Guten tag, wilkommen!

I’ve been spending a ton of time working on my Spanish lately over at DuoLingo, and I must say, I really miss German. My Spanish is still appalling, but it’s slowly getting better. I was going to title the poat en Espanol, but it translates to something like muscular lunes de motivación, which lacks all of the usual MMM alliterative charm. Oh well, I’m going to keep working at that and eventually get back to chemistry. I’ve exhausted all of what Khan Academy has on chemistry at the moment, so I’m down to just books and static web pages at this point.

Book-wise, I’m about 2/3^rds of the way through a bit of pop science journalism on DIY biology called BioPunk, after which I’m planning to move on to Nassim Taleb’s newest book Antifragile, which I’m really looking forward to. Why do I do this? I honestly don’t know. I can barely stand to read or watch fiction anymore, and the real world is presently in a state where watching too closely is stressful and naught else. Learning useful things, lifting, and cooking are about all I even remotely enjoy these days as pastimes. Most of my non-fake innernet friends are leftarded anymore, and the one that isn’t is a frequently-obnoxious misanthrope, so I’ve pretty much got my wife and you guys.

Okay, enough introspection. Picture time. How ’bout we start with a nice snatch?


Now, who’s my dirty girl? That’s right, you are.

I could do this, I just don’t want to right now.

I could do this too. I’ll likely warm up at this weight on Friday.

Doing this tomorrow, though this was probably a push press or thruster, and I’m doing strict presses. End result looks pretty similar, though.

This woman fills a dress nicely. I think I’d gladly watch her empty one as well.

Now, a nice little something in aqua.

And something you could easily see in July at any inland lake in the great state of Michigan. God bless our pleasant peninsula.

And with that, I wish a pleasant and safe start to the week for all who read this. Unless you’re a tree-hugging, gun-grabbing hippie, and then I pretty much hope you get terminal anal warts.

Good morning, and welcome to your post-football-season hangover. No sympathy from me, as I spent the day as a teetotalin’ weenie, watching Dark Knight Rises and then many episodes of the He-Man reboot. I’m sure the team you were rooting for lost, the halftime show sucked, and technical difficulties meant you spent way too much time listening to people with IQs in a range that make Joe Biden look smart analyze a children’s pastime while being paid many times your salary.

Note that the word “earned” did not appear in the above paragraph. Moving on.

Today’s pictures — unlike some other weekly themed poats — are all of actual women. At least to my knowledge. I’d never intentionally poat anything else, unlike some other, lesser cob-loggers who shall remain nameless. You can take that shizznat to the bizzank, as my close personal friend Ed Koch used to say. Okay, so I didn’t know him and he probably never said that, but this is the biggest lie you’ll get out of me. Ever.
MMM: all about real women as best we can discern from just the one photo we’ve been able to find.
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And with that, my work here is done.

*Awards self 15 Nobels for Poating Greatness*

Well, if you’re anything like me (unlikely) another week has flown by for you any can’t believe it’s Monday again, the best damn day of the week.

And if you don’t believe me, allow me to try my Jedi Mind Trick.

Mondays are awesome, you are super-excited that the week has begun anew.

I got one more trick. It’s pretty impressive too.

And much like Rosie has Kerry, I have Eva. Mmmmmm, Eva.

Front squat? Push press? Not sure. Good either way.

Looks like a supinated row, nobody snatches or deadlifts with this grip.

This one’s for me.

And this one’s for you.

Now get out there and kick some ass today. Make me proud.

WAIT!

Before you click, there are some things you should know. Most of the links in this poat contain audio, some of the language is NSFW. Turn down your speakers or put on your headphones NOW.

Also, most of the images are gifs, so this poat is mammary intensive, please update your RAM or go directly to the comments.

Hello, litter-mates; and welcome to Big Boob Friday. My name is Pupster, and I’ll be your host. MJ has been granted some time to pursue other interests, for just pennies a day, you can keep this happening.

Things are really busy for me at work, so I’m going to try and keep this poat Leon.

I’ve really got to get me one of those green body suits.

I didn’t write this song.

Your model for today was born a female, which is nice for a change, in Jackson, that state up north, in 1992. She has graced these pages before and hits the beach at 5’10″, 33-25-36. I dig her. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Kate Upton gifs:

Self awareness is teh sexy.

