Humiliating Comparison

Shall we compare? or, maybe i'll just do a little show and tell. comparing with you would be like comparing apples to oranges, and that's just silly. there just is no comparison. i start with my brick like pecs. they're so big and hard. i punch them as a "sound check", just to prove to you how solid they are. such a deep cut down the center that separates the two pec muscles. i flex my biceps, as if i even need to talk about them. but, we will! my bulging bicep peak exploding over my boulder shoulders. you'd do anything to reach out and touch them. especially my epic bicep peak. it's like i'm always in shape. my consistent physique never fails to entice you. my sleeve stretching biceps get bigger with every pump and flex. my most muscular pulls your attention in even deeper. the way my traps erupt into mountainous fixtures, and my veins explode from under my thin skin, has you feeling weaker than you already are. i challenge you to try to wrap two hands around my biceps. you never could. i compare a giant coffee mug to my biceps. let's focus on my abs. do you even have abs? my triceps create a wishbone effect as i control them. continuous muscle comparison talk and flexing is the focus, along with my rippling and striating muscles. you exist to worship a muscle goddess like me. and trust me, you, i appreciate your appreciation, and the fact you know what a real woman looks like. i built this temple, and you should feel honored that you get to witness it!