pa ‘yung unang beses kaming nagkakilala, pero hindi ko na maalala ‘yung pinakahuli. Naalala ko pa ‘yung amoy ng buhok niya, pero hindi ang kulay nito. ‘Yung tunog ng boses niya kapag tumatawa nakatatak pa sa isip ko, pero hindi ang matatamis niyang ngiti. Ito ako, sumasakit na ang mga balakang, at masikip na ang pagka-“tuck in” ng longsleeves sa mahilmulmol kong chinos, limang taon na ang nakalipas, alam na alam ko pa rin ang pakiramdam kapag nandyan siya.

“Chinese ka ba?” Tanong niya habang puno ng bagong init na kanin ang bibig. “Singkit ka kasi. Tsaka medyo maputi. Amin ‘yung West Philippine Sea ha. Meron kayong kaso ng environmental degradation.” “Ahh ‘yung reclamation.” Tumunog ‘yung microwave kinapa ko ‘yung bagong init kong spam rice. “Ayaw mo sa Chinese?”, habang hinihila ko ‘yung monobloc sabay upo. “Ayoko sa mga mananakop, imperyalista, Marcos Apologist, at sa mamamatay tao.” “Ahh paano naman ako nakasisigurong hindi ka Chinese?” “Hello morena kaya ako, kulay ng Pilipino.” “Dami mong prinsipyo racist ka naman.” “Grabe 3pm lunch. Hard working ha.” “Madaming work order, may nag-emergency leave kasi sa team ako muna nag-cover. Ikaw din naman late lunch.” “Ang daming walk-ins. Inubos ko interviews. May ramp kasi bagong account na non-voice, kaka-post lang kahapon ng Marketing Team sa Call Center Philippines Facebook page. 150 foot count, kamusta ka naman di ba.” Pinasok ko ‘yung microwavable container sa bench paperbag ko sabay tayo palabas. Inunahan niya ko at tumunog ang pinto. Napa-iling ako sa inis sabay buntong hininga ng malalim, “Kaya ko sarili ko, okay.” Ramdam ko ‘yung titig niya habang naglalakad ako palabas.

“Wala kang Facebook no?”, kunware di ko narinig, nakapasok pa rin ‘yung earphones sa mga tenga ko sabay lagok ng mainit na kape. “Heto ako, sumpang hindi na uulit pa. Heto ako handang handang iwan ka.. O di ba naririnig mo ‘ko. Kunware ka pa diyan. Oo sobrang lakas ng volume ng phone mo. Rinig na rinig kita sa smoking area kahit naka-earphones ka. Favorite mo ‘yun no? Anino ng UDD. Rinig na rinig. Tapos ‘yung sapatos mong boost suot mo lagi pag Friday no.” Inubos ko na ang kape ko at bumuntong hininga na naman ng malalim, patayo na ko palabas ng pinto. Pucha sino ba to ang kulit kulit panira ng buhay. “Sorry kahapon. Kala ko kasi..” “Okay lang wag mo na isipin.” “Bawi ako sa’yo sa year end party mamaya. Gusto mo tambay tayo. Wag ka na masungit. Kahit wag ka na sumagot, makikinig ka lang sa kadaldalan ko. See you!”

“Non-compliance pag hindi kayo pumunta. Sumunod din sa attire. This is a good break from our very stressful work.” Sumabay lang ako sa mga ka-opisina kong may kotse papunta sa isang malaking bar sa kung saan. Great Gatsby, lahat yata ng parties ngayong taon Great Gatsby ang theme. Napilitan tuloy akong suotin yung itim kong kurbatang binili ko lang para sa oath taking ko dalawang taon na nakalilipas, makapal na itim na amerikanang lumuwag na ng kalahating dipa, itim na pantalon, at ang nag-iisa kong leather shoes na binili ko para sa pinaka-una kong job interview, at katulad ng lahat nakataas din ang buhok. Lahat mukhang bago, pero bagong labas lang talaga kasi matagal nang nakatago. Na-inip na ko sa mga ingay at sayawan, kaya lumabas na lang ako sa pub dala ‘yung pangatlong bote ko ng beer at nakinig ng Anino habang nakaupo sa may parking lot at nakatitig sa ilaw ng mga gusali. Ito yata paborito kong libangan parang quiet time kumbaga.

“DIto ka lang pala. Kanina pa kita hinahanap eh. Ano kunware na naman hindi mo ko naririnig. KAILANGAN PA BA, KAILANGAN KITA!!” Nilingon ko lang siya. “Yan ngumingiti ka naman pala. Ganyan. Kita mukha mo mas bagay sa’yo.” Alas onse na, natapos na lang ang year end party, puro siya lang ang nagsasalita, nagkekwento. Bago lang pala siya sa office namin, hindi ko napansin kasi sabi niya may sarili raw akong mundo at sino raw ba ang papansin sa bago di ba. Nakapagtapos sa isang state university, fresh grad, maprinsipyo at sabik baguhin ang mundo, pero babaguhin niya raw muna ang sarili. Madalas daw siya nasa Mendiola nung college at isang editorial writer simula first year college hanggang graduation. Galit sa sarili kasi alipin na raw siya ng kunsumerismo. “Mapapagod ka rin.” Pero nagbabanda raw siya, ang pag-awit ang kanyang passion. “Di ka mapapakain niyan.” Bunso sa magkakapatid at alipin ng pera kasi matanda na ang mga magulang. May ka-relasyon. “Jowa ko na ‘yun first year college pa lang kami. Siya lang ang matinong lalaking nagttiyaga sa’kin. May mga plano na kami. Gusto niya doon kami sa kanila tumanda at magpamilya. Gusto niya.. Gusto niya..” “Ahh gusto niya..” Di siya sumagot.

Lumipat kami sa isang bar sa tago pero maingay na parte ng lungsod na ‘yun. Nakaka-anim na beer na yata ako at manhid na ang kanang pisngi, nahihilo ng konti, pero malinaw pa rin sa’kin lahat ng kwento niya. “Masaya ka ka-kwentuhan ‘no?” Ni hindi pa ko umimik simula nung nag-kwento siya. “Love at first sight. Naniniwala ka?” “Typical. Wow.” “Hindi. Sobrang superficial na kasi ng mga tao ngayon. Madalas na mas big deal na ‘yung physical aspects ng isang tao.” “Factor naman talaga ‘yun di ba para sa inyo?” Hindi siya sumagot. “Congenital. Kaya hindi ko talaga alam kung paano ‘yang love at first sight.” “Pero…” “Hindi. Di ko alam kung paano at ano dapat ‘yung maramdaman.” Hinawakan niya ang kaliwang kamay ko at hinila ako palabas nang pub. Umupo kami sa kalye. Malamig ang hangin, pero mainit ang pakiramdam sa higpit ng hawak ng kanyang kaliwang kamay sa kanang kamay ko. “Pikit ka.” “Wow ha 23 years na ‘kong nakapikit no.” “Pikit na!”

Pagod na ang mga labi kahit wala pang sinasabi. Puro minsan na lang, nakapako sa aking isipan.

Bumilis at lumakas ng tibok ng puso ko, pero hindi ako nabingi sa lakas nito. Sa halip, wala akong ibang naririnig kundi ang napaka-ganda niyang tinig. Kakaiba.

