I am so ready to turn my ass into a pin cushion.

What's up with that? Here's the deal. I can not get my weight over 186. I work out really really hard at the gym. I eat enough to feed a plough horse. It's genes. Damn them. I come from a long line of tall and lanky people. (Given the fact that my forbears were coal miners, they must have been bumping their heads fourteen times a day.)

I'm living in the 21st Century. And I'm a 21st Century kind of guy. I can change my eye color. I can get liposuction. I can avoid baldness. I can pierce any part of my body I feel like. I had my myopia and astygmatism corrected through laser surgery. I'm not used to to taking 'no' for an answer. Especially when what I want is something that seems fairly simple and straightforward: sixteen inch biceps and a forty-eight inch chest. I mean, it's not like I'm after (Heaven forfend) washboard abs.

Steroids proliferate. The obvious problem is the aggressiveness and moodswings. But I am such a low-key, even tempered guy that I doubt that would be a big problem with me. Maybe swing me up to normal. Normal for New York City anyway. And then there's the fact that abuse will turn your liver into pate de compagne. But, I rarely drink alcohol, and I could avoid Tylenol (processed by the liver), and drink lots of water. The liver is one of the few organs that can repair itself if you take care of it. So that leaves the issue of testicular diminution. Mine are nice. The size of apricots. I would hate to see them go. I wonder if they come back?

Maybe I should talk to my doctor about this. See if she can give me a compelling reason why not. But here's the thing. I know so many guys that use them--many with a doctor's prescription--that the credibility goalposts are already set pretty far back. I could probably score some without much difficulty. And I have all the sterile syringes that I could want. Gratis. A moral dilemma.