Shit Brickhouse

While I might think I’m improv­ing my over­rall mus­cu­lar fit­ness, I’m still built like a shit brick­house. I got a new work­out sched­ule yes­ter­day and I’m cer­tain it is going to tear me apart. This is good.

After a work­out I don’t want to lis­ten to Mastodon or Tad Morose, or any oth­er tech­ni­cal met­al any­more so I’m pleased when my iPod shuf­fle plays some mel­low gui­tar tunage, what I like to call wast­ed blues, down-tem­po half-drunk­en stuff, usu­al­ly some­thing from the Fat Pos­sum cat­a­log, or some­thing with a relax­ing Span­ish-influ­ence. Indie Rock is not good after sweat. Nor is it good ante-sweat. I like elec­tron­ic or indus­tri­al stuff to get my blood flow­ing before I attempt to hurt myself.