Tahan na, umiiyak ka na naman. Hindi ba't ikaw din ang papahid ng luhang yan

Parang dahan dahang bumagal ang mundo, hindi ko na naririnig ang mga tricycle na dumadaan. Wala akong nararamdaman kundi ang lamig ng hangin at init ng kanyang kamay.

Heto ako, mamumuhay ng mag-isa. Heto ako, ba't nariyan ka pa

Amoy ng usok ng sigarilyo at ng kanyang pabangong amoy matamis na kendi. Maganda ang pagkaka-kanta, pero may sakit. Mapait ang redhorse. Kasing pait ng kanyang pagka-kanta.

Kailangan pa ba, kailangan kita. Nasaan ka na, nariyan ka pa ba

Rinig ko sa boses niya ang unti unting pagtulo ng kanyang luha. Naramdaman ko ang mainit niyang hininga, amoy Redhorse. Naramdaman kong bumigat ang kanang balikat ko. Mabango rin pala ang kanyang buhok, amoy rosas at usok, basa rin ng mainit na luha ang kanang balikat. Inabot ko ang aking malinis na panyo, mainit pa galling sa bulsa ng slacks ko.

Huwag mo, huwag mo akong iiwan. Patawad kung ikaw ay nasaktan

Paulit-ulit akong nakikinig sa kantang ‘yon araw-araw, pero parang unang beses ko siyang pinakinggan nung gabing ‘yun. Masarap, pero mapait. Hindi naman pala overdeveloped ang senses ko. Mali silang lahat. Dahil noong gabing iyon, ang ilang minutong ‘yun parang tumagal nang isang buong habang buhay. Natapos ang gabing ‘yun na tahimik siya, naubos na yata ang mga kwento niya. Hinalikan niya ko sa kanang pisngi. Alam kong ‘yun na ang huling beses ko siyang makakasama.

Limang taon na ang nakalipas mula noong gabing iyon. Gabi gabi pa rin akong nasa pub na ‘to. Wala naman akong hinihintay, nagbabakaskali, siguro. Pero ngayong gabi ko lang ulit naramdaman ‘yung bilis ng tibok ng puso ko, pait ng Redhorse, at mainit na pakiramdam sa kanang kamay ko.

“May nagpapa-bigay po.” “Huh? Di naman ako nag-oorder ng additional.” “Panyo niyo raw po.”

“Hello. First time naming tutugtog dito. Sana magustuhan niyo. Sabay din kayo kung alam niyo. Anino by UDD”

#shortstory #filipino #tagalog #my short story

0 notes

allenmendezsr · 4 years

Text

Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0: Skinny Guy/hardgainer Niche

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/muscle-gaining-secrets-2-0-skinny-guy-hardgainer-niche/

Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0: Skinny Guy/hardgainer Niche

Buy Now

If you’re like me and have always struggled to build muscle and gain weight I’ve got some bad news for you. If you keep doing what you’re doing right now you’ll never gain any significant size or strength.

That’s because you’re a hardgainer. A hardgainer CAN’T do what everyone else does and expect the same results. We don’t have the genetics for it.

It’s always going to be very difficult for us to build muscle if we keep making these same mistakes over and over again.

So, why are you still skinny and not building muscle as fast as you’d want to?

Here are five reasons…

Reason #1: You’re Ignoring the Law of Progressive Overload

To build muscle you have to get stronger.

Using the same weights for the same number of reps does absolutely nothing to force your body to adapt. You’re just spinning your wheels and wasting your time.

The guys who gain the most muscle are the guys who gain the most strength.

If your program doesn’t allow for consistent strength gains on a regular basis you’ll never build any serious muscle.

Reason #2: You’re Not Training With Enough Frequency

The more frequently you can train a muscle (while still recovering and getting stronger) the faster you’ll grow. Most bodybuilding programs have you training each muscle once a week.

But what if you planned your workouts in a way that you could train each muscle group 104 times per year instead of 52? Two times the growth stimulus would certainly lead to a hell of a lot faster results.

Reason #3: You’re Doing Too Many Sets & Reps

Forget about copying the workouts of your favorite pro bodybuilder.

The total weekly training volume they use will kill the steroid free, skinny guy who wants to build muscle.

There’s absolutely no reason to be doing numerous sets and exercises for every bodypart.

The goal is to get in, hit hard, do slightly more than you did last time (either more weight or more reps), stimulate the muscle growth process and get out.

Like Lee Haney said, “Stimulate, don’t annihilate.”

Reason #4: You Don’t Have a Proven Plan to Follow

Failing to plan is planning to fail. You can’t just go into the gym and wing it. You need a proven system to follow that will allow you to make regular gains that you can record from workout to workout in your training journal.

Stick with a plan for at least 12 weeks and for the love of all things good, PLEASE don’t be a program hopper like everyone else who never makes an ounce of progress.

Reason #5: You Never Cycle Your Training

Overzealous skinny guys love to pound themselves into the ground by always training with full-on, balls-to-the-wall intensity.

This is a surefire path to overtraining, burnout and injuries. You’re only human and the body can only withstand so much.

Yes, you have to train hard but you have to do so in a smart manner. This means you have to slowly ramp up the intensity and then pull back the reigns, give your body a break, then push forward again, trying to exceed your previous bests.

You can’t just have the pedal to the medal week in and week out or you’ll burn out in no time.

What Works For Everyone Else DOES NOT Work For Skinny Guys Like Us

Unfortunately, the way you’re training right now is robbing your body of 90% of the muscle gains you should be making.

But it’s NOT your fault.

You’ve been lied to. By supplement companies, bodybuilding mags and clueless personal trainers.

They want to keep you skinny so you can keep buying all their useless crap.

I’ve been in your shoes so I know how it feels. That’s why I want to help you end the frustration and finally start gaining some real muscle.

After many years of painstaking research and experimentation, I’ve developed a system that packs muscle on even the skinniest, most genetically cursed hardgainers around.

Over the last 23 years I’ve used this system to achieve lightning fast results with more than 52,000 thousand skinny hardgainers just like you…

Who Am I and Why Should You Listen to Me?

My name is Jason Ferruggia. You may have read my monthly “Hardgainer” column in Men’s Fitness or seen me featured in any number of magazines such as Muscle & Fitness, Men’s Health or Maximum Fitness, heard me on radio stations such as CBS and ESPN or even seen me on TV stations like ABC and Fox.

My monthly Hardgainer Column in Men’s Fitness

More importantly, I’m a former skinny hardgainer.

Growing up, I was the weakest, skinniest punk around and gaining weight was impossible for me.

When I first started training, I took advice from bodybuilders and busted my ass in the gym, trying every program and supplement under the sun for fours straight.

But I got nowhere.

Eventually I realized I couldn’t find the answers in the muscles mags or from bodybuilders so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I started spending countless hours reading through stacks of studies and over 300 books on the subject of building muscle…

I Finally Stumbled Upon the REAL TRUTH About What Skinny Guys Need to do to Build Muscle & Gain Weight…

And in doing so I overcame the worlds worst muscle building genetics and went from 147 pounds all the way up to a rock solid 204 pounds, drug free!

After 20+ years of intense research and in-the-trenches experiments, I’ve created a fail-proof program that will help hardgainers build muscle as fast as humanly possible…

Without steroids….

Without expensive supplements…

Without spending more than 4 hours a week in the gym.

Introducing Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0: The Ultimate 90 Day Skinny-to-Jacked Transformation Plan

Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0 is the skinny guys bible and is jam packed with tricks, tips and advanced techniques that most people have no clue about.

