Victorian guy
New member
Brothers,
I have read that 'roid rage' is nonsense. Well, let me say, after Sunday's events, I KNOW roid rage is real, and it frightens me!
I have been on a bulking cycle of 2 grams of test a week and 200 mg anadrol a day for some months now, and I can tell you I definitely must be experiencing roid rage. Here is how it all happened-
Sunday began as always. I awoke in the morning, ate stacks of pancakes, several packs of sausages, 2 dozen eggs, and a 5-scoop shake of Joe Weider's 'Mega Mass 4000', then donned one of my 1500 dollar Italian suits, and headed off for Sunday mass. My driver, Nobby, whisked me to the 500 year old Cathedral I attend every Sunday, and we both walked in and sat down most humbly and reverently.
As the mass commenced, I heard a voice behind me whispering, and some giggling, and simply EXPLODED in rage. I spun around, and screamed "SILENCE! This is a HOUSE OF GOD, you tramp!!" in the face of the teenage girl who was the cause of this disturbance. The congregation fell silent, even the priest stopped saying mass for a moment. The man in front of me turned around and gave me a most insulting look, as if I had somehow done something wrong here!
I sat shaking in rage at this pencil neck, and when that part of the mass came in which members turn to others and shake their hands, saying 'Peace of Christ', this man turned to me.
"Peace be with you" he muttered, and held out his hand.
I grasped his hand, began crushing it in a vice-like grip, and screaming!!
It took 20 parishioners, including Nobby, to pull me off of him- I voluntarily released my grip, and he fell to the floor, his hand a lump of crushed bone!
Later, outside, as the ambulance took the fellow away, a hostile crowd of parishioners approached me. One of them, a woman who looked about 100 years old, 5 feet tall, and not a pound over 95, came at me brandishing an umbrella- she meant to strike me! Nobby saw this danger, and came rushing forward, clothes-lining the old witch with one of his stubby, massive arms- she was knocked backward so hard that she did a perfect back-flip, arse-over-tit, and fell to the cement like a rag doll. Then the priest approached us, and I punched him right in the face with the force of a wrecking ball, sending him sprawling to the ground, knocked out cold. Nobby took out his bike chain and, swinging it over his head, sent the rest of the hostile crowd running in terror.
Nobby and I got into the Rolls Royce and left the scene, as the blaring of police sirens grew near.
Those bastards! They were lucky I hadn't stuck about to press assault charges!
I have read that 'roid rage' is nonsense. Well, let me say, after Sunday's events, I KNOW roid rage is real, and it frightens me!
I have been on a bulking cycle of 2 grams of test a week and 200 mg anadrol a day for some months now, and I can tell you I definitely must be experiencing roid rage. Here is how it all happened-
Sunday began as always. I awoke in the morning, ate stacks of pancakes, several packs of sausages, 2 dozen eggs, and a 5-scoop shake of Joe Weider's 'Mega Mass 4000', then donned one of my 1500 dollar Italian suits, and headed off for Sunday mass. My driver, Nobby, whisked me to the 500 year old Cathedral I attend every Sunday, and we both walked in and sat down most humbly and reverently.
As the mass commenced, I heard a voice behind me whispering, and some giggling, and simply EXPLODED in rage. I spun around, and screamed "SILENCE! This is a HOUSE OF GOD, you tramp!!" in the face of the teenage girl who was the cause of this disturbance. The congregation fell silent, even the priest stopped saying mass for a moment. The man in front of me turned around and gave me a most insulting look, as if I had somehow done something wrong here!
I sat shaking in rage at this pencil neck, and when that part of the mass came in which members turn to others and shake their hands, saying 'Peace of Christ', this man turned to me.
"Peace be with you" he muttered, and held out his hand.
I grasped his hand, began crushing it in a vice-like grip, and screaming!!
It took 20 parishioners, including Nobby, to pull me off of him- I voluntarily released my grip, and he fell to the floor, his hand a lump of crushed bone!
Later, outside, as the ambulance took the fellow away, a hostile crowd of parishioners approached me. One of them, a woman who looked about 100 years old, 5 feet tall, and not a pound over 95, came at me brandishing an umbrella- she meant to strike me! Nobby saw this danger, and came rushing forward, clothes-lining the old witch with one of his stubby, massive arms- she was knocked backward so hard that she did a perfect back-flip, arse-over-tit, and fell to the cement like a rag doll. Then the priest approached us, and I punched him right in the face with the force of a wrecking ball, sending him sprawling to the ground, knocked out cold. Nobby took out his bike chain and, swinging it over his head, sent the rest of the hostile crowd running in terror.
Nobby and I got into the Rolls Royce and left the scene, as the blaring of police sirens grew near.
Those bastards! They were lucky I hadn't stuck about to press assault charges!
