It's back, bros. It's that time of year again, the time to start packing on mass like a Walmartian at Ponderosa. Forget your vegan thanksgiving and your gluten-free shit. Bring on the stuffing, bro. Let's get some turkey up in this house. Deep fry that baby if you want. Clean bulking is for natty bros with thirteen inch biceps and a penchant for internet philosophizing. Real men eat a lot. And by a lot, I mean as much as a small elephant.
Now is not the time to worry about your macros or your body fat percentage. It's the offseason, bro. We're going at this shit Lee Priest style, by which I mean we're gonna pack on mass till we're fat as fuck. Dieting is for summer time. That's when the shirts pop off and the babes go crazy. It ain't time for that shit; we're like a bear getting ready to hibernate, but instead of sleeping all winter, we're gonna eat our faces off and lift monstrous weights. Leave your exercise bands and your Fitbits at home with your panties. Real men lift heavy. Real men pack on John Goodman style mass.
Bulksgiving starts as soon as you sit down at that dinner table, and it doesn't end until you've eaten approximately five pounds of turkey, four pounds of stuffing, three pounds of mashed potatoes, two pounds of carrots, and ten pounds of pumpkin pie. Make sure to add enough whipped cream to choke a baby horse--don't skimp on that shit, it helps the pies go down. Give yourself a good hour or so break after feasting, and then start stuffing your literal pie-hole again. Remember, if you want to beat the man, you have to out-eat the man. We're all professional bodybuilders here, if you don't recall. The point in life is to get as swole as possible, and that ain't gonna happen by eating Aunt Petunia's special low-calorie garden salad. Vegetables are for rabbits and people with testosterone deficiencies. Don't let low-T happen to you! Sure, you might get post-bulksgiving diabetes, but that shit goes away after a while. No pain, no gainz.
Speaking of which, there ain't no such thing as lean gainz. Leave that intermittent fasting at the door with the postman; that shit don't belong in my house. If you want to look like a baby grizzly bear, you have to eat like one. Now that don't necessarily mean you have to eat a thousand moths and a gallon of honey with a couple of bees mixed in, but it probably wouldn't hurt. There's a real shortage of sacrifice in this country. Everybody wants to be big, but nobody wanna eat an entire turkey by themselves. Don't eat like a pilgrim, bro. Those guys were the original natty bros--the only things they loved more than Jesus were killing Indians and eating corn husks. They are not to be emulated. There wasn't a Dwayne Johnson or Marky-Mark among them.
So embrace Bulksgiving this year. Live large and prosper. Watch a Rambo movie and then attack that food with gusto. And don't forget the stuffing. Eat as much of you can of that stuff.
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