No overly complicated scientific formulas or insider jargon that requires a degree in advanced physiology. No nonsense, no filler, no fluff; just the hard hitting, scientific truth about exactly what you HAVE to do to build muscle faster than ever before.

If you’re sick and tired of being skinny, fat and weak this is the workout program for you.

Here’s Just a Small Sample of The Secrets You’ll Discover…

How to break through any frustrating muscle building plateau… Even if you been stuck at the same size for years.

“The 7 Anabolic Factors” that must be utilized in order to ensure rapid muscle growth. Unfortunately, most guys only use 3 or 4 of them.

The “Big 4” Exercises that build muscle like crazy.

Why your current workout isn’t thoroughly activating all of your different types of muscle fibers… And how a few simple adjustments will allow you to fully stimulate every untapped fiber, literally forcing your body to grow.

The exact sequence of workouts that produces the fastest gains.

The BEST rep range for skinny hardgainers who want to build massive amounts of muscle. Training out of this range is a waste of time.

Why traditional cardio methods suck and what REALLY works for getting ripped.

Tips and tricks to avoid common injuries.

Why the precise rest periods you take between sets is crucially important to your results. This could be the difference between being jacked and ripped versus being fat and soft.

The forgotten finisher that builds mountainous traps and thick, muscular forearms.

How to make every set of biceps exercises you do 2-3 times more effective for building sleeve ripping arms by utilizing this one simple trick.

How to get stronger EVERY week

How to dramatically increase your gains while cutting down your recovery rate between workouts by making a small adjustment to the speed at which you perform your exercises .

The BEST muscle building exercises for every body part.

Why crunches and sit ups are the absolute worst things you could do if you want a ripped, muscular six pack with no back pain.

A pre-workout warm up routine that will fire up your nervous system for enhanced performance and bulletproof your body against injuries.

An exercise NO ONE ever does that gives you the POWER LOOK.

And much, much more…

In Addition to the Main Manual You Also Get…

Printable Workout Sheets

You get a fully detailed, step-by-step raw beginner program as well as the 90-day main Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0 program. These workouts were designed with you, the skinny “hard-gainer” in mind and will pack on size and strength like nothing you’ve ever tried before.

The exact number of sets, reps, rest periods are all laid out for you in beautiful, printable workout sheets. All the guesswork and confusion has been removed.

All you need to do is follow the program to the letter for 90 days… then sit back and smile while you watch the new muscle start piling on.

30 Days Free Access to Our Private Coaching Community

That’s where you’ll be able to watch instructional videos of every exercise in the program, interact and develop lasting friendships with thousands of other members, have your questions answered, and get coaching from our professional staff.

The most important, and often missing, element in making a lasting transformation is social support. We’ve got you covered in that department. You’ll be able to post your workout logs, before and after pics, and questions for accountability to ensure the fastest rate of progress.

Kyle Gained 21 Pounds of Muscle

“Jay, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. My entire life has moved on to the next level and I feel like I owe it all to you. You’ve provided me with so much determination it can’t be expressed in words. I gained 21 lbs of mass and lost an equal amount of body-fat using your program!” Kyle Matthews

Brian Gained 23 Pounds of Muscle

“When I first started following Muscle Gaining Secrets I weighed 169. Today I’m a lean 192 pounds, can squat 365, deadlift 435 and bench press 300, respectively. By following all of his advice on nutrition, training and recovery to the letter I was able to make size and strength gains that I would’ve never imagined possible.” Brian Eskow

Geoff Gained 14 Pounds of Muscle

“I’m in the best shape of my life, because of your program. My goals: be about 210 but jacked and chiseled, able to deadlift 550, squat 400, and do a body-up or one armed pull up. Currently I deadlift around 490 & squat 405. Before picture is how I have looked for the last 4 years. After picture is due to Muscle Gaining Secrets.” Geoff C. Morehart

Christian Gained 14 Pounds of Muscle

“Stumbling upon MGS was like the answer to everything. I have complete faith in your training philosophies and feel that the words “thank you” ain’t enough. So far I have gained 14 pounds of muscle while simultaneously losing fat!

Thank you again.” Christian Bylsma

Steve Gained 10 Pounds of Muscle

“I really thought i knew everything about building muscle and gaining weight, I read every muscle magazine, and followed every stupid strength training phase that they invented. After giving myself a good slap for what an ass I had been I got into Jason Ferruggia’s Muscle Gaining Secrets. The results speak for themselves.” Steve Pharr

Frequently Asked Questions:

Q: What equipment do I need & can I train at home? Barbells and dumbbells. A basic home gym will cover you as there are no machines or fancy gym equipment required. A chin up bar and a power rack would also be a huge plus. But if you don’t have these things I’ll show you a few substitutions.

Q: How soon can I expect to see results and how much muscle can I build using this program? You should notice results within the first two weeks. After a month you’ll have made some noticeable changes, and by two months you’ll see a big difference. How big you get is ultimately determined by your genetics.

Q: Am I going to have to spend countless hours in the gym every week? Absolutely not. You’ll only have to train four days per week and you’ll be in and out of the gym in just 45 minutes!

Q: What if I don’t want to get big like a bodybuilder? Can I still use your program? Yes, you can. If you just want to achieve muscular male model type physique or the look of a pro fighter this is the best program to get you there. Getting big like a bodybuilder will take many years and a lot of steroids.

You can control how big you eventually get simply by controlling your caloric intake each week. So you determine exactly how much muscle you want to gain… a lean 10 or a massive 30+. It’s all up to you.

Q: Is this program suited for a complete beginner? Yes. We have an introductory program for those who aren’t ready to start on the main program just yet.

Q: I want to start building muscle today. How long do I have to wait for you to ship everything to me? You don’t! Because the entire MGS 2.0 system is fully downloadable, you will get INSTANT ACCESS to it as soon as your payment is accepted. There’s no waiting at all. You can get started in the next five minutes.

Neil Gained 11 Pounds of Muscle

“Following the Muscle Gaining Secrets program I have gained 11 pounds of muscle mass while shredding 15 pounds of fat. Jason’s training principles and workouts work for all ages as I am about to turn 46 and am still gaining muscle and strength. This is the real deal for the natural strength athlete looking to get big. Cheers Jason!” Neil Archibald, UK

Gary Gained 22 Pounds Muscle

“I have used Muscle Gaining Secrets with great success from the beginning to help pack on a solid 22 pounds of muscle. Not only has your program helped me personally, but by using the knowledge I gained have from reading your work to become a successful personal trainer with more than twenty clients, doing 120 plus sessions a month.” Gary Deagle

Eddie Gained 12 Pounds of Muscle

“Since I started training with Muscle Gaining Secrets I’ve gained 12 pounds of muscle and lost over twenty pounds of bodyfat . My conditioning has improved dramatically and the sore joints I used to deal with are a thing of the past. ” Eddie Santana

Check Out Some More MGS 2.0 Success Stories From Facebook…

Download the entire system right now for just $19.95

NOTE: Muscle Gaining Secrets is a downloadable e-book. No physical products will be shipped. After you order, you will get INSTANT ACCESS to download the e-book onto your computer. The e-book format is adobe acrobat PDF, which can be viewed on Mac or PC. At the end of your 30-day free trial in the Renegade Strength Club you will be re-billed $19.95 every month for access to brand new workouts, videos, and the coaching community. Cancel hassle free at any time.