You’re cool, I’m out.

Greetings all. It’s Monday morning again and there ain’t a damn thing anyone can do about it, least of all me. I get to spend my week trying to maintain yet another fresh piece of orphaned code and picking up a new set of orphaned tasks thanks to yet another departing coworker. Everyone leaves and I get more to do for the same amount of money. It’s (not) awesome, I recommend it if you have the opportunity (to remain employed in the midst of the economic destruction wrought by Obama and his fellow travelers).

Anyone need a mathlete? I’m not cheap, but I’m very good and have a higher tolerance for tedium than most. I’ve done damn near everything you can task defense contractor technical staff with and then some. I can coordinate and collaborate and commiserate and powerpoint and blahbadeedblah. Eh, whatever, I’ll probably just stay at it because I’m pretty sure putting up with all of it has left me somewhere in the walking-on-water stage with management, and my office is really close to my gym, so there’s that.

Is this what you came here for? No, of course not, and I don’t blame you if you skipped all that crap and came straight down to this first image. I’m just saying that I ain’t all that motivated, just sorta resignated. Er, resigned. But I’m not quitting, it’s the other kind of resigned. Like, to fate.

This is a gif. It was sent to me, I’ll leave you to guess the sender.


This is scorpion pose, I think. I’m not a yogi. It’s hot, whatever it is.

This is an activity I’m much more familiar with. Getting the plate down, I mean. Not being at the gym in lycra short-shorts. That’s more for home.

I think XBrad sent me this. If someone can show me proof that it’s a tranny, I’m sure it was him.

I’m sure this lovely creature will be derided as unfeminine because she dares to have some heft to her quadriceps. Bless her for it.

This one’s sorta risque`, what with the bed and all.

Mmmmmm, knee socks.

Have I posted this before? Probably. Probably will again, too. Cope!

And lastly, another masculine beast half of you will ignorantly claim is the bearer of a Y chromosome.

Now, get out there and kick some ass. Sometimes, ass-kicking is all you’ve got left, so make the most of it.

After two days off last week due to a power outage, followed by another day of getting nearly nothing done because my primary machine was busticated by all the power cycling, followed by a day in the car and another on the couch recovering from the day in the car, I CANNOT WAIT TO GET BACK TO WORK.

Seriously. I spend most of my free time this extended-ish weekend catching up on TV and practicing my Español. The latter is a good thing, but the former makes me feel like a slug.

But today, today is work and the gym and productivity all around. Huzzah. I hope at least some of that is true for all of you as well.

Also, Obama is a fucktard. Now let’s look at some hot chicks.

Pupster went to the park this weekend and met a nice lady. She kept him in the Friend Zone, though.


This week, this poat is not racist.

Snatch.

Coupla’ ball bangers.

And one more.

Knockout.

I’m sure this ended badly, but like LiLo, it was pretty while it lasted.

Have a happy and kickass Sequestration Monday, everybody!

Good morning. Peas and carrots. That’s what the weekend is all about. Well, mostly peas, but whatevs.

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I really like this song, and there’s a shark playing a saxophone in the video. That alone is worth the price of admission. BTW, the price of admission is free. Contact Car in for a refund.

Updated by Car in

This is how MJ dances:

Greetings boys, girls, and tweeners. Welcome to the 63rd consecutive edition of MMM. I’ve got no real take on current events because I’m barely paying attention anymore. Paying attention wasn’t helping, so my hypervigilance has turned to a sort of apathy. That might change, but I’m sort of enjoying the peace and quiet. I do my language training, cook my meals, work, read, lift, sleep, and spend time with my wife. That’s enough for me right now. I can’t stay pegged at 11 all the time, I’m too tired. Stress, man. Too much is too much.

Now, here’s a classy B&W. I’m sure it was either filthy or cheesy when it had color.


This gal has a nice rack.

Tell me, where did the bad man touch you?

Despite the misleading label, I’d content that these are actually some pretty fine hineys.

While the deadlift is one of my favorite exercises, I don’t know that I recommend doing it with an EZ-curl bar, or a wedgie.

I think she’s getting ready to jerk it.

I know I’ve posted this before, but I love my dirty girl.

Time to knock Monday on its fat ass and take its lunch money. Get to it.

