This isn't the "we're thankful for you" email

Alright, let's get this out of the way.

You're about to get 47 emails today that say "We're SO thankful for YOU, our AMAZING customers!" with a stock photo of a turkey and a coupon code like GOBBLE20.

This isn't that email.

This is the email where I sit here, post-leg-day, quads screaming, trying to figure out how to tell a bunch of 45-year-old men who willingly drink liquids that taste like battery acid mixed with regret that I appreciate them.

So here's what I'm actually thankful for:

Every guy who's taken a RAD Mass shot, immediately made a face like he just walked in on his parents, and STILL came back for bottle #2. You're not customers. You're warriors. Disgusted, grimacing warriors.

The 53-year-old who hit a bench PR last week and immediately texted his adult son to talk shit. This is what the gym is for. Intergenerational psychological warfare.

Every nurse, firefighter, cop, and night-shift warrior who works 12 hours, sleeps 5, and still finds time to hit the gym before the family wakes up. Your alarm goes off at 4:45am and you CHOOSE violence. Respect.

The guy who posted that Equi-Mass "tastes like the devil's ballsack" and still gave it 5 stars. You understood the assignment. Results > comfort. This is the way.

Everyone whose wife has asked "did you order MORE supplements?" while you quietly slide the box behind the protein tubs like a teenager hiding contraband. We see you. We ARE you.

The "skeptical" guys. The ones who've been burned by every "revolutionary" supplement since creatine was new. Who rolled their eyes at our ads. Who thought "yeah right" when they ordered. And then hit us up at week 3 like "okay... what the hell is in this stuff." Welcome to the other side.

Everyone over 50 who refuses to "act their age." Your doctor says "moderate exercise." You hear "leg day." Your knees sound like bubble wrap. You don't care. You're not done yet. Neither are we.

Every guy whose response to "what are you taking?" at the gym is just a mysterious smile. Keep the mystique alive, kings.

Real talk — you guys aren't just "customers." You're a bunch of stubborn, skeptical, hard-working dudes who refuse to let age, genetics, or a 60-hour work week tell you what you can't do.

That's rare. And it's why this company exists.

—

NOW. SPEAKING OF STUBBORN.

I know some of you are sitting on a half-empty bottle right now telling yourself you'll "reorder after the holidays."

Brother. The holidays are WHEN YOU NEED IT.

BUY 2, GET 2 FREE

Stock up now. Survive the pie. Dominate January while everyone else is "getting back into it."

Spend $100+ and we throw in a free hat and lifting straps too.

Code: B2G2

Here's the link: vintage-muscle.com/shop

—

Now go crush some turkey. Take a nap that would make a retired cat jealous. And when your relatives ask what you've been up to, casually flex while reaching for the mashed potatoes.

They'll know.

Happy Thanksgiving, you beautiful, stubborn bastards.

- Jared

P.S. — If you're reading this at the gym because you're getting a workout in BEFORE dinner... you're insane and I respect it. If you're reading this FROM THE TABLE while pretending to check "work emails"... you're my hero.

P.P.S. — No, the tinctures won't taste better mixed with gravy. Someone's going to try it. Please don't be that guy.