Dear Diary, I got up about 10 o’clock and ran to the bathroom to look myself in the mirror. I’ve noticed that I was more pumped – up than yesterday. On Wednesdays I give myself double doses, and that is why Wednesday is my favourite day of the week.
I took the ampoules, syringe and new needles and I began the process, but just when I wanted to give the injection, a nervous knocking on the door has interrupted me; it was my father and he urgently had to use the bathroom. I tried to explain to him that I have just given myself anabolics, but simply the man didn’t understand, so I quickly gave myself a shot of anabolics and opened the door. My dear Dad has sent me to hell; I noticed that my dad was all frown and I thought that he had to be on insulin, too. Impossible, it is probably from the gastro – intestinal problems.
I went to my room, gave myself 20 units of insulin and went to have a breakfast. Unfortunately for me, there were no eggs in the refrigerator, and in a fit of rage I nearly tore off the refrigerator door. There ran up my father and started shouting that I was not normal behaving person, because of all these proteins; yesterday I handicapped the dog and now I’m breaking inventory in the house… I told him that it was because I missed the protein – there are no eggs in the fridge and I took anabolics. He says he has no idea what I’m talking about. What the hell is with him? What he has taken in his youth; probably he had procured himself with the 100 % growth hormones therapy?
I made a huge sandwich of ham and cheese and asked my father where he had purchased the growth hormones in the past, but he would not tell me, he just left. I heard ‘stojadin‘ in the yard. It was F.; he took out the passenger’s seat so he can sit comfortably, because he has grown so large and muscular. He says he shifted to HGH and takes 10 units per day and that he plans to gain on his 135 kilos of body weight a new 20 kilos of high quality muscle mass.
We sat down for a coffee and talked as usual about anabolics and about new products from mr. D. and affordable prices. It was lunch time, and I went home and ate everything my mother has prepared – pile of potatoes and veal, and I heavily poured the juice on all the stuff; for a second I thought that my digestion will not endure, but when I looked myself in the mirror, all the sufferings has gone.
I started with the hormone therapy; it’s very fucked-up procedure. Hormones have to be mixed with a solution and only then injected into the body fat as the same way as the insulin does. I gave myself seven units; it’s no good to overdue initially. I also thought to give to my dog some stuff; for the sake of his ribs to heal faster, but it was time to go to training.
For some time, F. and F. were hanging around. That day we were working on our hands, and at the end we all posed in front of the large mirror; I really look beautiful but I’m not even close to F.; F. is really huge! I hurried home because I felt mild symptoms of hypoglycaemia. I ate anything that has sugar in it and went to take a nap.
When I woke up I ran to the mirror and I felt my muscles grow, and all that wonderful feeling of loving my pumped – up body. F came to help me to give my dog some HGH, but we could not catch him, poor animal run around the yard and F. started to sweat. Sweating was harmful to F.’s body mass, so he took a shocker from his pocket and shook poor animal and then implied HGH, and said that tomorrow he would be as good as new. That evening I and F. went out to disco – we were the most pumped – up guys of all of them, so consequently F. started to yell on all those people something like, ‘hey, arses where is your muscular weight?’ When the security man has come, F. showed him his biceps and told him to fuck off; he had immediately left but returned afterwards with eight security personnel, and we had to go for chicken. Before going to bed I drank a protein and ate a pound of lean cheese and went to sleep.