Guy's Got Balls...Huge Ones
Many of you saw, or at least were aware of, the President's State of the Union address last Tuesday night. Guy's got balls...huge ones. So big that he can't walk around without having Janet Reno and Madeleine Albright each hoist one on their shoulders and shuffle around behind him (yeah, I know that Reno's a lot taller than Albright, but his left ball rides a lot higher than the right).
Regardless of what you think of him personally, you gotta' admire that ability to walk up there like nothing had happened; to stare back at his accusers without so much as a flinch. A little more than half of the "audience" was sitting there wondering if Clinton had been getting his hedge clipped when he personally called them to garner support for a particular bill last May or June or whenever.
Personally, I wouldn't care if someone were getting his knob polished during a phone conversation. In fact, I'm getting a toe job as I write this. Granted, it's not from a Testosterone intern or anything...it's just Charles' pet poodle, Glutes, who's licking off the remnants of the peanut butter sandwich I dropped on my foot a couple of hours ago. Regardless—despite the distraction—I'm able to conduct affairs of state with my usual aplomb.
But I digress. I like the idea of a "State of the Union" address, so much so that I thought it might be a good idea if I wrote our own little "State of Testosterone" address:
My fellow Testosterone heads, our inaugural year has been a good one. The Internet, like baseball, has been very, very good to us. We first poked our pointed heads out of the cyberspace effluvium last May and, because of your care and nurturing, we've grown tall and strong. The hits came on pretty strong at first, but now they're coming with the same frequency and rapidity as Francois Botha's fists on Mike Tyson's jaw last Saturday (before Botha got knocked out).
Tribex-500 sales are doing extremely well, as more and more people become aware of its testosterone-raising properties. And Power Drive has developed a cult following in professional sports. We think that, in the next year, it'll be an indispensable part of your gym arsenal.
Thousands of puzzled lay-people are walking around the country wondering why that young man who just passed them was wearing a jet-black T-shirt that said "Testosterone." Charles Poliquin's books continue to sell briskly, and 1999 will see the release of a couple of new ones, in addition to a series of Charles Poliquin instructional video tapes.
Research and development is going strong. In 1999, you'll be able to buy Grow!, the first common-sense, tastes-like-God-himself-made-it, meal replacement drink. We might also see the release of Grow! PM, designed specifically to take advantage of nighttime hormonal cascades. The year should also see the release of an advanced anabolic flavone product. We'll also continue to look at the prohormone market, but we won't enter it until we've got all of the bugs usually associated with prohormones worked out.
I can't give you all of our secrets, though. As you know, this is a highly competitive market, and there are groups out there that never develop anything original on their own; they just wait, like alligators under a bird's nest, waiting for ideas to fall into their jaws (and you know who I'm talking about, Twinlab!). Rest assured, though, that anything we do will be new, revolutionary, and effective.
And most exciting is the imminent release of our first printed copy of Testosterone magazine. (Remember, if we don't have your name and address in our files now, you're not going to get one; you'll just hear about it from people at your gym.)
We've got a lot of ideas, and we don't really care who we piss off. We'll either be carried around on your shoulders, or we'll be run out of town on a rail by some guys named Guido and Vinnie who were hired to make us disappear. We don't know what will happen; we only know that we'll have a great time doing it.
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