Ghey, 23, hospitalised after accidentally gymming legs

A Pretoria-based Boksburg man has been rushed to the Intensive Care Unit of the Netcare Pretoria East Hospital today, after accidentally working out his legs and quadriceps this morning at the local gym he goes to every day to shout at himself while benchpressing.

Planet Fitness JusyGymPlanet manager Peck Toreals said that he first noticed something wrong with 23-year-old Ben Schpresse when he saw him approach the Leg Press machine at approximately 9:32am this morning.

"I was putting away all the weight these guys never put away when I saw him walk up to the machine and throw his towel on it," he said. "I was immediately concerned for Ben. I thought he might be having a schitzoprenic episode or a stroke. He avoids that section of the gym like he avoids the Correctly Sized Men's Workout Vests section at the Affliction Shop, like he avoids eye contact with other okes' binnets at H20 when he isn't surrounded by his mates, like he avoids the Caution Health Warning stickers against triple-stacking Creatine Monohydrate with Nitroforce Explode Gannick Pre-Workout and Illegal training supplements."

Schpresse said in a statement that the machine's muscle guide
was "all in flippen Roman gibberish" and "it looked like a
really schweet huge arm also just with like a lank big hand
at the bottom.

Toreals also said that he was concerned about Scpresse's safety on the machine.

"It's laak flippen' covered in dust and cobwebs," he said. "I didn't even know if it was still working. Maybe the cable had rusted away from disuse."

However, Schpresse has since defended his actions, saying that it is the gym's fault.

"The flippen' machine looks like all the other machines, and instead of saying 'CAUTION THIS WILL WORK YOUR LEGS AND LOWER BODY THEREBY MAKING YOUR DAK FLIPPEN SCHWEET UPPER BODY LOOK LESS AWESOME AND ATTRACTIVE' it has some kak Latin words or something, like I'm supposed to know what a Quadriceps Femoris is?"

Doctors say even though Schpresse weighs a normal 96kgs, almost 93.6 percent of that mass is located above where testicals should be instead of decimated raisins, making bone collapse inevitable. The damage to his body, say Doctors, is extensive, and that it will be a long, long road to recovery.

"As you can see from these medical pictures that Medical Law doesn't allow me to show you, there was massive, subdural extranomagigogeic fratusions to the dessicated wallnuts law forces us to call 'calf muscles', as well as hemonomal subfarctuations and dendroblalemicosial hyrogection in those guitar strings we are similarly forced to call his Quads," said Doctor May Ksupwerds. "There also might be SubNeologistic Portmanteaunia in his ankles, but at this stage I can't be sure - partly because I'm not a real doctor and also partly because we have yet to find any muscle in that particular region."

However, he said that it was probably an understandable mix-up that caused the whole debacle.

"Tried, tested and proven medical textbooks tell us that the ankle bone's connected to the, shin bone, the shin bone's connected to the, leg bone, the leg bone's connected to the, back bones, and that finally the back bone is connected to the, schweet pectorals bone. It's a fallacy of logic that hits lots of okes. Not that he would be able to remember what a phallus should really look like."

Ksupwerds added that Scpresse might be wheelchair bound for anything up to three years - a prospect that actually excites the ICU patient.

"That means two things," he said from his hospital bed where lank unschweet grohl binnets give him food that has laak fokall protein in it. "First, every day is arms day, boet! Flip, going to the gym will be half the workout in itself. And secondly, if okes try chune me about skipping legs day, I can tell them they're being racist against wheelchair okes."

Planet Fitness has since banned and removed all legs machines, not that any of its members will even notice.

"I'm actually a total pussy" admits man in Tap Out shirt

Following increasing feelings of guilt and shame, Johannesburg resident, Blue Bulls fan and training supplement addict Johannes Berger admitted to reporters that this morning that, despite his 3-sizes-too-small Tap Out gym shirt, totally schweet pecs, seeming violent disposition and tribal barbed-wire tattoos on both arms, he was, in fact, "a total pussy."