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kewltie · 7 years

Text

“God, my fist wants to meet his face so bad,” Hyoyeon bemoans next to him as they watch Hyukjae rip into the stage manager over the necessity of bringing a fire truck in just in case the stadium catch on fire.

Hyukjae had thrown three separate fits in a matter of hour just as they’re getting ramp up for the charity gala. His colorful disagreement with his stylists over his on stage persona had landed five outfits in the trash and he had threatened to set the sixth one on fire if nobody bring him a holographic jacket with the exact shade of blue that only seems to exist in his head.

“Because it has to match my silver sequin shirt!” Hyukjae had argued earlier, much to his stylist’s chagrin—who had finally managed to find a jacket with the exact specifications that Hyukjae had detailed and that should have been a relief for him and everyone else caught in Hyukjae’s warpath but he only looks like he’s about lose his will to live any second now the longer he’s in Hyukjae’s presence.

Heebum deserves a raise just for this alone, Donghae notes quietly.

“You and everyone else in Seoul Capital Area. Get in line,” Donghae snorts with a roll of his eyes. It’s only a fifteen minutes set before the next performer goes on stage after Hyukjae but Hyukjae wants everything to be perfect and by perfect he meant for it to be his way or nothing at all—thus pandemonium for them all just to try to temper and adapt to Hyukjae’s mercurial mood.

Hyoyeon quickly glances around to check if there’s anyone paying any attention to them, but like anyone would when Hyukjae is getting into a verbal spat with the stage manager and making a show of it, before leaning closer in toward him and confesses ardently, “If it wasn’t a breach of contract I would so go for it.”

“I don’t doubt it for one bit,” he says, amused by the thought that Hyoyeon doesn’t mind potential jail time but breaking a legal binding contract? No, she just couldn’t.

“You know some night I dream of walking up to him and throw my resignation letter in his face,” she says wistfully, and there’s a dreamy look to her face.

“Then why don’t you?” Donghae asks, a curious lilt to his tone.

Hyoyeon had built her entire career on selling a good and presentable image of her client to the public. She’s terrifying good at what she does, spinning salacious scandals into a sob story and turning a bad accident into a fortune, but the moment she took Hyukjae on as her client Hyukjae had made her job next to impossible. Hyoyeon is a publicist whose client is constantly on the front page of gossip mags for one reason or another and can’t stop throwing his career into the fire. Nobody would blame her if she chose to abandon a sinking ship like Hyukjae but she didn’t. She’d stay on and continues to even as Donghae had come along and tried to clean Hyukjae up and failing at first, until Hyukjae said, “fuck it,” and stop sabotaging his career and himself and let others help him. In some forms at least.

Even as he’s trying to pull his life back together again, he’s still pretty much Hyukjae—temperamental, arrogant, and a storm of colorful emotions and fancy whims that wreck through everything. But for all the bridge Hyukjae had burned in his deathward spiral into the bottom of a beer bottle and dirty alley ways, he managed to keep a small circle of loyal associates who would march into hell with him.

“Why do you still support still if he make you want to commit career suicide?” he asks, expanding on his earlier question.

Hyoyeon leans back into her chair, a thoughtful expression settles over her face. “It’s like this,” she says. “When I first started out and Hyukjae was given to me, he already got a notorious reputation but I thought that was nothing I couldn’t handle. Idols are drama queens at their core you know? But boy, was I wrong. Everything I did for him he would reverse it in seconds, the clean ups I had to do and all the dirty works to make sure he looks wholesome he would just throw it all away the moment he step out of a club drunk and with his pants down.” She makes a face at the memory that conjured up and Donghae has to resist a laughter bubbling in his chest because that’s very Hyukjae. “So I went to one of his live show one night when he was still doing them and made up my mind that I was going quit but the second he opened his mouth and belt out the first verse on that stage my fate was seal. I wanted to work only for him then and there because for all his tantrums and flight of fancy, that one single light at the end of the tunnel when he’s standing on that stage like a king and we’re all at his mercy and he kill us with one song after another because when he’s good, he make me want to believe. Believe in all the promise and potential he could be.” She sighs, shooting him a look. “So can you blame me?”

Donghae pauses and then, “No,” he answers finally, thinking of that night in Milan where Hyukjae was set to open for a small festival where most don’t even know his name let alone the scandals that follow him around.

They were running two hours late because Donghae couldn’t find Hyukjae at first because he decided to play tourist on a whim. Hyukjae didn’t even have time for a sound check before Donghae threw him on stage and told him specifically not to fuck up or there’ll be hell and Hyukjae had winked at him and promised he’ll definitely give them a show.

And what a show it was.

A third of the way into his first song in front of a randy drunken crowd, the power were abruptly cut off due to some accidental spark and Donghae had almost jumped on stage to drag Hyukjae back.

Hyukjae had shook his head, signaling he wasn’t stepping off this stage even for a second. He’d turned toward the crowd and even with the mic failing him, his voice was clear and loud, rising above the noisy and undecipherable crowd. “I guess you’re all going to be bless tonight to have this lucky unheard record playing to you,” he says with an almost salacious grin on his face, as cocky as they come.

Donghae nearly protests at Hyukjae’s sudden announcement, he wasn’t supposed to play any new songs until his album release announce was made but with nothing but Hyukjae’s voice to carry the song toward the endless crowd and a guitar that he stole from one of band members who were his back up, he sang anyway.

Unrehearsed and unexpected, and it shouldn’t have work because life isn’t a feel good movie but with a guitar in hand he sang like a man on the gallows with a prayer on his tongue for one last reprieve, even knowing that redemption had slipped through his fingers.

It was raw, unfiltered, and unprecedented—this was not how announcement of a much anticipated comeback album were supposed to be made but the deafening silent of the crowd when Hyukjae sang his song as they all became captive to his voice and the roaring scream of the crowd that followed afterward when he was done said it all.

From the start Donghae had watched Hyukjae’s unprecedented rise to stardom from his TV screen and cover page news and his inevitable downfall as heartbreaking as any Greek tragedy. But Donghae had seen that story time again and again so it shouldn’t have make any difference to him yet the day Heechul had come to him and threw Hyukjae’s profile into his lap Donghae knew there was no going back, he couldn’t turn away from Hyukjae because there was something to be savage from this beautiful disaster he see.

That night Hyukjae was magnetic, dazzling, like a storm that sweeps everything up in its path and takes no prisoner. The crowd loved him, he was their god and savior and they raise him up as their own.

In that moment Donghae thought he understood there may be something to storms and those that chase after them.

“No,” Donghae says again, “not at all.” And Hyoyeon, too, smiles in understanding.

“What did I just say?! I want lasers shooting at every angle, enough to fucking blind me if you have to,” Hyukjae yells in the background, voice rising at every decibel and drawing all their attention again. “And I don’t need the goddamn fire marshals here because nothing is going to be on fire!”

Or maybe they are all just a little mad.

“Lee Hyukjae,” Donghae says, turning around, entirely exasperated by him and the night isn’t even done yet. “Do you remember what I told you about safety hazard and not being sue by the city again?”

