Hot and Hard

Some hot hot hotties on this cold cold Wednesday night (here anyway in the UK it's unseasonally freeeeezing) to warm the cockles of your heart.
Plus, my ramblings! You lucky people...


Hi, I'm going to be your personal trainer today. That South African dude who normally trains you had to fly back home, family thing. Might take weeks so you're mine now. And I'm Angelita. First of all, why don't you tell me about some of your goals for these sessions?
My goals? Mmmmm. I think my goals just underwent a major change...


Exchanging views with a friend today over the mainstream media interest here in the UK no longer being downright critical of muscular women, the conversation was set off by an article he'd spotted in The Sun online about Rene Campbell, our reigning British champion. In my really really optimistic way I said I hoped that we really were experiencing a sea change in how muscular women are viewed in this country. Quite rightly, he referred me to the comments below the article. A typical response was Women should not look like that - it's disgusting. etc. etc. etc. We've all heard this before. But there were at least as many positive comments as negative ones, although many of the positives have been accused of merely being Rene's friends! Nevertheless, I still feel it's getting better all the time. The ladies above might not attract so many negative comments, and, as I know all too well, if you start finding women with this amount of muscle turn you on, well, pretty soon Rene Campbell will be floating your boat too.


I really do find it hard to understand why some guys don't find muscle on a woman attractive. Maybe somewhere there is another blog where this very minute someone is typing a similar sentence about overweight ladies! Each to his own, absolutely. But I ain't swapping mine for anything.


All the same, female muscle slavery can be a frustrating experience. When I started out on this journey, I was a teenage boy, a boy with dreams of going through life and actually finding my own muscle girl. Or at least getting to know some. Or at least meeting some. Or at least seeing them from time to time out in public. In fact, I've come to realise that unless you are at a gym, the chances, in this country anyway, are really really remote of seeing a woman with even the slightest bit of muscle on her. There are simply not enough of them to go around.


I've reported every female muscle sighting I've had since the blog started, the Spotted series. There are six. One of them wasn't really muscular, just had nice calves (ain't complaining, but I'm trying to paint a picture), and another didn't like her own calf muscles, causing a bit of consternation from yours truly. OK, so four women with muscle in eight months. Not enough. Not nearly enough. And I live in London. And my femuscle radar is honed: if there were a lot of muscle babes out there, I would spot them.


Perhaps I should have just gone to America? To the land of female muscle opportunity.
Swell, just come. There are women like me on every beach, in every bar, at every gym. We're in hotel foyers. Posing in swimsuits in car parks. You can't move without seeing a bunch of us half-naked. Many many women like me, and many of them are even bigger.
Or perhaps I'm just getting a skewed picture of the States from the (femuscle) media?


I have no idea what to write about this photo. When contemplating it I involuntarily produced a sound akin to that of a silverback male gorilla who has not mated for a while and has just spotted a particularly sexy female. No idea what to write.


Maybe the reason there are no sexy muscle ladies to spot here is that they are either in the gym, or at home, admiring themselves with their cameraphones. Maybe. These hot sexy bods are probably American though.
Typical.


I would probably set my house on fire if I knew she worked for the local fire brigade. Once, maybe twice a year.


It's great to have muscles. Yeah!

Enjoy!

You Can’t Trust A Man Called Piers

News that Piers ‘Morgan’ Moron (© Private Eye) thinks Madonna’s arms are too muscular is resolutely refusing to go away. Once a self-publicist, always a self-publicist, and re-locating to the USA (my condolences) hasn’t affected Piers’ ability to generate column inches for himself. Seeing as David Furnish had already put the boot in on Her Madgesty after the Golden Globes, Piers, couldn’t resist kicking a woman when she’s down, and getting himself all over the media just before a new series of his US talk show begins. Yawn.

Wait! I hear you cry. Aren’t you just adding to those column inches? Don’t do it! Walk away!

I hear you, but here in the UK we haven’t forgotten exactly why it is that Mr ‘Morgan’ Moron has gone stateside. The condensed version is that when he was the editor of the UK daily newspaper The Mirror, it was, according to one of the senior journalists who worked for him, ‘very unlikely’ that he did not know that phone hacking was used by representatives of his newspaper, and Piers said as much to the recent enquiry into the phone hacking scandal: Mr Morgan admitted he had listened to a tape recording of a voicemail message left by Sir Paul on his then wife’s mobile phone was how it was reported by The Daily Mail. So, someone played him a tape recording of a message left on Heather Mill’s voicemail, but he didn’t know that people who worked for his newspaper were hacking phones. Yeah, right. And this from the man who resigned because his paper had printed fake pictures of British soldiers abusing Iraqi prisoners, and I think you can see why Piers thought a trip West would be a good move.

