Randy Berry

Daddy · Athlete · Entertainer · Performer · Rocker · Lounge Aficionado Owned by a ferociously bootyful lioness. 📩DM for Bookings & Sponsorship📩

Black and white is less, yet, it is so much more.
Nothing to see here. Just 2 good ol' boys saving some old dude from choking on his own tie. It happens. Courtesy of the "I Begg Your Pardon" show on @yourtvcornwall
The fine art of doing nothing.
At some point in our lives, we all enter a crossroads. Some of us more times than others. We can either stop dead and lay in the tracks, or we can continue laying the tracks. At the end of the day, the tracks you lay are your own, so make sure you build a path worth following. Photo: Michael G Brown Photography
Working on myself, for myself, by myself. #armyofone #lonewolf
My failed attempt at seducing Mr. Sandman for sleep. Anybody know if there's a Mrs. Sandman lurking around?
We may or may not need a bigger mirror....or bathroom.
Freedom lies in being bold. Some will hate you and some will love you, but they will all see the real you. Bracelet: @imperialuxx
Real talk time. This is for all the self-proclaimed gym "beasts" walking around. At the tender age of 4, I idolized Sylvester Stallone and Hulk Hogan. I was immediately drawn to their impressive physiques and the larger than life personas they portrayed on the big screen. I wanted to be them. In fact, I would often emulate my idols when playing with friends. At the age of 5, mom bought me a Hulkamania set, complete with 2 plastic dumbells (2.5 lbs. each), Hulkamania headband and instructional/motivational cassette. At the age of 8, my grandfather bought me a York weight set for Xmas. A total of 30 lbs., I believe. At the age of 14, I got my first bench press and nearly 200 lbs. in weights. That's when shit got serious. I knew that if I wanted to look like all my heroes I grew up with, I'd have to dedicate many hours a week to training and sculpting my body. And so I did, in a small grungy basement, after school and on weekends. At the age of 16, I joined a gym. Since then, I've walked countless miles to get to the gym, including treacherous thunderstorms, snowstorms, ice storms and blizzards. I've trained tired, angry, depressed, sick, hungover, hurt (emotionally and physically), as well as injured. I've trained through break-ups. I've trained through sleepless nights. I've trained on holidays. I've trained on the days loved ones had passed on. I even trained when I fell out of love with fitness and no longer wanted to do it. Here I am at 37 still living it. Moral of this post: Being a beast is not about size, how jacked you are, or the amount of weight you can lift. It's about heart, dedication and sacrifice. It's about what you're willing to do and let go for that lifestyle. It's about dragging and pushing your ass through the hard days, even if you absolutely don't feel like doing it. It's about making it a priority. It's about making it your fucking life. All year round. That's what it takes. So....you still a beast?
When the needle strikes gainz o'clock! 🕘💪
Guns attract buns. Get your permit. 💪🍑
And where are we going, sir? Anywhere but nowhere.
We haven't even begun to scratch the surface. Just a glimpse of what's comin'. Stay tuned.
2 years ago - 15 lbs. lighter and a lot leaner. Currently working towards this look again. Let's grind! #tbt #bodygoals
Just 2 immaculately outrage👌us dudes.
I miss her and the times we've shared. The bumps and bruises, not so much.
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Any Rockers in the house? Comment your favorite band(s) below. ⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇
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