All Jacked Up And Nowhere To Go [Sep 24, 2002]
One of the many pharmaceutical companies who sponsor this website recently sent me the most wonderful product, called Minty-Fresh Testostogrease. It is, in fact, male testosterone distilled to its essence, manufactured into a chemically-enriched gel, and shot through with a bit of blue food coloring to give it that extra jolt of goodness. I have absolutely no qualms about praising PharmaMed of Switzerland, fully support their mining practices in Sri Lanka, and don't think it's a conflict of interest that Interior Secretary Gale Norton sits on their board of directors.
For the last two weeks, I've been squeezing a dollop of this magical testosterone substance onto my hairy chest, rubbing it in while rhythmically chanting the name of Ayn Rand, and feeling raw male power surge through my increasingly muscular body. Within minutes of use, I find myself surfing the news channels faster and faster. By the half-hour point, I'm able to absorb both the information coming out of the broadcaster's mouth and from the ticker at the bottom of the screen.
My life has certainly changed since I began using applicable testosterone. Where I once ate three meals a day, now I eat four. My writing output has increased by at least a page an hour, and I find that my opinions are sharper, my observations more cogent, my ability to accurately quote George Orwell more potent than ever. I'm increasingly able to see that all opposition to our war with Iraq is foolish and futile, and I will kick the ass of anyone who disagrees with me. Man, I just want to beat up other guys all the time!
Yes, there are problems. I've grown more aggressive. Just yesterday, my manservant Roger served my morning eggs coddled, not poached, and I tackled him to the ground, beating him mercilessly with a silver tray. Fortunately, because of my testosterone-supplemented mind and body, I was able to apply first-aid to him with greater speed and efficiency. Then I ran five miles to the nearest hospital with him on my back, and I barely broke a sweat. Roger is resting comfortably, and has only suffered minor brain damage. He should be back to work next week.
As for my sexual drive, let's just say that I'm big as a horse and I'll hump you all night long if you only ask.