Vancouver
2 min

Creatine & chocolate milk

It's like Ovaltine for fags

Whenever I see a guy with a hot body, I rub my belly and think, “I really need to start doing steroids.”

At this stage in my life, that’s the only way I’m going to get six-pack abs. That, or injections of Dove Firming Lotion.

One of the big misconceptions about HIV is that steroids are part and parcel of the virus. You test positive and you half expect a curtain to open up and the Rockettes to ascend from the floor, kicking and squeezing syringes of testosterone. “Don’t think of it as a disease,” a friend once consoled me, “think of it as the body you always wanted!”

Strange, my doctor doesn’t see it that way. According to him, I need to be showing symptoms of wasting before he can prescribe steroids. Like, what’s that about?

The closest I’ve come to doing steroids is creatine, aka Ovaltine for fags.

Until creatine, the only effect muscle supplements had on me was bloating. Like steroids, creatine gives you lean muscle mass, but it doesn’t shrink your balls. However, bowel movements are reduced to burning rings of fire.

Why is it that confidence so often comes in the form of a gritty white powder? I had better results from one bottle of creatine than I got from a decade of working out. And to think I had been trying to look airbrushed naturally!

At the gym I would listen in on personal trainers teaching their clients how to look like a personal trainer and mutter, “Suckers!”

There is a certain amount of entitlement that accompanies a nice body, whether you’ve earned that body or not. It’s addictive. Men approached me more often, I got better service in stores, and drinks were bought for me in bars. All because I knew how to use a blender. But what creatine giveth, creatine taketh away.

At first, you don’t realize the creatine has stopped working. The burning rings of fire are still there so you assume everything is okay.

It isn’t until your t-shirts don’t fit so snug across your chest that you admit something is wrong. You take a break from it, switch brands of creatine and still–nothing. The gym hasn’t had the same allure since. Steroids, on the other hand, do.

It shocks people when I tell them that, given the opportunity, I would do steroids. I figure, I’m getting them in my food, I might as well shoot them into my ass. Besides, I’m old enough that, by the time I start experiencing life-threatening side effects, I’ll be near death anyway.

Until then, I’ll regard my steroid deficiency as a blessing in disguise. And as for six-pack abs? Out of sight, out of mind.