"Laaike, you maaight think that I'm laaike this lank angry oke, bru," he said in a statement yesterday morning, "but actually I'm a cowardly , homophobic-and-yet-strangely-homoerotic guy who hides behind the image of a boet you don't mess with. Brutha."

He pushed through his wretched sobs to explain how his social image and the corresponding peer pressure of his screaming-in-the-gym friend circles were forcing him to live a lie.

"The other night at the bar where I go to not enjoy myself and try to start fights, this oke's eyes momentarily passed over my chick and I was forced to do that whole 'what the flip are you flippen' looking at, china? You checkin' my chick, bra? You should chew a brick 'cos you'll lose less teeth that way, guy.' It almost turned into a fight, which I definitely would have lost, even though he was a head shorter than me, much smaller than me and was by himself thereby making him the perfect fighting target for me an my eight friends."

Berger, who has no formal training or experience in boxing, self-defence, fighting or any form of martial arts, including that TapOut MMA crap, said it was only the 'hold me back, okes, or i'll klap this flippen boet' that prevented him from getting the utter crap beated out of him.

"It was a close call," he said. "I've never even been in a fight before, even though I own a small country's GDP worth of Affliction and TapOut Tees."

Berger went on to say that although he has been keeping up a very convincing facade for almost 23 years now, it is only a matter of time before his friends discover how much of a gutless yellow-bellied sack of shit he really is.

"I've already got the crap tattoos, too-taaight kiff gym vest and schweet biceps - there isn't anything more, unless I buy an orange-magged Subaru that is strangely too small for me." he said. "I can't do anything more to prove my boytjiehood. One small slipup and I'm done for."

His friends could not be reached for comment, as they were all too busy screaming at each other by the benchpress section for "one more, boych, come on, push it!".

Ghey boet increasingly unsure what to call his chinas

'Cos bro don' go no mo'

A Johannesburg man has today expressed his growing dismay to local reporters, saying that he just doesn't know anymore what to call the guys he meets in terrible clubs or at the gym and whose names he always immediately forgets.

"I've used every other nickname or clever slang moniker under the sun," he said, wiping his tears away with the corner of the too-small ladies vest he klaps iron in. "Boet, china, bro, bru, bra, brutha, guy, oke, ou, man, dude... I just don't know what to do now... I'm running out of names!"

However, according to recent scientific research (complete with long latin words, graphs and tables that were extra-sciency in their scienciness) done by that guy we met last Friday night at Stacy's thing - J... James? John? I dunno, something with a J. We'll call him J Dawg for now - the problem could be more widespread than it may at first seem.

"Studies show that we are rapidly depleting our reserves of close-bro monikers and nicknames, at a rate that is almost sixteen times higher than pre-Jersey Shore levels," said J Dizzle. "Even the renewable ones, like bro - which has an unrivalled level of derivatives and combination potentials, such as bru, bra, brutha, brudda, broseph, brusollini, brutus, bromingo, and so on - are being pushed to their absolute limits, especially when you consider how many thousands of shit nightclubs, gyms and rugby practices there are every day in South Africa."

According to scientist oke J Man, we now face the real danger of running out of slang nicknames entirely.

By 2018, we might be forced to start using real, proper, christian first names," said J de Lazzlebro. "Can you even imagine that? Instead of saying K-man or M-to-the-T-Dizzle we have to say boring shit like 'Kevin' or 'Matthew'? No: if we want to hand down to our children this time-honoured and much-loved tradition of forgetting a boytjie's name as soon as it's out of his hissing-in-the-gym mouth, something must be done right now!"

However, Name Usage Monitoring Corporations are defiant that there is no crisis.

"There is no crisis, um, bro? wait, no, bru? damnit..." they said. "Anyway, just go about your business and try to ignore these alarmist scientists. Next thing they'll say that we're in danger of running out of fuel, or that global warming is a real thing, lol."