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!
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