LIVER KING STATS: HEIGHT, WEIGHT, AGE, DIET AND MOOOOAR!

LIVER KING HEIGHT AND WEIGHT AT BIRTH... AGE: 0 DAYS TO ADOLESCENCE

Born C-section and riddled with inner ear malformations from the jump, I had the grace of a baby giraffe. Especially late to walk and talk, after several surgeries and sutures, I was on my way with a decent shot at life, or was I? Dad gets stationed at Lackland Airforce Base in San Antonio, TX... Father passed when I was only two... I have no memory of him. Raised by a bull of a single-mom, hardest job in the world, she kept his stuff and his pictures absolutely everywhere. Turns out, I missed him beyond measure and I sure as fuck could've used his mentoring to prepare me for the shitstorm that was to come.

LIVER KING STATS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL... AGE: 12, 13, 14 YEARS OLD

SCHOOL: Pat Neff Middle School, San Antonio, TX

HEIGHT: 4 foot 9 inches at 14 years old

WEIGHT: 85 lbs at 14 years old

DIET: Fast food, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Cokes and mom made delicious AF ribs!

This stage and phase of my life was a living fucking hell.

I was the only one-of-my-kind at my school... to make matters worse for myself... I was grossly undersized... I looked funny... I didn't have a single friend... I got the shit kicked, punched and pummeled outta me on the daily — for years (no hyperbole). I never stood up for myself... I didn't respect myself and everyone knew it, so they didn't respect me either. These days were filled with isolation, shame, embarrassment, humiliation, and zero self-worth, which turned to hate, rage AND revenge.

SIXTH GRADE: I stopped using the bathrooms

SEVENTH GRADE: I stopped going to the cafeteria

EIGHTH GRADE: I made a kill list... it was going to be me, or I was going to kill every singe one of those mother fuckers that ever fucked with me — starting with Felix Sanchez.

Welcome to middle school you piece of shit.

Speaking of Felix, it was my first day of middle school before first period. I see a man with a full on mustache (Felix) hawk a loogie into his right hand, draw his hand all the way back for maximum power, and then I see his open palm — way bigger than my whole head — coming right at me. Next I see stars, I see myself on the ground, I see and feel that goddam loogie dripping down my head onto my face, and I see this mother fucker never even break stride or look back. Welcome to middle school you piece of shit.

I got knocked-the-fuck out dozens of times in middle school...

I'd wake up, likely concussed, no one around, the bell had already rung and everyone was tucked away in class. I'd collect my shit and myself to try to sort where to go next... this was routine. No one ever did anything about it... not even me. Balling with tears, I tried to tell my mom on day one that I wasn't going back... bless her huge heart, trying to be both mom and dad as a single mom, she made it clear as fucking day this was not up for discussion and I would continue at school no matter what.

Guess Jeans, Guess shirt and Redwing steel toed boots. EVERYTHING was about to change.

Fast forward to 8th grade, not much has changed, just more of the same. Bloody AF fights between rival gangs on the daily, and the teachers wouldn't dare get involved. SAPD called on the regular. Real gangs at my school, real guns, real consequences. Then one day mom's boyfriend, JJ — who drove a 1964 red convertible Corvette — gave me some hand-me-downs from his son... a pair of Guess Jeans, a Guess shirt and Redwing steel toed boots. I couldn't fucking believe it!! Tomorrow, I would slick back my hair and wear this to school... I'd fit in, they'd take me in, and EVERYTHING would change. It'll be the first day that it didn't disappoint... turned out to be a downright legendary day!... best day in my fucking life... it actually worked!

So I'm feeling pretty good about myself... feeling like a king with my new clothes. Then it was last period football practice. Don't remember shit during practice because I never did... didn't know the game... had never seen a game... just tried my goddam hardest in hopes of being taken in. Whistle blows, practice is over, time to get dressed. I open up my locker and my heart sinks to a new low... all of my new shiny shit was gone... my new clothes... gone. My new boots... gone. My new outlook on life... all fucking gone. I walked home that day crying inside, wearing Pat Neff standard issue gym clothes: white T, navy blue short-AF shorts, and my white socks.

This was my 1st rite of passage, and it changed me forever.

With absolutely no concept of self-worth, I had to figure a way out of that shitstorm hellhole that was my life, and I did. Towards the end of 8th grade it happened! I got stronger. I looked stronger. I was forced to fight back. I was able to impose my force of will.

The Kings (a popular gang at my school) arranged a fight for their soon-to-be newest addition versus me... this would be Chris Rivera's initiation fight and it would be a cake walk because there's no goddamn way that I was going to fight back. By the grace of god, I found a friend, my only friend, his name was Justin Para... Justin and his mom convinced me to fight... they told me that I could do this... his mom drove me to the fight in their Ecoline white van. They believed in me, even though I didn't believe in me.