You can’t trust what comes out of Piers. In some instances, the opposite of what he says is, in fact, the truth. So let’s assume that Piers wasn’t breaking the habit of a lifetime and that what he said about Madonna and her arms isn’t really what he thinks at all. He’s given us no reason to believe him before, why should we do it now?



And if Piers was lying, how does he really feel about Madonna, and her ‘caveman’ arms? The only reasonable conclusion is he thinks they’re hot. He doesn’t want her on his show because he knows he won’t be able to control himself. Minutes into the interview the urge to jump over his desk, grab Madge’s bicep and start slavering all over it will be too much. And then he’ll be finished in America too.

Since the Piers/Madonna story broke, Female Muscle Slave has been tirelessly hacking Mr ‘Morgan’ Moron’s phone and personal computer, and we can reveal, exclusively, that Piers is one of us. A female muscle addict. Some of the evidence is presented below. All the pictures were recovered from the ‘Morgan’ Moron phone or PC.


Heather Foster left a voicemail on Piers’ phone soon after the TV interview threatening to come over and punch him into next week if he mentioned any other woman’s arms again. Lisa Giesbrecht left a similarly angry message, promising Piers that he had licked cream off her biceps for the last time, while Betty Viana was so angry she had to resort to her native Spanish to express herself fully. The Female Muscle Slave translation team are still working on the English transcription of the message. So far, they have Now listen you hairless boy who licks fuck sticks… We imagine much of the rest of the message will be unprintable.


This picture of Kim Perez was recovered by our hacking team from a folder named ‘You’re So Vein’. Get it? His gift for language is stunning, isn’t it? Also in the folder was a document in which Piers laid out what he’d like to do to poor Kim’s vascular pythons. Needless to say, it wasn’t ‘ban them from television’.


This stunning pic of Aleesha Young was Piers’ most recent screensaver. No, really.


Skadi Frei actually sent this picture of herself to Piers after she heard his comments on a Swiss news channel. These are big arms you silly little man, her e-mail read. Now I dare you to come to my house in the Alps and call me a caveman to my face. Julie Bourassa was also in touch soon after the interview. I could crush your head like a grape, she said on his voicemail. And if you bag muscular women publicly again, I just might. Marja Lehtonen also called to say that Thursday at 2pm is fine. Piers hasn’t been seen since he boarded a flight from New York to Helsinki on Wednesday night.


A hacked e-mail exchange with Sarah Hayes further reveals Piers’ female muscle lovin’ tendencies. Mr ‘Morgan’ Moron begs Sarah for a muscle worship session, and when Sarah explains she doesn’t do sessions, Not for anyone, and especially not for you, there follows much undignified pleading from Piers.


Sarah finally threatens to forward the entire exchange to his wife in order to get him off her case, to which Piers replies, Do it! I’m leaving her for Fabiola Boulanger anyway! Now, a terrible liar and a bit of a pest he may be, but at least he’s got good taste (when it comes to muscle women anyway).


And finally, this image of the magnificent Brigita Brezovac looking particularly magnificent was one of the ones that came up when the hacking team searched his phone for ‘Most Recent Documents’. In fact, if our time calculations are correct, he must have banged one out to Brigita just after his interview finished, rushing to the studio toilet as soon as his mic was off. No, that’s unfair that last bit. That’s just something I made up. He probably waited until he got in the lift to do that. Or the limo. Or both.

Enjoy! And remember, when Piers says he’s repulsed by women with muscular arms, what he means is he loves them.

He probably reads this blog.

The Marsh Effect

Back in October, in my post about Jody Marsh's new bodybuilding career, I wondered if Jodie's physique may or may not inspire one, ten, a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand women to go to the gym. Well, I haven't had to wait very long to find tangible evidence that at least one woman has indeed taken up bodybuilding because of her. At least partly because of her anyway.

Ms Marsh, good-time girl turned Mrs Muscle, this is all your fault. You and Fit Guy, alias Will Sturgeon, my personal trainer, who during one routine session randomly suggested I might like to try bodybuilding.

The quote above from Ruth Walker's bodybuilding diary in The Scotsman online serves not only as proof that The Marsh Effect is real and working, but also reads as a 'You Should Totally Take Up Bodybuilding' sermon for the ladies. And here is the author...