#fic: monstar #eunhae #omfgggggggg it's done T^T #okok off to work #fic snippet

4 notes · View notes

atakportal · 6 years

Text

Muscle Gaining Secrets |

New Post has been published on https://www.atak.co/2018/07/04/muscle-gaining-secrets/

Muscle Gaining Secrets |

Product Name: Muscle Gaining Secrets |

Click here to get Muscle Gaining Secrets | at discounted price while it’s still available…

All orders are protected by SSL encryption – the highest industry standard for online security from trusted vendors. Muscle Gaining Secrets | is backed with a 60 Day No Questions Asked Money Back Guarantee. If within the first 60 days of receipt you are not satisfied with Wake Up Lean™, you can request a refund by sending an email to the address given inside the product and we will immediately refund your entire purchase price, with no questions asked.

Description:

That’s because you’re a hardgainer. A hardgainer CAN’T do what everyone else does and expect the same results. We don’t have the genetics for it.

It’s always going to be very difficult for us to build muscle if we keep making these same mistakes over and over again.

So, why are you still skinny and not building muscle as fast as you’d want to?

Using the same weights for the same number of reps does absolutely nothing to force your body to adapt. You’re just spinning your wheels and wasting your time.

The guys who gain the most muscle are the guys who gain the most strength.

If your program doesn’t allow for consistent strength gains on a regular basis you’ll never build any serious muscle.

Reason #3: You’re Doing Too Many Sets & RepsForget about copying the workouts of your favorite pro bodybuilder.

The total weekly training volume they use will kill the steroid free, skinny guy who wants to build muscle.

There’s absolutely no reason to be doing numerous sets and exercises for every bodypart.

The goal is to get in, hit hard, do slightly more than you did last time (either more weight or more reps), stimulate the muscle growth process and get out.

Like Lee Haney said, “Stimulate, don’t annihilate.”

Stick with a plan for at least 12 weeks and for the love of all things good, PLEASE don’t be a program hopper like everyone else who never makes an ounce of progress.

Reason #5: You Never Cycle Your Training Overzealous skinny guys love to pound themselves into the ground by always training with full-on, balls-to-the-wall intensity.

This is a surefire path to overtraining, burnout and injuries. You’re only human and the body can only withstand so much.

You can’t just have the pedal to the medal week in and week out or you’ll burn out in no time.

Unfortunately, the way you’re training right now is robbing your body of 90% of the muscle gains you should be making.

But it’s NOT your fault.

You’ve been lied to. By supplement companies, bodybuilding mags and clueless personal trainers.

They want to keep you skinny so you can keep buying all their useless crap.

I’ve been in your shoes so I know how it feels. That’s why I want to help you end the frustration and finally start gaining some real muscle.

After many years of painstaking research and experimentation, I’ve developed a system that packs muscle on even the skinniest, most genetically cursed hardgainers around.

Over the last 23 years I’ve used this system to achieve lightning fast results with more than 52,000 thousand skinny hardgainers just like you…

My monthly Hardgainer Column in Men’s Fitness

More importantly, I’m a former skinny hardgainer.

Growing up, I was the weakest, skinniest punk around and gaining weight was impossible for me.

When I first started training, I took advice from bodybuilders and busted my ass in the gym, trying every program and supplement under the sun for fours straight.

And in doing so I overcame the worlds worst muscle building genetics and went from 147 pounds all the way up to a rock solid 204 pounds, drug free!

After 20+ years of intense research and in-the-trenches experiments, I’ve created a fail-proof program that will help hardgainers build muscle as fast as humanly possible…

Without expensive supplements…

Without spending more than 4 hours a week in the gym.

Introducing Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0: The Ultimate 90 Day Skinny-to-Jacked Transformation Plan

Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0 is the skinny guys bible and is jam packed with tricks, tips and advanced techniques that most people have no clue about.

If you’re sick and tired of being skinny, fat and weak this is the workout program for you.

The exact number of sets, reps, rest periods are all laid out for you in beautiful, printable workout sheets. All the guesswork and confusion has been removed.

All you need to do is follow the program to the letter for 90 days… then sit back and smile while you watch the new muscle start piling on.

Thank you again.” Christian Bylsma

Q: Am I going to have to spend countless hours in the gym every week? Absolutely not. You’ll only have to train four days per week and you’ll be in and out of the gym in just 45 minutes!

Q: Is this program suited for a complete beginner? Yes. We have an introductory program for those who aren’t ready to start on the main program just yet.

[ad_2]

Click here to get Muscle Gaining Secrets | at discounted price while it’s still available…

#Gaining #Muscle #Secrets

0 notes

itsworn · 7 years

Text

2017 Detroit Autorama: 65 Years of Show Car History

February in Detroit. Outside, it’s gloomy and cold. Inside, it’s hot and exciting—especially if it’s inside at Cobo Center, home to the Detroit Autorama. The Autorama has packed Cobo Center since 1961, but the event began in 1953. This year, STREET RODDER joined Championship Auto Shows, the Michigan Hot Rod Association, 150,000 spectators, and nearly 900 participants in celebrating the milestone 65th Meguiar’s Detroit Autorama.

STREET RODDER showed up two days before the show opened, and there was already action on the Cobo floor, as vendors, builders, and the show crew prepared for opening day. The Detroit Autorama launched (literally) a few minutes before the doors opened on Friday, as the General Lee 1969 Charger from TV’s The Dukes of Hazzard sped past spectators on the street outside Cobo, hitting the ramps for a 25-foot high, 150-foot long jump with an imperfect landing that you can watch at hotrod.com.

That excitement was just a warm-up for everything inside: hot rods, customs, bikes, and trucks of all description. To celebrate the heritage of the Autorama, the promoters collected cars from the history of the event. Those included Al Bergler’s “More Aggravation” Hemi-powered Bantam Coupe (the first Ridler Award winner), Wes and Bob Rydell’s 2002 Ridler-winning 1935 Chevy sedan built by Chip Foose, Dave Jenkins 1957 Chevy custom built by the Alexander Brothers (Mike and Larry) and Paul Hatton, and the 1935 Ford coupe originally known as “The Little Beaver” that won the ISCA Championship twice—a rare and difficult feat.

Primary among the numerous award categories was the Pirelli Great 8 competition, which determines the finalists for the Don Ridler Memorial Award. Other major prizes were the Lokar Driven Award, Best Ford in a Ford sponsored by Ford Performance, the STREET RODDER Top 100 presented by Painless Performance, and our Editor’s Choice Award at Autorama Extreme held in the basement level of Cobo.

The action at the Autorama went full throttle for three days, culminating in the presentation of the 2017 Ridler Award to Buddy Jordan’s 1933 Ford roadster, handbuilt by Steve Frisbie and his team at Steve’s Auto Restorations.

The Pirelli Great 8

It’s been a while, but the American hot rod has made a resurgence in the world of indoor car shows. Need proof? Look no further than the cars selected as the Pirelli Great 8.

The PG8 is the gateway to the Don Ridler Memorial award, but being chosen for this exclusive group is an honor in its own right. These rides represent the ultimate in craftsmanship, creativity, and styling. In the past decade or so we have seen plenty of early hot rods in contention, and some have won the Ridler. The field in the recent past has been diverse. This year was a boom year for early hot rods, although two of this year’s selection were Corvettes; these American sports cars have influenced, and been influenced by, American rods—whether you’re talking about classic nine-fin valve covers or contemporary LT4 engines. Here are the Pirelli Great 8 in all their glory, including the Ridler winner.