Turns out, I was strong as fuck... I manhandled this kid... I took him down as if he were weightless.. I mounted the kid... I pulled my fist back to strike and I saw how helpless he was... I saw how pathetic... I saw his embarrassment... I felt his humiliation... I looked into his eyes and I saw myself. I let him up and there was an unspoken agreement about what had happened. I got into the van crying... my friends mom said, "Son, you did good... you are strong."

Unbeknownst to me, I had always been capable of carrying a load... I had always had the strength (no shit... I had been working out for 5 fucking years)... I also never had the courage (the kinetic drive) to do exactly dick with it. Well... fuck that. Game on bitches. Now they know... every-fucking-body now knows. My peers took me in and I doubled and tripled down on working out, anabolic eating, and I went on the attack.

I started to accept responsibility, took extreme ownership and I ran towards my demons. I led myself to confidence and courage, and I created a brand new life for myself... a life that I wanted to live in. That was my 1st legitimate rite of passage: the separation (alone as fuck), the hard as fuck test (years worth), and the return (they took me in... I had new status, new rights and I found my tribe).

It changed me and it forged me into the evolutionary hunter, the unrelenting fighter, the serial ancestral entrepreneur, that I am today. I couldn't be more grateful for Felix Sanchez, Chris Rivera, The Twins that beat the fuck outta me and humiliated me, Robert Bridgeford who cold clocked me from my blindside, Jonothn DeLeon who gave me bloody noses every gym class, and every other beating I took to form weaponry. I'm most grateful though to Justin Para's mom and Justin because they believed in me. A young liver king in the making and a start at creating net worth (measured in self-worth).

NOTE: I knew that I would never let my own boys endure such physical and psychological pain (I can't imagine a lot of young primals coming through this better) so I developed a rite of passage specifically for them... it's called Barbarian and it's fucking hell.

LIVER KING STATS IN UNIVERSITY... AGE: 19, 20, 21, 22 YEARS OLD AND PICKING UP GIRLS AT THE BAR

SCHOOL: TEXAS TECH UNIVERSITY, LUBBOCK, TX

HEIGHT: 5 foot 7 inches at 19 years old

WEIGHT: 170 to 175ish lbs... ripped, lean confident AF machine

DIET: Little to no fast food... I cooked and prepped my food for the week — largely chicken breast, brown rice and eggbeaters (fake egg whites)!

I'm a loser... community college and remedial classes

All of my friends went off to the University of Texas (UT) while I stayed back and went to San Antonio Community College (SAC) because I had shitty grades, shitty SATs, and shitty access to money. My first classes weren't even real classes for credits... they were remedial classes like reading, math and English... the kind of shit they expect you to know from high school, which I didn't because I was too busy surviving in my formative years. I didn't learn any academics in middle school which meant that I had no basis to learn in high school either. As I read the remedial classrooms, I noticed that most students could barely speak English and appeared to be massively struggling... in life. I knew I didn't belong there so I took massive action, and for the first time in my life, I applied myself to scholarly endeavors. I did accelerated coursework and applied to all the universities in Texas.

I'm a fucking rockstar... from "admission probation" to unlocking the thing

Texas Tech University was the only one with "favorable" news... their letter was an "acceptance/admission on probation" indicating that I needed to do better than my past, get good grades, and meet with a goddam guidance counselor four times a semester, or else... So I got to fucking work! From then on, I made virtually all A's throughout, earned a full academic scholarship, graduated Summa Cum Lade, and wrote a thesis. By all metrics, I fucking killed it!

I cracked the code to school

Truth is, school was hard AF for me... I didn't understand or retain jack dick. Chemistry, physics labs and genetics were the worst. But I had figured this bitch out. Same way I figured out the middle school hellhole, the 1st year of loneliness in high school, and picking up girls... I cracked the code of school.. I figured out a specific strategy to achieve for each class, and it was rarely academic in nature. A few examples:

1. Another chemistry class, another opportunity. I started dating a girl in the class on day one... she was smart AF. She let me copy her assignments. We had the exact same answers for EVERYTHING. I got to know the professor. I attended his bible study. I volunteered for one of his church programs. I formed a bond. She got a B... I got my A!

2. Another biology class, another opportunity. Time was running out and I had a solid C. I scheduled a meeting with a notoriously motherfucker of a professor, explained how hard I worked to earn my perfect GPA, and proposed a special project, and additional coursework to prove understanding and mastery of his curriculum. He declined. I asked "why," to which he replied " you didn't earn nor deserve better..." to which I replied, "then let me earn and deserve better however you see fit... what other options will you consider?" He allowed me to retake all the semester tests in his office right next to him. Turns out, the motherfucker of a professor was pretty helpful every time I wasn't so sure about an answer. Got my A!