If you can't be arsed to read the whole thing, my favourite bits are below. And as a reward for not clicking away, I've broken up the quotes with some pics of muscular lovelies putting in the kind of effort Ruth describes.

Week one was the worst. It almost broke me – physically and mentally. “I can’t do this,” I cried, my feeble arms wobbling, 40kg of weight on a 10kg bar, commonly known as drop-set bench presses. “Yes you can,” said Sturgeon. “No I can’t,” I cried, pleadingly. “Yes you can.” It turns out he was right. Just.



So, I suppose you want to hear that things got easier in weeks two and three? That I started to notice a difference? But the honest answer is no, it didn’t. It was pure, relentless hard work. I was tired. I was fed up eating smoked salmon and cottage cheese and scrambled eggs and grilled chicken. Those four sessions were taking a huge chunk out of my week and I wanted my life back. And maybe some chocolate.



But I kept going. I’m not even sure when the turning point came. Maybe it was the moment Sturgeon turned to me and said, “Not bad – you realise you’ve just bench-pressed your own body weight?” Or, mid dumbbell chest-press, when he said, “Most men can’t lift those weights.” Or maybe it was the e-mail from a (female) colleague that read, “Your delts are looking RIPPED!”



I lifted weights that had previously made me weep just to look at them, I grunted and grimaced in an unladylike fashion and, I’m embarrassed to say, I did stop to admire my developing delts in the gym mirror (only when I thought no one else was looking). Marsh has created a monster. The thing is, I rather like her.



Four weeks into the challenge, while on holiday, a stranger walked up to me and told me she had arm envy. And that was it, I had the bug. I liked feeling strong and toned and, perhaps surprisingly, powerfully feminine.



The challenge is all but over and, in a fairly elastic six weeks I’ve lost a mind-boggling 32.7 per cent body fat (eat my sweaty gym shorts, Jodie) and gained 5lb of lean muscle. The increase in my resting metabolic rate means I now burn an extra 112 calories a day. I have gone from chest-pressing a feeble 40kg to a much more impressive 60kg. My bicep curl has increased from 20kg to 30kg and my shoulder-press max weight has gone from 50kg to an incredible 80kg. When I do a tricep dip, I do it across two benches with a 20kg weight on my stomach.



I feel strong, healthy and physically confident. I won’t be standing on a stage in my swimwear any time soon, but I’m wearing my calloused, weight-ravaged hands with pride. As for the rest of the stuff 2012 throws at me: bring it on.

So, in summary, through pumping iron, Ruth has greatly increased her physical strength. It has also given her a body she is proud of, a body that attracts admiration and envy from other women, strangers and colleagues. This, in turn has led to greater self-confidence in her ability to tackle anything life throws at her.

Now, I know a few women who would love a bit of that! I might just have to email them the link to Ruth's blog 'by accident'.



Marsh Effect Scoreboard (21.01.12)

Jodie Marsh 1
People Who Think Women in the Gym Have No Business Lifting Weights and Should Stick to Running Machines and Spinning Classes 0


And don't forget UK readers, the first episode of Jodie Marsh: Make Me A Bodybuilder premieres on DMAX this Tuesday at 9pm.

Fingers crossed the airing of the documentary will further serve to inspire British women to muscle up. And I look forward to the next installment of Ruth's blog.

Enjoy!

Real Iron Ladies

Personally, I've nothing against Hollywood making its own version of my country's history, but I can't have Maggie the Terrible held up as a symbol of strong British womanhood anymore. She shifted our national assets off to the highest bidders, made 'Trade Union' a dirty word, drove a stake through the heart of our public services, and once, I distinctly remember, after the Argentinian submarine Belgrano had been (illegally) sunk by the British Navy, turned to a live TV camera and ordered the country to 'rejoice'.

Couldn't stand the woman and she still makes my skin crawl. And I'm English. My advice to anyone who's not from the UK is to never, and I mean never, ask someone from Wales, Scotland or (God help you) Ireland what they think about Maggie. By the time they've finished answering your question there may be several people lying dead around you.

So I consider it nothing less than my patriotic duty to remind my non-British readers that there have been some real iron ladies from this country, and none of them look like a recently-emptied hoover bag with a wig on.

Queen Andrulla I

The first and so far only British woman to be crowned Miss Olympia, Andrulla is now on the banknotes. She doesn't actually hold any real power, her role is ceremonial, and she acts as a unifying symbol of Britishness. There was some controversy after her coronation, when she insisted on having her bicep, rather than her hand, kissed by those lucky enough to be presented to her, but we all soon got used to this new practice. I, for one, am very proud to have such a magnificent woman as my Queen. Long may she reign!