Greetings, fellow survivors of the weekend. Monday is once more upon us, and I know y’all are just bursting with joy at the thought of it.

Brevity this week. Have some photos.

Tools. She has them.


 

Best part of this? You can see the stretch marks on her belly. This body was earned.

Wrong shoes for ballet, no?

I think I posted this before. It’s still good.

Inversion.

Is it just me, or is the ramshackle door giving you the horror movie vibe too?

Stripes, gloves with no fingers.

This is not in the top 50, I know, but they can’t all be.
Shut up and get to work.

Greetings, Monday fans, welcome to your weekly pick-me-up. And by me, I really do mean me, since I’m sure y’all think these are a bunch of dudes.

Haters gonna H8.

Box = Monday. Be the jumper and stomp.

So far, no booty. Let’s fix that.

Nice, but not enough, moar!

That was a little far away and the lighting was suboptimal. One more.

Abs. She has them.

Sepia, she’s in it.

And now some artistic shadows.

Now go bludgeon Monday to death with a shovel, and bury it deep. We’ll check the bricks together on Tuesday.

UPDATE: Images returned to their original state because I hate April Fools’ and pranks in general, because I’m a humorless asshole.

We’ve put this off far long. Perhaps we’ve allowed our hyper-partisanship to cloud our vision.

But now it must be admitted.

Let’s have Michelle speak it for us; asked if her husband was a sex symbol, she resoundingly affirmed responded -meh.

It’s okay, yeah.

“He’s got a little swag, you know. That’s Okay. I mean, I’m proud of him. He’s a stylish, I think, man who is healthy and he’s smart and he’s passionate and he’s inspiring.”.

Well, put aside your h8ty hate and judge for yourself?

He’s all man:

This from abc:

One last one:

Michelle is one lucky gal.

Good morning all, and welcome to Monday morning at the H2. It’s 2013, so it’s still awful and probably will be for a few more years. There are signs of hope here and there, and we may yet weather the storm, but it’s not a sure thing. Monday, though? Pretty much a sure thing. Monday will always be here. Let’s kick off the week right.

Time to dip our asses in the ice-cold horse trough of the workweek.


Then maybe give it a nice uppercut to the junk.

A little stretching.

A little flexing.

Some pressing.

Some cleaning.

A little bit of whatevertheheck this is.

And finally, a little strutting.

Greetings to all, unless you voted for Obama, in which case I’d prefer you self-immolate (right after you pay your taxes, assholes).

It’s Monday again, and that means it’s time to go back to work (congrats again, Vmax). Here’s a little something to get you going.
Failing that, it’ll at least get me going. Close enough.

She looks tired.


Also tired.

Hanging out.

Her tricep definition is excellent. Did you even see it?

I might run if she were involved in some sort of prize-like capacity.

Obligatory snatch.

She’s a swinger.

And a little black and white to close it out.

Greetings and salutations. Today is Monday, April 22, and your taxes were due a week ago, so you should probably get started on those soon (unless you’re a government employee, then you can probably just take all the time you need).

It’s still Winter in Michigan, or so the snow last week and ahead (!) in the forecast leads me to believe. Due to this, I’m yet to break ground on what I’m sure will be a fantastic garden. Someday, if we ever get these sprouts off the dining room table and into the yard. Yep, globe sure is warming, ain’t it?

Anyhow, you didn’t come here for garden blogging or weather blogging, and I don’t have any recipes worth sharing (though I’m probably eating a nice sausage and egg and cheddar scramble about now, which is delicious but isn’t exactly a recipe), so let’s get to the main event, shall we?

Somehow, it’s baseball season, even if Winter isn’t over yet.


“Cardio” is still lame, but I could watch this for awhile and get my heart rate up for sure.

Someone get this girl some new jeans, she’s clearly been through some awful animal attack.

I hope you wanted to see a snatch picture, because I found one.

I love pigtail braids. That is all.

This one’s probably only pleasing to me. I adore Eva.

A woman surrounded by tools. Always nice.

The weekend is over, and thank Heaven it is. I socialized way too much, spent far too much time talking, and nearly lost my voice. I told the opossum story three times on Saturday to different groups who had yet to hear it. Even I am sick of it now, but at least the trauma is finally past. I made it through another family gathering without starting any serious arguments or eating any of the devil gluten that was prominently offered. Threading the needle of the weekend, I passed through the madness, and once again welcome the warm embrace of renewal that is Monday. Now, on with the show.