3. Another class, another opportunity. This time, it was philosophy and I immediately knew I was in over my head. It was the familiar feeling of... fuck, I don't understand any of this shit (looking around, contemplating... am I the only one, again). I also immediately picked up that he seemed visually proud of himself every time he used one of his fancy words (he rotated the same words every chance he could): ubiquitous, deleterious, efficacious, avant-garde and gravitas. I cataloged his words. Studied them and used them in every exam which were all written. Got my A!

Fraternity life...

When I got to Texas Tech I immediately pledged a fraternity. During rush week, it sure as shit helped to have a muscular build and to know how to carry myself... I stood out and everyone wanted to talk about it. They all invited me into their respective tribes... strength matters to further one's own interest, and to further the interests of the tribe.

I was the first pledge to maintain a 4.0 GPA during the pledge semester because all I did was lift weights, study, and fraternity life (partying/girls, and fighting)... in that order.

During hell week, the actives made us play this game where two pledges would stand back-to-back while gripping the same short rope. Whoever could pry it from the other, wins. They put me against Brent Green... he was a fucking stud, athletic and a good friend... I didn't give a fuck though... it was on. Three, two, one... with all my savage might, I used my hips, pulled hard as fuck, leveraged the right mechanics and strength, and then the tension was gone... Brent goes flying over my shoulder. I can see it in slow motion right now... he's now in front of me... he's up in the air 6 or 7 feet... limbs frantically dangling... he lands on his head. A bloody mess. He remains on the ground... a puddle of purple blood still pouring against the dirty white porcelain tiles. He's off to the hospital.

It was all more of the same... raising hell!

More lifting (now twice a day), more partying, more girls, more fights, more taking other people's shit, more raising hell, but this time, I always put the gym and the classroom first, without exception. Everything was earned... it felt better... it tasted better... it looked better... life was pretty fucking great, and it showed!

Exit strategy

I was supposed to be headed off to medical school when I overheard this conversation about how much money this guy is making... he's getting over 100K (great money back in the year 2000), a company car, a company cell phone (yep, they're now commercially available), a company laptop (never had one of those) and crazy benefits. I started taking notes... I hear the word "pharmaceutical rep." I decided then and there, I wouldn't spend another four years in medical school... I'm going to do this pharmaceutical rep thing. I found my exit strategy just in time. Yeah, I'll be a pharmaceutical rep (despite not knowing anything about it other than the pay, the car, the phone, the laptop... lmao).

LIVER KING STATS "THE ENTREPRENEUR"... AGE: 30 - 40

JOBS: OWNER/INVESTOR, CEO

ROLES: BRIAN JOHNSON, HUSBAND, DAD

HEIGHT: 5 foot 7 inches for the rest of my adult life

WEIGHT: 175 to 185

DIET:
30's to mid-30's... No fast food. High protein, moderate carb, and low fat. Lean meats like chicken breast, white fish and turkey patties with sides of brown rice and the occasional 1/2 gallon binge on cookies and cream ice-cream.
Mid-30's to 40.. No fast foods. High protein, wild, organic varieties, lower carb with the occasional dextrose refeed and high fat consisting of bone-in seared steaks, beef organs, liver, bone marrow, some bull testicle.

We started the first comprehensive dental center

After the collision course with my wife, Barbara Johnson, we bought a dental practice, and assembled a team of foremost subject matter experts in every discipline of dentistry... we vertically integrated to become the first comprehensive dental center, with a dental lab and imaging center, in a boutique, luxury setting.

I started Ancestral Supplements

If all I had was my family, with no money in the bank, I would remain the highest net-worth person on the planet… I would know, because I’ve been there and done that too! After struggling in the dental business for a decade, Wife forced the issue... she was retiring to do what she was born to do... to be a mama to our cubs. This is when I decided to become the CEO of the Ancestral Lifestyle... which is why I started in supplements and the nine ancestral tenets.

I figure shit out

I figured out the physical... earned my Roman chest plate and a centerpiece six-pack in high school. I figured out the social/emotional by enduring, overcoming and striving through the hellhole of middle school... by learning to embody and express such strength and value that they have to respect you and accept you. I figured out school, sales and negotiations... play the person, not the game. I figured out the code that unlocks the thing… the blueprint to a fulfilling relationship and any business endeavor. It's called Barbarian!

DOMINANCE - LIVER KING'S NET WORTH

Initially, this article was supposed to be about my height and weight... I got carried away and did what I do best... MOOOOAR! To be certain, when it comes to stature, I stand head and shoulders above with a commanding disposition that commands winning because I know my WHY in the world.

It's not merely a matter of genetics (something that he had precisely no control over and he did precisely nothing to earn); it is a symbol of how he elevates... how he rises to any challenge.. why and how he creates net worth... how he carries himself to new heights... how he attracts his complementary opposite (Liver King's wife — Liver Queen, Barbara Johnson) and how he builds his legacy... his family!