Bernie Price, Duchess of Westminster

The 1992 NABBA Miss Universe is rarely seen in public life these days, but she still holds a special place in the nation's heart. Particularly for men of a certain age (like yours truly) who can remember the Duchess in her prime.

Dame Paula Bircumshaw


Dame Paula, you may recall, was the victim of one of the greatest judging travesties in the history of a sport riddled with them. As Wikipedia reminds us, [at the 1992 Ms. International, won by Anja Schreiner] Bircumshaw was the same height as Schreiner and possessed a similar level of symmetry and definition, but carried significantly more muscle, weighing in at 162 pounds. She was the clear audience favorite, but was relegated to eighth place. Normally, the top ten contestants are called out at the end of the show when the winners are announced, but the judges only called back the top six, hoping to keep Bircumshaw back stage. This resulted in an uproar from the crowd. With the audience chanting her name, Bircumshaw returned to the stage along with the top six competitors. A national outcry ensued, and 'our Paula' was given a hero's welcome when she arrived back in the country, and her bravery in the face of adversity assured her of a special place in the hearts of the British people forever.

Dame Joanne McCartney

Minister of Legs in the late '80s and early '90s, Joanne was made a Dame for her services to skin tight clothing. More recently, she's been the go-to girl for successive political administrations when disagreements have arisen with the Russian government, being sent to Moscow to wrestle it out with the Tsar, Vladimir Putin, who is always keen for a grapple with her (and who can blame him). Joanne always gets her way once she has his head between her thighs. Keep working on those judo skills Vlad!

Joanne Lee

At the height of her power, Joanne was Minister for Justice, which she would personally dispense. There was very litle crime in those days, but the job took its toll on Joanne, and she briefly disappeared from public life before emerging in a newer, softer guise, and working her way back into the Cabinet, this time as Minister for Christmas.

Joanne Thomas, Duchess of Cornwall

They do things differently, the Cornish, so being represented by such a fine specimen of their magical county does them proud. Joanne was responsible for the reintroduction of the Cornish language in schools and signage there, and has spoken openly of her desire to have her birthplace become an independent state, with herself as the monarch. It's a popular move, and one that may well come to pass, but for now she still counts as a Brit, so I'm getting her in while I can.

Louise Rogers, British Ambassador in Washington

When they ask little British girls what they want to be when they grow up, 'Louise Rogers' is a popular answer. And who can blame them? Radiant, strong, and effortlessly cool, Louise is a paragon of modern British womanhood. The perfect choice for our representative in Washington, she was appointed only last year, just after she became a professional diplomat, but already she has several high-profile men on Capitol Hill eating out of the palm of her hand. Literally.

Prime Minister Rene Campbell

The current British champion and Prime Minister, Rene was a virtually unknown local politician a year ago. Her meteoric rise to power has been so unexpected that, inevitably, rumours of wrongdoing started to spread, but only until Rene got her hands on the journalist who started them. And her popularity soared after the last EU summit when she ripped up the Merkhozy plan, lifted up Mr Sarkhozy by the crotch with one arm, and popped Mrs Merkel in the mouth.

Rosanna Harte, Leader of the Opposition

Despite being considered a political lightweight by many, Rosanna was only narrowly defeated at the polls by Rene this year. Critics say her policies are flimsy, and she owes her popularity to her ravishing looks alone, but she has more than held her own in exchanges with Rene Campbell at Prime Minister's Question Time, even defeating the current PM in an armwrestle during a debate on education.

Lady Kizzy Vaines

Us British guys do like a bit of 'posh totty', and Lady Kizzy is our current number one poster girl, adorning the walls of mechanics' workshops up and down the land. When a film starring Kizzy, I Want Muscle, was released, queues the like of which are only normally seen at Wimbledon snaked around cinemas all over the country, even though it's only two minutes' long! DVD sales are expected to break all known records.

Lisa Cross, National Treasure

Lisa is loved and admired by all for her selfless dedication to the promotion of Britain around the world, and particularly for her recent work in the USA. Our current number one 'Iron Lady', 2012 looks like it will be another great year for her, and by association, Britain. Go Lisa!

Obviously, there are many many more UK Iron Ladies who there is not space to mention here. Apologies if I omitted your personal favourite, but I do hope the handful appearing here will serve as a counterpoint to the infamous Mrs T's image, and show the world what really makes me proud to be British!

Enjoy!