You don't really know me. You think you do -- middle-aged, bald-headed guy; fitness-book author -- but all that is just a cleverly boring persona I created to mask my true identity.

My real father wasn't an overweight insurance salesman, as I've often claimed, and as I believed for much of my life. On her deathbed, my mother confessed that my father is actually Thor, the Norse God of Thunder, whom she picked up when he was hitchhiking across Minnesota. (He promised to use protection, but you know how it is with pagan deities when they hook up with mortals. They really can't help themselves.)

My career as a fitness journalist, which started at Weider Publications in 1992, was originally just a cover for my secret life fighting crime in the bodybuilding and adult-entertainment industries. My porn handle was "Rock Harter," which, funnily enough, also worked as my bodybuilding name. In publishing, I originally tried to go by "Clark Kent," until I found it was already taken. So I settled for "Lou Schuler."

To the best of my knowledge, I'm the only undercover crime-fighter in history who won a regional bodybuilding title and four AVN awards while breaking up a major steroid-distribution ring and foiling my arch-nemesis, Dr. Dirtypillows, a fiendish cosmetic surgeon who tried to bring the adult-film industry to its knees with exploding breast implants.

By the time I stopped Dr. DP, he'd already scalpeled his way into the mainstream entertainment industry. You'd be shocked if I told you how many models, singers, and actresses are walking around with C4 implants, thinking they're made of saline. And not all of these ticking time boobs are implanted in people named "Spears."

Unfortunately, I made powerful enemies, which is why I went into the Semi-Immortal Bastard Offspring Protection Program and moved to Allentown, Pennsylvania, in 1998. Since crime here is mostly restricted to a six-square block area, and there's not much demand for an undercover crime fighter who specializes in detonating breast implants, I've been living a quiet life as a fitness journalist and family man.

But now I'm ready to sell my real story to the highest bidder, just like my new mentor, Margaret Seltzer:

Seltzer isn't the only one following in the footsteps of James Frey, the hero to every struggling writer who can't get a novel published and decides to pass off fiction as memoir. There's also Monique De Wael, a 71-year-old Belgian woman who claimed to be a Holocaust survivor named Misha Defonseca. De Wael, who isn't actually Jewish, wrote a book called Surviving with Wolves, in which she claims to have escaped the Nazis by living with a pack of wolves and walking 1,900 miles across Europe. Somewhere in there she says she shot and killed a German soldier.

Personally, I think being the illegitimate son of a Norse god and making the world safe for breast implants is a much more titillating story, but I'll let the publishing industry decide. My agent is fielding offers for my memoir as we speak.

I can't believe it's not blog meat!

• In a clever new study, researchers at the University of Buffalo cut back overweight kids' TV and computer time. They ended up eating less and losing weight. But this was unexpected: When compared to a control group of overweight kids whose TV and computer time wasn't restricted, they didn't get any more physical activity. So what did they do with all that extra time?
• Elderly men with the lowest testosterone levels have higher rates of depression. Maybe that explains why John McCain decided to wade into the fever swamp of autism conspiracy theories.
• Courtesy of Rannoch Donald, here's the funniest story I've read all week. And here's the second funniest.