Bad news. Last night, in a fit of inspiration, I went on a car flipping rampage!
Woke up in jail this morning hands all greasy, disheveled clothing, and no memory of the previous night.
One cop was kind enough to fill me in on the gory details.
Apparently some time around 12:30 after snorting 6 huge rails of creatine I donned my T-shirt and painted my face up like the alpha baboon. Then went howling into the night attacking any small to mid-sized car in my path. 2 Saturns, a Ford focus, and 3 Hondas later, I collapsed in a heap under a Yukon.
Apparently I bit off more than I could chew. The police responded to numerous calls of what they thought was a roided up, methed out transvestite going ballistic. They say that in a semi-catatonic state I just kept rocking back and forth mumbling something about bulking, machines, and inspiration.