Where’s my fucking jockstrap?

So here I am, recuperating after being manhandled by the paw-lice last week, only to realise that I can no longer bench press my body weight! What have the pigs done to me – I only stopped training for a week.

Argh… I don’t each much because I’m so afraid of getting fat. I’m disgusted by fat people. Maybe I’m anorexic or something. I’ve got a friend who’s a professional bodybuilder, and I asked him if I could have some juice. This cunt said if I could come to his gym and work out an hour every day for six months, he’ll think about it. I know I have to eat to put on muscle, but eating makes me hate myself, but not eating makes me depressed and lethargic (as I am now).

I’ve been reading up on juice for about a year now, and I think it’s the best solution. I don’t give a fuck about roid rage or liver cancer. Should I quit smoking? I don’t (ie. can’t) smoke much because I’m nicotine-intolerant and chainsmoking makes me really sick.

I’m all bruised and bleeding, inside and out. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going.

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