1930 Ford Five-Window Coupe / Ted & Colleen Hubbard / South Bend, NE Ted and Colleen Hubbard’s Model A has all the right stuff to make it an elite show contender, and the attitude to make it a genuine hot rod. Andy Leach and his crew from Cal Auto Creations won the Ridler in 2013 with a 1940 Ford, and this chopped 1930 highboy coupe shares some personality traits. A supercharged Ardun-converted Flathead provides power, along with a portion of the remarkable eye-appeal.

1932 Ford Tudor / George Poteet / Memphis, TN George is another PG8 and Ridler veteran (with many other automotive honors to his name). His 2017 entry was this stunning black Deuce sedan, another highboy. The exterior was treated to countless mods, and the deceptively austere interior is packed with creative details. Ford power comes from a Hilborn-injected Ford Y-block. Congratulations to Alan Johnson and Johnson’s Hot Rod Shop this beauty.

1966 Corvette / Dennis Johnson & Scott Roth / South Burlington, VT The Corvette’s nickname “Split Ray” is a clue to its hard-to-recognize uniqueness: the body that was sliced lengthwise down the center and widened 6-3/8 inches. The plus-sized Vette rides on a Roadster Shop chassis, under the power of a blown LS9 engine. The Z06 interior components are smartphone functional. Fat Pirelli radials wrap the 19- and 20-inch Evod wheels. The Corvette is the creation of The Auto Shoppe in Vermont.

1949 Chevrolet Pickup / Bobby & Hazel Collins / Ft. Collins, TX The road to their PG8 award was particularly long for Bobby and Hazel. The owner-built custom 1949 Chevy truck (riding on a C5 Corvette chassis) was on its way to the 2016 Autorama but was damaged en route. A year later, it returned. The cab has been chopped and sectioned, and cut apart and re-assembled to match the chassis. The interior features leather buckets and panels. A well-detailed Magnuson-blown LS engine lies underhood.

1941 Ford Pickup / Ed Sears / Annapolis, MA Ed Sears took a more nostalgic approach to his classic truck entry. The golden brown 1941 Ford, built by One Off Rod and Custom, was the sole whitewall-tired Great 8 winner, with artillery wheels carrying the tires. Proportions have been altered throughout, including on the cab, which has been stretched 8 inches and chopped less than 2 inches. Three Stromberg carbs top the 8BA Flathead engine.

1954 Custom Corvette / Larry & Robbie Griffey / Powell, TN Corvettes have been receiving custom mods and concept car treatments as long as they’ve been in production. That tradition, especially GM’s Corvette Convertible Coupe Motorama show car from 195, inspired this 1954. Larry Griffey’s Hot Rods and Restorations added a few 1956 Corvette elements, and a few modern components, including the LS1 engine, Jamison chassis and C4 suspension, and modern interior.

1929 Ford Pickup / Dennis Portka / Hamburg, NY Sixties styling was well represented by Dennis Portka’s homebuilt pickup. The raw material was rough when the project started 24 years ago. It’s styled after a ’29 Ford, but virtually every piece of the body was fabricated by the owner. Dennis filled the engine compartment with a Chevy 383 with little room to spare. Other cool details are the Rhino coating floor and the homebuilt chassis with IFS and IRS parts.

The 2017 Ridler Winner 1933 Ford Roadster / Buddy & Nancy Jordan / Portland, OR The Don Ridler Memorial Award was presented to the Jordans’ 1933 Ford, called “The Renaissance Roadster.” The fendered and removable hardtop roadster was designed by Chris Ito and built by Steve Frisbie of Steve’s Auto Restorations. The hand-formed frame features one-off independent suspension parts. The engine is a much-modified Chevy 427 big-block. The centerpiece of the interior is a 1930 Nash instrument cluster. Read more about this extraordinary work of automotive art at hotrod.com.

Painless Performance Products Presents STREET RODDER Top 100

Painless Tech Tip: OE-Style Light Switches OE, original equipment from GM, Ford, and so on, require two power inputs. One power input is for the headlights only and the second is for all the rest of the lights controlled by the switch. They are this way in case you lose one circuit you have the other for nighttime safety.

The Detroit Autorama gave us plenty to choose for our selection of Painless Performance Products/STREET RODDER Top 100 winners. The 10 we picked came from all over the show, from the Pirelli Great 8 hopefuls to Autorama Extreme participants, and one from the Cavalcade of Customs exhibit. More photos and video of our choices can be found at hotrod.com and hotrod.com.

1960 Ford Thunderbird / Dennis Spence / Magnolia, DE The Thunderbird was in bad shape when Ed spotted it 25 years ago. Ed took bodywork and welding classes to learn how to do the work himself and eventually teamed with builder Ed Denkenberger at Superior Autoworks. Now the redesigned body is channeled over an Art Morrison chassis with AccuAir suspension. Ford power is provided by a 351 stroked to 408 inches and topped with two four-barrels. A TREMEC five-speed and Ford 9-inch send power to the rear Heritage wheels from U.S. Mags. PPG Bordeaux Reserve Red Metallic covers the body and tan leather covers the custom interior.

1932 Ford Coupe / Larry Smith / Scottsdale, AZ Some our favorite Autorama Extreme cars have been built by Bill Jagenow of Brothers Custom Automotive, like this unchopped steel 1932 owned by Larry for 15 years. In addition to timeless styling, the coupe is a dependable driver. The 276 Merc Flathead has all the good stuff: S.Co.T. blower, dual 97s, Elco twin plug heads, and Nash Twin 8 distributor with angle drive. A dropped and drilled I-beam axle, chrome radius rods, and chrome shocks and springs have been added to the 1932 frame, rolling on commercial truck wheels. A 1940 dash was added to the interior, which is upholstered in black tuck ’n’ roll.

1929 Dodge Sport Coupe / Ed Tillrock III / Schaumberg, IL Ed Tillrock’s friend found this 1929 Dodge Brothers Senior Six Sport Coupe as just a cowl, doors, and rear quarters, lightened with bullet holes. Ed rebuilt the rest of the body using a 1963 Chevy truck hood as a trunklid, a 1934 Pontiac grille shell incorporating 1940 Ford hood sides, four door hinges, boattail rear quarters, and a golf club door. A Buick Nailhead runs four Holley 94s on a Martin intake. The chassis is built around 1932 Ford ’rails. Firestone Indy tires roll on 1940 Ford steel wheels in back with dirt track tires in front. The interior has a 1952 Stude wheel and espresso-hued leather.

1933 Ford Tudor Sedan / Rick Start / Grand Rapids, MI The idea was to build the Tudor as an early ’60s hot rod combined with numerous Cadillac touches, such as a 1959 Eldorado 390 Tri-Power engine, 1951 dash, Cadillac crest hubcaps, 1961 steering wheel, and a 1931 Flying Lady hood ornament. The body and fenders are original Ford steel, with a mild wedge chop by Gas Axe Garage, where the 1933 was built. The Guide headlights, 1939 Ford taillights, 1935 Ford wire wheels, and black paint and upholstery add a classy personality. Rick bought the 1933 in original condition from the widow of the previous owner; it had been in her basement garage for years.

1952 Chevy Styleline DeLuxe / Don Monshau / Channahon, IL We found Don Monshau’s 1952 Styleline DeLuxe in the Autorama’s Cavalcade of Customs. The Colorado car ended up in Illinois where Don found it. His first mods were the 4-inch chop and then lowering it with airbags. Shaved panels, frenched antennas, and 180 hood louvers are some of the many classic custom touches. Don built it to drive, which accounts for the trusty 350 mill and the easy-to-touch-up GM Grenade Green pearl paint. Upholstery is rolls ’n’ pleats Naugahyde. “Devil’s Daughter” made its maiden voyage through a torrential downpour and continues to be driven everywhere.