Send me an angel.


Stop! Hammertime.

Beasn, no!

That’s one tough dress.

This isn’t what one normally thinks of when the phrase “her hair goes down to her butt” is uttered.

I bet she’s a skilled ball-handler.

Is she pulling those up, or down?

I’d call this token snatch, but that’d be rayciss, so I’ll just say it’s obligatory snatch.

We haven’t had a mirror shot, we should have a mirror shot.

Happy Monday, peeps. Go forth and smash through the opposition with the blinding force of a terrible thunder.

You know, for once I agree with TFG:

“Fired up! Ready to go!”

And just to show that there are no hard feelings, here’s a cake for your going away party…

Good day, hosefuckers!!!

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I know all you assface douches don’t like Ani, but Wiser will love this shit. It’s tuba playing faggots, a few other horns, and a little percussion just fucking around. Plus the drummer is a pretty good looking box licker so it fists our theme for the day.

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Do you like lesbians? I like lesbians, so today we’re going to explore the deep dark world of ballerina lesbianism…for science. Normally this weekly post–the first of its kind–would be devoted to ladies with large mammary glands. But not today piglets. Today, because yesterday was my birfinday, I reserve the right to replace the normal Friday cow with a true beauty. A stunning, gal that speaks Russian and Engrish. A chick that has one brown eye (your whore mouth; shut it) and one green eye. A gal that emails me, texts, me and stalks me 24/7. Please put down the BBD and put your hands together for MILA KUNIS!!!!!111!!!!!!!!1

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MJ, I love you. Cum back to bed.

FUCK YOU BANANA!!!!!!

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1481 – The largest of three earthquakes strikes the island of Rhodes and causes an estimated 30,000 casualties.

1802 – Washington, D.C. is incorporated as a city.

1901 – The Great Fire of 1901 begins in Jacksonville, Florida.

1937 – Gone with the Wind, a novel by Margaret Mitchell, wins the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.

1952 – The Kentucky Derby is televised nationally for the first time on the CBS network.

1973 – The 108-story Sears Tower in Chicago is topped out at 1.451 feet as the world’s tallest building.

1979 – Margaret Thatcher is elected to her first term as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

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Take Me Into Your Skin, MJ.

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I’m a bad girl, MJ. Punish me.

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I wore these boots for you, MJ.

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Drink of the Week!!!!!! A friend taught me this one.

Greetings and salutations to any and all who read this. Unless you voted for 0bama, in which case I hope your day is filled with life-altering tragedy. No, really. I hope your doc tells you that you have ass cancer. And I hope he uses those exact words. Not “colon cancer”, not even “anal cancer”. “Ass cancer”. You deserve it, you rectal wart of a foul poopstain on the dirty old brown shoe of a dishonest day laborer.

Now, to the rest of you fine folk that either voted for R&R (thanks for the effort) or stayed home (eh, I get it, but duuuuuuuude), welcome to MMM #70. With any luck, we’ll make it to 700. Actually, if I’m still doing this in… 13 years, I’ll quit. For now, though, MMM is on!

Good morning.


I, too, am ready to mix.

Wedgie!

Snatching with one hand?

Preparing to snatch?

A little stretching is always good. Well, not always, but this is good.

This picture really should go much lower, but it’s still good.

And, Eva.

Before you ask: yes, that’s a word. I just made it up. It’s an adverb, obviously, meaning “to do so in a muscularing fashion”. Also before you ask: no, that’s not a word, it’s just English-sounding gibberish.

It’s Monday again, and time for a fresh start to life. Time to be your best self and set the right tone for the week. Life’s gonna try to whoop your ass twelve ways to Sunday by, well, next Sunday. Don’t let it. Beat life like a red-headed, rented stepmule.

Now, indulge me while I look at some pretty things.

I like her expression: “Leon, spot me while I do this ridiculous exercise”. You got it, babe.


Never doubt that yoga is a sex cult.

Obligatory snatch.

Heels and a sports bra is a good look. Sort of half-assedly impractical, but a good look.

Car in! She stole your shoes!

She’s such a show-off.

I don’t know what she’s about to do, but I want to watch.

Have a great week folks. Push hard, do well, make us all proud.