It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Cocktails…

I’m an indulgent fellow.

I’m also an extremeis. Nothing’s ever just “good” or “fine” – it’s either FUCKING AWESOME or it’s Simply Bullshit. I measure things in “fucktons” or “shitloads” versus any metric units you may hear other educated adults using.

And I, admittedly, prefer to enjoy four drinks instead of one.

So, you can imagine the struggle when I’m working on getting shredded up or those sweet, sweet gains baby.

I don’t much like feeling as though I can’t do, eat, drink, or say what I want… so naturally I’ve found a few ways to beat around the ol’ booze-bush.


So here we go…My 3 tips for not being a pile of shit this holiday…

1. Go crush out a workout.

And often.

I am not one to complain or get emo about my workouts… I have totally grown to really, REALLY love a tough workout. It just feels too fucking amazing when you’re done- so gulp the “workout Kool-Aid” and go bust one out.

No surprises there.

2. Keep your food CLEAN.

Protein is your friend. I’ve come to learn that you can totally survive without bread, potatoes, and other carbs. I don’t ever feel like eating fast food and I could really care less about sugary stuff……..

Oh wait.

Unless we’re talking about Cinnamon Buns. Because in the isolated case of the Cinnamon Swirly Pastry goodness, all bets are off.

I black out.

I wake up in the bathtub. And nothing else matters.

Cinnamon buns are my kryptonite.

However, your plate should be covered with mostly protein and some god damn veggies, man! Fill up on those first and if you want seconds, because you will want seconds, go back for seconds and this time grab carbs or a treat!

3. Check your spirits.

Are you slugging back margaritas or a nice glass of red? Don’t be a moron… if your taste in mix drinks leans toward daiquiris and liquified fruit snacks with the calories of a steak dinner then you’re in trouble.

I’ve got my go-to cocktails.

If it’s wine, I gotta have a super dry red. I want that shit to bite me right back.

If it’s beer, I do need to have a hoppy-as-shit IPA (usually with a higher calorie count, but also with a handsome alcohol percentage… so these don’t need to be chuggers.)

If it’s the hard stuff, vodka-club soda please. Don’t forget the limes!

Bottoms up, motherfuckers.

So that’s my philosophy of indulgence. To summarize: I do not believe that life was intended to be lived in harsh restriction. I believe that you need balance to truly live well, but you need excitement just as much…

Hence, my happy ass has got a lot of gratitude for this life of abundance and access to shit like wine stores and dumbbells.

So you can log me under “Most likely to be found jamming out with muscle shirts and purple teeth.”

Hope your holiday season is shaping up to be a shitload of fun.

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