1953 Ford Ranch Wagon / Scott & Shannon Smith / Naples, FL This owner-built project started with a frame that was given to Scott by his father, and continued for eight years during nights and weekends at home. The one-piece quarter windows and full custom interior (including the surfboard) are a few cool mods. A Fatman frame, drop spindles, and air suspension lower the car, and an injected Chevy small-block powers it. Foose wheels are paired with low-profile Diamond Back whitewalls. The charcoal and white paint combo is repeated on the interior leather. Scott is a Detroit native transplanted to Florida but he never misses the Autorama.

1950 Plymouth Business Coupe / Duane Sherman / Northville, MI A lifelong Mopar guy, Duane Sherman selected an unusual car and a great shop—Denz Place and Restorations—to build his Plymouth. The car received no body modifications, and retains the stock chassis. The original 235ci flat-six engine features an Edmonds intake, twin Webers, an Isky cam, and Fenton headers. The 18-inch wheels are from a Dodge Charger cop car. The inside is covered in lipstick red vinyl. The previous owners had the Plymouth for a very long time and made the trip from North Carolina to Detroit to see the revived car on display at the Detroit Autorama.

1952 Henry J / Daniel Nelson / Los Angeles, CA “Henry Jaded” was built for show and strip by Dave Shuten. Another former Michigan gearhead, Dave now works for Galpin Auto Sports in California, and brought several Galpin vehicles to the Autorama. Daniel Nelson’s early Funny Car–themed Henry J was bone stock when he turned it over to Dave with the instructions to build it the way Dave would do it for himself—and to NHRA rulebook specs. An Alston chassis forms the foundation and a Chevy big-block brings the muscle. Dave sprayed the ’60s-style paint with graphics done by Hot Dog. Audio is provided by a pair of Flowmasters.

1940 Ford Coupe / Gary Zaborowski / Riverview, MI Gary Zaborowski, aka Boogie Man, named his car “Impact” because it makes one; plus the former 9-second drag car hit the wall at 167 mph at Milan Dragway. Then it sat for six years until Gary started the five-year rebuild in his home garage. Show car body mods include the filled hood, hood scoops, and peaked fenders. The legendary Bill Hines built the door hinges. The frame is handbuilt 2×3 tubing. A fuel-injected 485hp LS3 packs the engine compartment. American Racing Salt Flat Specials and Mickey Thompson rubber fill the fenders. The candy red over gunmetal gray was shot by Boogie Man.

1932 Ford Coupe / Harold Chapman / Florence, TX After winning the Ridler Award in 2017, Harold Chapman from Customs & Hot Rods of Andice was back with his personal ride. The dark brown Deuce started out in rough shape and ended up with several Autorama awards. The unchopped body rides on a modified Pete & Jakes frame, rolling on custom Halibrand-style wheels. Chassis goodies include an I-beam axle and hairpins, and a quick-change. A 620-horse Dart Machinery 427 small-block runs Hilborn injection. The leather-covered interior includes a custom bench, Classic Instruments gauges, and a one-off steering wheel.

STREET RODDER Magazine’s Best Ford In A Ford This Homebuilt 1963 Falcon Flies With Coyote Wings

YEAR: 1963 MAKE: Ford MODEL: Falcon OWNER: Roger Gaynor STATE: Michigan

Roger was looking for cars online when he found the Falcon. It was just a body, sitting in the chicken coop that had been its home for 15 years. It looked just like you’d expect it to considering the circumstances, but Roger was able to see beyond that to his vision for the finished Falcon.

The rebuild began in 2016, when Roger started cutting out and replacing the stock floor and firewall. He shaved the doors, eliminated the vent windows, tucked the bumpers, and modified the hood with reversed hinges to tilt forward. The handcrafted frame is equipped with RideTech suspension components. Heritage 15-spoke wheels from U.S. Mags measure 17 and 20 inches, and are wrapped with 225/35R17 and 305/40R20 low-profile tires. Stopping is handled by Wilwood disc brakes.

After Roger and his friend Bruce Rathburn prepped the sheetmetal for paint, the Falcon went to Dedic’s Diamond Auto Body for its Vivid Metallic PPG paint. The next stop was Fender Design where Bob and Kathy Fender provided a complete custom interior. The fabricated buckets are separated by a custom steel console. The tobacco-colored leather is a combination of pebble grain and perforated with mesh screens in the seat backs. That look continues on the door panels and the underside of the trucklid. The smoothed dash is filled with digital gauges from Inteltronic.

It was important to Roger to keep his Ford all Ford. He was impressed with Ford Performance’s 5.0L 32-valve DOHC all-aluminum engine and managed to shoehorn one between the front fenders of his Falcon. The hood was cut open to let the world see how an up-to-date engine looks in a classic car.

After an intense year of work—with help from Frank at Power By The Hour, Tim Spencer, Steve Groll, and Mark Newport—Roger finished just in time for the trip to Detroit. A prominent spot in Cobo Hall is a long way from the chicken coop his car had once called home. At the Autorama, Adam Gair from Ford Performance presented Roger and his wife, Helen, with a custom-made plaque, designating their homebuilt Coyote-powered Falcon as the STREET RODDER Best Ford In A Ford award, presented by Ford Performance. Read more at hotrod.com.

Lokar/STREET RODDER Driven Award

Brian Downard from Lokar gave the STREET RODDER Driven Award Presented by Lokar Performance Products to Tracy Chapman and her 1949 Cadillac convertible on the first day of the Autorama. For Tracy Chapman, driving is as fun as winning an award. Her white 1949 Cadillac convertible has won a few awards—and is driven frequently. The day it was finished, it started a 3,600-mile test drive. “We didn’t want a show car, we just wanted a driver.”

In building the Caddy, Tracy and her husband, Harold, at Customs and Hot Rods of Andice, used a Roadster Shop independent frontend, parallel four-link, and RideTech air shocks to upgrade the chassis for highway use. Harold packed the big car with a Don Hardy LSX with a Magnuson 2300 supercharger. Handmade covers provide a unique look under the hood. A 4L80-E trans delivers torque to the Ford 9-inch locker rear.

The sheetmetal was treated to countless mods and finished in PPG custom white paint, contrasted by a dark blue cloth top. The white extends into the wheelwells, where custom Diamond Back whitewalls roll on 18-inch Triple Cross wire wheels from Dayton. Wilwood brakes are used at all wheels.

Custom seats are heated for comfort and wrapped in Relicate leather. Classic Instruments modified the 1948 Cadillac gauges. A resized 1948 wheel from Quality Restorations sits on an ididit column. Vintage Air A/C and an Alpine-controlled audio system are welcome additions on the road.

In the fall of 2015, Tracy’s freshly finished convertible was driven from Andice, Texas, to Loveland, Colorado, onto Bowling Green, Kentucky, and then home to Andice. Last year, it was back on the road, driven from home to Chicago to Fort Worth and back. Those trips have brought total mileage to about 12,500 miles. Tracy enjoys the attention the Cadillac gets on the road. “People see cars like this at shows and in Grandpa’s garage, but not on the road.” Read more at hotrod.com.

