To recap from last week, I told a little story about some punk's face being introduced to the back of Craig Titus' hand at a Niagara strip club. After our little adventure at that strip club, I decided that it would be best to keep Craig away from anywhere like that for the remainder of his stay. The 
following morning rolled around and both Craig and I were sporting massive headaches. I mean, what do you expect? I was out partying with Craig Titus. The man can drink. Anyway, we were sitting eating a massive breakfast and Craig started getting into telling me how he had a few comeback opportunities on the horizon. For example, he was talking about possible meetings with supplement companies for sponsorship opportunities. Craig was very open with me about how frustrated he was. Every meeting he went to ended in the same story "We would love to sign you but your current criminal record is bad publicity". I felt bad for him. Craig had a remarkable physique, he was young and he was a good-looking, marketable guy. Inevitably, he asked me if I had any connections or influence at Muscletech. I didn't want to impose or strain my relationship with Muscletech, but Craig really needed the help and I wasn't going to just leave him hanging. That just wasn't how I was raised, if a friend needs help, you help him.
I got on the phone with Paul Gardiner and we were there the next day at Muscletech headquarters. Unfortunately for Craig, he got a quick tour of the facility and a pat on the back, right out the door. Craig was devastated. I figured we would do something that always made me feel better when I felt like shit; go train on the Kovacs Farm. I was pretty well established at this point and I had a fully equipped, hardcore gym on my parent's farm. I had the heaviest and most intense workouts of my career on that farm. To put it all in perspective, I had such a large breadth of machines and equipment; I could have easily sold memberships. The place was that good! When Craig saw my gym, he was absolutely shocked at the size of it. I'd say it was the same look so many women had on their faces when I showed them my "Canadian Colossus". All kidding aside, we thrashed our quads/hams and then we fried our calves. It was too bad we didn't produce any footage of those training sessions. If we had, you would have seen how transformed Craig's temperament was. After the training session, he really seemed to be in a totally better place.
Craig's mood dropped off a few hours later and he was talking about how lonely he was. He, actually, picked up the phone and called a girl he had been meeting for conjugal visits while in prison. Craig convinced her to come up from New York and visit him in Canada for a few days. She said she was busy and would try to make it. She took down our address and other information in the event she could fly down. But the Craiger doesn't wait around. As soon as the receiver was down, he had pulled out a number from one of the stripper's from the night before. Craig invited her to dinner and eventually, into my home for a night cap. Yes, that's right; Craig was plowing some stripper in my home. He, obviously, felt very comfortable. I wasn't about to cock-block the guy, I'm a good host. Just ask Nasser.
It was about 2 a.m. and I was still awake watching television. I had little choice since I couldn't sleep with Craig railing the stripper in the guest bedroom. I was just drifting off out of pure exhaustion when I heard a knock at my front door. I had a feeling that I knew who was on the other side of the door. I opened the door and there was a gorgeous redhead standing there with a suitcase. She was unbelievably attractive and standing on my doorstep at 2 a.m. looking for Craig. Suddenly, Craig's life didn't look that bad after all. She said "You must be Greg; I'm Craig's friend from New York". What was the Canadian Colossus to do? Well, I played it as cool as a cucumber. I let her in and let her have a seat in the living room upstairs and told her I would get Craig. I tapped on the guest bedroom's door and out popped his sweaty little blonde head and I told him what was going on. I would like to think that the average person would have panicked or missed a step. Not Craig. In his California cool guy style, he just said "It's all good bro. Go talk to my girl while I get rid of this one". This wasn't typical for me and I had no idea what to say to the other girl. So I lumbered upstairs, got her a drink and told her he would be up in a minute. I made small talk and a couple jokes. A few minutes later, Titus came up the stairs escorting the stripper out the front door. He was acting like it was no big deal or anything. He turns to the girl from New York and gives her a big hug and carries on like nothing happened. The girl from New York seemed a little shocked but never said a word. I found that pretty odd. Craig must know voodoo or something because this chick stayed for 2 days.
Craig and I were chilling, watching television, that next morning after the girl from New York left. Craig was lying on my couch, looking up at the ceiling, talking about a girl he had met while he was in Detroit the week before. She was an IFBB Fitness Pro who had won the Detroit show and her name was Kelly Ryan. He believed that she was going to be a great champion and was going to try to start dating her. He thought it would help his chances to get back on the good side of the bodybuilding industry. He told me that he would date her, marry her, get a contract with her, and get her plastic surgery for her lips, breasts, and a few other procedures. He said that she would help him get back on top in the bodybuilding scene. I guess the great Craig Titus-- part-time psychic-- didn't foresee one tiny variable . . . his fall from grace in the world as a result of the grisly murder of his future personal assistant.
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