Dear Darren Smeath
I know you are still dirty with me for the series of articles I wrote about you suggesting that it was improper or unwise for the Queensland racing authorities to let you race horses – either through your own company Smeath Racing, or in partnership with your old footy mates at Boom Racing – while you remain an active producer, wholesaler and retailer of Human Growth Hormones, EPO and Peptides, sold in syringes and without a proper doctor’s visit to get a prescription.
I don’t hold it against you that you played in the second string Brisbane comp with Easts – many a racing man has played Brizzy comp; President JC of the Capalaba Dogs was playing A-Grade back before there was an NRL, when it really mattered. Or that the drugs have shrunk your balls so much that they’ve squeezed your brain, and led you into a delusion that only a dozen people read my prose.
I just put that down to you not being good enough to play A-grade like my brother Jason Donnelly (Jase of course played for the Kiwis too; Kia Ora!), and the inevitable side effects of shooting yourself up with drugs, so that you can artificially pump more muscle to hide the fact that you’ve got a bee-sting size dick, and acne all over your back.
I forgive you Darren, and I have a proposition to make.
With all those readers of mine out there, surely among them there have to be a few trainers who want to put on a bit of beef. All they need is a bit of encouragement, an online drugs cabinet, and good spruik to get them going.
Here’s my proposition.
You sponsor the website here to the tune of about ten grand a year, and I will use my writing talents to exploit my extensive reader base by implementing back-masked, quasi-scientific, voodoo techniques to hypnotise them into believing that you are Charles Atlas, and getting them to give you a ring.
From your seemingly inexhaustible locally manufactured stash of illegal supplements, and using your call centre doctors resuming from a spell after a period of dodgy doctor suspension, you can then supply the skinny dodgers with the gear.
EPO, human growth hormones, peptides and all that other stuff you stock. Steroids too if your compound pharmacist mate can get them.
All I ask in return is that you just give me the tips.
What do you reckon mate?
Love and Shrunken Gonads
PS – Don’t worry if some of the readers ask for the syringes with the stuff in them to come unlabelled. They don’t like their neighbours knowing their business, that’s all.