Yeah I remember running into Rippetoe at a strip club once. He professed his love for cognac, claiming GOMAD actually meant Gallon Of Martell A Day when he thought of it, which meant I had to shell out a hundred bucks for a bottle of Cordon Bleu if I wanted a chance to pick his brain about fullbody workouts. Unfortunately, I couldn't get much out of him other than a constant chant of, "do your fives!" while he got a lapdance from a chunky stripper named Nancy. After the bottle was finished, the fucker slipped away by pretending he needed to take a piss. He didn't even tip the fucking stripper. What an asshole.