lady velo, doper extraordinnaire

So yesterday in my mailbox I received a catalog. This is not exactly news, since as near as I can tell catalogs make up about 75% of all the mail being delivered in the United States at any given time, but this was no ordinary catalog. Oh no, my pets, this was the catalog to end all my miseries forever. It calls itself the Vitamin Shoppe.

I checked the back. Yep, that's my name on the address label. Where these people found me, I may never know, but I suspect Rodale Press. In any case, I immediately assumed that the "vitamins" in question were probably the same "vitamins" Barry Bonds and the entire Russian powerlifting team are so fond of. Call me cynical, whatever.

The first few pages were pretty tame. It gradually sucked me in with known gateway drugs like Gu and PowerGel, but oh, did it get better fast. Some of the more tempting options:

Secretagogue-One

Secretagogue GOLD!

Stallone Pudding

No-Xplode

Of course, there weren't quite enough varieties of HGH to fill up the whole catalog, so after a while the good stuff disappeared and the pages were instead filled with actual vitamins and weird new-agey things, including an entire page of "mushroom formulas." Oh, and banana flavored protein bars. I throw up a little just thinking about it.

All's I can say is it's a damn good thing I haven't mailed my order for this year's team kit yet, because I will now be ordering everything in Extra Beefy. You fools are toast.