The Pectoral - The Abs - The "Guns"... The Girls.
You're Virtually
Just Minutes Away From
The Private private secret To Having It All...
From: Sean Nalewanyj
Date:
Dear Futurity Hardbody,
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re you happy? I mean really happy with the way you look and feel? |
Are you happy with the numbers of attention you get from women?
Are you that guy with all the self-confidence in the world? Are you the one everyone looks at and says... "WOW?"
Do the beautiful women you meet want to be with you? Do the men want to BE YOU?
"Just imagine how more your life would-be change
if you were a new man..."
And let me tell you something... If you had a new body, it truly would-be be like having a brand-new you.
A better you.
A "you" with all the greatness you already possess, but with an appearance that screams it to the world.
And once you're the new you...
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You'll Feel Healthier... Stronger ...You'll wake up in the morning, available to take on the day with an energy you ne'er
had before.
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You'll Look Better... More Desirable ... The women you desire will suddenly look at you with the same lust... same private secret passion you've always had for them.
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You'll Have A New-Found Confidence ... No matter what anyone tells you, the truth is that the easiest and most fool-proof way to have folk feel several just about you is for you to feel several just about yourself.
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Well... you don't have to "just imagine" anymore.
You Can Have That Body That Drives
Beautiful
Women Crazy. And You Don't Have
To Live At The Gym To Get It.
"I Aforesaid 24 Minutes A Day... And I Meant It!"
It Doesn't Matter If You're...
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Fat or Skinny |
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Young or Old |
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Male or Female |
"Doesn't matter if you've tried to build muscle before and were told you were just meant to stay skinny... chubby... or "average." Doesn't matter one bit if you were told you don't have the "right genes" for bodybuilding..."
No one... and I mean NO ONE has worse genes for this than I do!
Hi. My name is Sean Nalewanyj, and you cognize me. You do.
I'm that skinny, scrawny, little weak kid you went to school with.
You cognize the one... picked on... bullied... ridiculed... day after day.
I was so browbeaten as a kid I don't think I ever ready-made it to school with my lunch money. If I had, possibly I wouldn't have been so skinny.
And being that scrawny kid meant I couldn't catch a football without acquiring the wind knocked out of me.
Couldn't make it up the rope in phys. ed., no matter how more that gym teacher called me a "little girl."
And always got picked last once
choosing up sides.
Here's proof that I tried, however. It's my ninth grade basketball team photo.
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I wasn't any nice at basketball. Didn't even as like the game much. It was just the only sport the coaches thought I wouldn't virtually
be killed playing. So they put me on the team.
14 years old. Voice changing... hormones raging... and me, the bantam 125 pound kid with the skinny neck, noodle arms, ribcage jab through my skin... and the big ears. Let me tell you it wasn't pretty.
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This image besides serves as my "before" picture. Yeah, I didn't start building my body for 3 more years, but it's the LAST image of me looking scrawny that I ever allowed them to take.
After the mocking and ridicule I went through for that photo, I ready-made sure to always have an excuse to not show up for image day.
In the next 3 yearbooks, I was that "photo not available" kid.
Then There Was That One Day That Changed
My Life Forever... The Most Painful and
Embarrassing Day Of My Life...
It was "fitness testing" day in gym class, senior year.
I already failing the rope climb part of the test. Dangling there, a quarter of the way up. I struggled so long that the rest of the class had affected on to the bench press.
I finally fell off, backwards onto the mat. No one there to even as spot me for safety.
I complete up unavowed out of the gym, ne'er
finishing the test.
I patterned
an "incomplete" would-be be more better than any further humiliation.
I thought it was all over. Until last period... study hall. Mr. Wilkey - the gym teacher - walks in.
"He stands there, rubbing his potbelly
with one hand, piece picking his teeth
with the pinkie of the other."
His eyes scan the room.
I try to duck behind my Trig. textbook, but he sees me.
"Nalewanyj - gym - now!"
An incomplete wasn't going to activity for Mr. Wilkey... He was going to do me finish the fitness test in 8th period gym class...
The GIRLS GYM CLASS!
To say I was shy about girls is a major understatement. Girls frightened the hell out of me.
Once
I was about them, I always did thing
that made me look like a total geek.
And now... nightmare of all nightmares... I had to bench press... encircled by them.
"Wilkey unbroken
it 'easy', slapping 20 pounds
onto each side of the bar. Then..."
...With all of the strength I could muster, I pushed the bar off the hooks and began lowering it toward my chest. Sure enough, the unforgiving forces of gravity took over, causing the weight bally down on my throat.
I was overcome with embarrassment as I wriggled and squirmed like a maniac, pushing urgently
with every ounce of strength to get that bar to move.
And I got it to move... off of my throat at least. The whole thing slid to my left and took me with it.
There I was, half off the bench, one end of the bar on the floor... the another precariously control up by my right arm and part of my left shoulder.
I looked like a fool... and felt like one too.
Wilkey had seen enough. With one hand he snatched the bar off me and told me to hit the showers.
I stood up, dizzy and drenched in sweat, red in the face, any little pride I had sucked right out of me.
I waited for the girls to laugh, but they didn't.
"That day I was met with thing
far worse
than ridicule. I was met with pity.
I detected
one girl whisper to a friend...
'Sad... and he's a boy.'"
Now alone in the locker room, I took my t-shirt off and looked in the mirror...
Staring at my skinny, pathetic, beanpole of a body. I threw my sneaker, shattering that mirror into a thousand pieces.
I began to cry. 17 years old, alone in the boys locker room... crying like a baby.
I remember thinking to myself... "What the hell is wrong with me?"
I'm telling you all this for a reason.
You probably ne'er
cried in the mirror like I did. You probably have ne'er
been wholly and utterly embarrassed like I was.
I'm telling you all this because as far gone as I was then...
This is me now...
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I need you to know... deep down inside you... that you can change everything. You can have the life you ne'er
thought you could.
And I'm going to show you the way...
"...The way you can build muscle. Lose fat. Change everything just about the way you look and feel right now..."
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And change the way another folk look at you.
You'll carry yourself with a whole new confidence.
"And studies show that those who look better... look healthier... get more fulfilling jobs ... make more money ... have more sex ..."
You won't have all the girls' pity... you'll just have all the girls.
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