Beast 8-Step Summer Makeover
nasty spare tire is easy to cultivate: spend hours on the
couch in front of your TV with the ESPN logo permanently
burned into the right corner. Rise only to get more Cheetos
and beer. It’s not so easy to shed, however.
the absence of real motivation, you must create your own:
imagine an angry pack of bikers chasing your flabby ass
down the street. You’d run, right? Well, have you ever noticed
the striking resemblance between 30 Harleys lined up in
front of a bar and a series of dominos? Go ahead and give
the one on the end a good kick, shout your favorite anti-AC/DC
epithet, and go, man, go, those fuckers are coming for you…
Before you know it you’ll be sweating. Just remember to
stretch, ‘cause cramps suck enough without getting stabbed
while you’re doubled over. If you can’t find any bikers,
just throw something at a cop.
is the only time it’s acceptable, even admirable, to negotiate
pennies (you cheap bastard). You know you need that Barry
Manilow Songs from Copacabana album to complete your
collection, but 40 cents? Come on, that’s highway robbery.
Lowball ‘em; offer up a shiny Eisenhower, and after some
balking and empty threats, you should be back home surrounded
by the glorious strains of “Mandy” for a mere quarter. Added
bonus? You get to hip-check to the ground that cotton-top,
who drove 10 miles an hour in front of you all morning,
as you both reached for that gold-standard of garage sales,
the electric can opener. Sweet, sweet vindication.
Pimp Your Ride
being embarrassed about that '88 Olds Achieva sitting in
your driveway and take some initiative. A little limo tint
goes a long way, and a careful application of metallic contact
paper can give that custom chrome accent look that’s all
the rage. A few holes drilled in the exhaust pipe (for that
“performance” sound), a nice homemade spoiler, and some
Sprewell rims ought to complete the transformation from
eyesore to “Whip” status. Really want to turn some heads
while you’re cruising Chippewa at 2 a.m.? Mount a sparkplug
in the tailpipe, wire it to your battery, and a switch on
the dash, and get ready for some serious bat-mobile flame
action. The women will flock.
nothing like an 80-degree day spent imbibing 12 of your
favorite frosty brews while behind the controls of 300 horses
of wake producing power. Besides, no summer’s complete without
some rich asshole maiming his friends when he runs his $60,000
is the time to garden, farmer. There’s nothing like the
satisfaction gleaned from sitting down to a nice, light
meal created by the simple toil of your own hands, unless
you figure time and supplies and realize the lone, dirty,
wilted head of lettuce that managed to stay alive just long
enough for you to eat cost you about $300.
says community like an evening of malt liquor and friends
on your front steps. Even well into the twilight hours,
when everybody’s shouting at the top of their lungs for
no reason, your neighbors will not complain, mainly for
fear of violent retribution.
that it’s warm and you can stroll around shirtless, you
need some good ink to show off. Celebrate your uniqueness
by shelling out a cool couple hundred so some guy named
Thunderbolt can make cube-steak out of your flesh for an
hour. We recommend a likeness of your favorite guns on your
stomach, so it looks like they’re tucked in your pants when
you take your shirt off at the beach, but your last name
in gothic script across your entire back is cool too.
Go to the Beach
that you’ve worked off that spare tire, pimped your ride,
and inked your skin, it’s high time to show it all off.
Grab your towel and your favorite muscle shirt (we know
they’re all your favorites, so just grab any one) and hit
the sand. Ball sports are especially popular, so leave the
Frisbee at home lest all those beautiful women think you’re
gay because you’re not wrestling two of your buddies for
the pigskin. Oh, and do us a favor? Put your fucking trash
in one of the fifty garbage barrels that are at every area
beach, you pathetic, lazy waste of skin.