Extreme Rod Editor’s Choice Award

The Detroit Autorama’s “Autorama Extreme” exhibit, in the basement of Cobo Center, is dedicated to traditional rodding. Live music, handmade trophies, Gene Winfield’s Chop Shop, the Miss Autorama Pinup Girl contest, and great nostalgic rod create the atmosphere of Autorama Extreme.

Each year, STREET RODDER has the opportunity to hand out an award that’s titled the Editor’s Choice pick for the car of our choice. What was once a rare occurrence has now become a tradition. For the past few years, by coincidence, our choice has been a Ford Model A, whether it’s a coupe or roadster. This year was no different.

David Weinberg of Royal Oak, Michigan, brought out his 1931 Ford Model A highboy coupe. The car was carefully fabricated by Bill Jagenow of Brothers Custom Automotive. The body is customized by a Deuce grille shell with E&J headlights, and is fitted to a 1932 frame. Power comes by way of a 276 Merc Flathead topped with a pair of Stromberg 97s, all linked to a three-speed moving the power back to a Speedway Engineering quick-change. The interior features a very cool-looking set of Classic Instrument gauges to set off the Model A dash.

Front rubber comes by way of Firestone, measuring 5×16. At the rear, the Firestone Deluxe Champions measure out at 7.50×16 and are mounted to chrome steelies with Merc caps. Congratulations to both owner David Weinberg and builder Bill Jagenow for coming up with a great little highboy Model A coupe. For more photos of the Extreme Rod Editor’s Choice Model A, visit hotrod.com.

The post 2017 Detroit Autorama: 65 Years of Show Car History appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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#IFTTT #Hot Rod Network

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fuckyeahthewavepictures-blog · 12 years

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The Wave Pictures

Noisey / Vice Stage – Sunday

The Wave Pictures are an indie rock band consisting of David Tattersall (vocals and guitar), Franic Rozycki (bass guitar) and Jonny Helm (drums). Their homespun byronic ditties have been delighting fans since 1998 (The Blind Summit days.)

Track ‘If You Leave It Alone’ is a wavering, quavering lament. Lightly accompanied by tatty drums and an elegant bass. It’s the vocals from David Tattersall that will entice you. Half ‘Morrissey’ and half ‘Anderson’ – the voice daintily sprites about like a lost foal. This song is whimsically lyrical and, at it’s core, broken-hearted. Sad, long-faced and moody.

‘Sugar Maple Charcoal‘ is more hoppy. It is still as naively cute and as squeaky clean as Sunday school may-polers, and it has that trademark rubbery bass that doesn’t so much thump along – as stumble along. This is stripped-down pop and the clean lines and the clear vision are almost hypnotic.

#beacons festival #rawramp #the wave pictures #raw ramp mag

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rawrampmag · 3 years

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JAIME KYLE @JaimeKyleMusic #Untangled #nashville #tennessee #nashvilletn #countrymusic #musiccity #singersongwriter

The multiple-award-winning, multi-platinum, country-rock performer JAIME KYLE — the co-writer of Faith Hill’s #1 charting “Wild One” — has shared a beautiful new music video for her allusive, heartfelt single titled ‘Untangled’. ‘Untangled’ is a standalone introduction to the Nashville artist’s heartwarming, generous and fearlessly instinctive compositions and is therefore released separately…

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#Blue Sky Riders #DJ Keith Greentree #Gary Burr #going and gone #JAIME KYLE #Jaime Kyle Music #Jaime Kyle Nashvillle #JaimeKyleMusic #neilmach #priestess of power rock #raw ramp #raw ramp mag #rawramp #rock journalist Neil Mach #Untangled

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rawrampmag · 3 years

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SANTANA Vows Blessings + Miracles @BMG @SantanaCarlos @ThisIsRobThomas

Grammy Award-winning Rock and Roll Hall of Fame guitarrista CARLOS SANTANA has announced the first single from his impressive new star-studded album, “Blessings and Miracles” The humdinger single, titled “Move ” is a highly anticipated reunion with the Matchbox Twenty vocalist Rob Thomas (Santana co-wrote and performed the hit “Smooth” with him back in 1999.) The new song also features the…

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#Abraxas #American Authors #Blessings and Miracles #by Santana #Carlos Santana #guitarrista #music news #new 2021 album #new santana album #new santana single #raw ramp music mag #rawramp #Rob Thomas #santana news #Supernatural

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rawrampmag · 3 years

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BAD TOUCH @badtouchrocksuk #SouthernRock #ClassicCover #CantYouSee #MarshallTucker @marshallamps @marshallrecords

Laid down in the newly built studio set up by Marshall, the UK’s leading amp makers, near their Milton Keynes factory, and produced by acclaimed English producer Chris Sheldon (Foo Fighters, Gun, Feeder), British rockers BAD TOUCH have recorded a big-hearted version of the the signature song Can’t You See (1977) made famous by the influential southern rock / blues project, The Marshall Tucker…

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#Allman Brothers #BAD TOUCH #Black Stone Cherry #Chris Sheldon #Marshall studios #marshallamps #marshallrecords #MarshallTucker #neil mach #neilmach #raw ramp #raw ramp music mag #The Marshall Tucker Band #Toy Factory

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rawrampmag · 3 years

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Attention artists, band management + promoters: What does it mean if you don't share a review? #ClickTheShare #ShareTheLove #ShareTheReview #ShareThePost

Attention artists, band management & promoters: What does it mean if you don't share a review? #ClickTheShare #ShareTheLove #ShareTheReview #ShareThePost

Attention all artists, band management and promoters: What does it mean if you don’t share a review? It takes approximately 60 minutes to write a music review. That’s right … our experienced writers need at least an hour to create a quality music review. We insist that our reviews are handcrafted, titled, polished and edited and of course they need to be thoroughly researched too (in other…

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#ClickTheShare #independent music mag #independent publication #quality music review #raw ramp #raw ramp music magazine #rawramp #ShareTheLove #ShareThePost #ShareTheReview #What does it mean if you don&039;t share a review

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rawrampmag · 5 years

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ANA POPOVIC @anapopovic — UK Tour Dates May 2019

Widely regarded as one of the worlds most versatile guitarists, we chose Serbian ANA POPOVIC for our 2015 RAW RAMP list of Five Fabulous Women of the Blues. Her career has been meteoric, and shows no signs of slowing-down…

In 1999, Popović formed the Ana Popović Band in the Netherlands. In 2000, she appeared, alongside Eric Burdon, Taj Mahal, Buddy Miles, Double Trouble, Eric Galesand others, on…

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#Ana Popovic #Belly Button Window #BEN POOLE #Buddy Miles #Double Trouble #Eric Burdon #Eric Gales #Jimi Hendrix tribute #modern blues #neil mach #neilmach #Popović #raw ramp #raw ramp mag #rawramp #Taj Mahal #UK tour dates #Women of the Blues

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rawrampmag · 6 years

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LEWiSBURG @lewisburg_ — #Wasted + Clear The Air #Single #Review #folkmusic #darkcountry

LEWiSBERG — the dark-country band from North London that’s centered around the singer and songwriter Ali Robertson — with Julien Baraness (guitar), Alessandro Taglione (bass) and Adrien Latge (drums) — create melodic folk-songs that tend to be homesick with sensitivity.

LEWiSBERG – expressive, almost devout, vocals…

Their recent double A-Side “Slow Morning/Terminal” had “unhurried acoustic…

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allenmendezsr · 4 years

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Muscle Gaining Secrets 2.0: Skinny Guy/hardgainer Niche

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