May 31, Day 85, 244.6 lbs, 35% bf

Dear Diary, 
Mentally I feel like s**t. Physically I feel fine. Don't feel like talking to you today though.  All this talk of feelings is bothering me. Not really feeling it.  I'm pretty sure you don't give a f*** either way. I know I don't. F*** you.

May 30, Day 84, Beats me.

Dear Diary,
Holiday weakend.  Palm Springs. Long drive. Really windy. Sand storms. Strong drink.  Late dinner. Big burger. Garlic fries. Big bill. No scale. Small gym. Archers sweet.  F*** you. Dumb b***h. That's all. 
PS. Actually, I found a wack a** analog scale in the gym. All I can be sure of is that I weigh less than 250. Maybe. Plus I had to do it fully clothed. I'm sure they'd frown upon my nakedness. And by they'd I mean the hotel staff. There are plenty of guys around here that might encourage it, not that I'm a gay guys cup of tea or anything like that. Do you think gay guys drink tea more than coffee? Actually that's not important. I still left a message for my window into the gay community to get a ruling on that. Also not important, and I didn't know this before I got here but Palm Springs seems like it's some kinda gay Mecca. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's more noticeable than the LBC. But then again Long B. E. A. C. H. Where the hardest gangsters be, is pretty spread out. I don't care either way. I'm just here to enjoy some time with the family and its going great so far. 
PSS. As this post script section is much longer than my original message I feel compelled to tell you to f*** off again dips**t. 

May 29, Day 83, 243.2 lbs, 35% bf

Dear Diary,
I've heard it  said that  "slow, but steady wins the race." Which f***in a**hole said that? It seems like something your dumb a** would say. Have you ever heard of a f***ing sprint? Slow doesn't work so well. After working out in the morning, bike and weights as usual, we did the family races. Clean out your f***in ears. I said races, not racists. We love all people. Being clear, I said people. And you are not people. TLO suggested that she and I start out with a longer distance because she knew it was the way to beat me. And damn, she was right. First time I ever lost to her. I quit at the end. No more will in me. But I got her by a belly in the shorter race. I guess the gut is good for something. Being clear, I still want it gone. All in all it was a great day, well except for that part when I almost died. I should state for the record the losing weight does not mean that you are getting in shape. I made that pretty obvious as I laid on the floor, hoping I didn't black out. If the feeling isn't clear to you I can make it so. Just give me a reason. You feeling froggy Diary? Then jump  so I can cut your f***ing legs off.

May 28, Day 82, 244.2 lbs, 34% bf

Dear Diary, 
I'm up this morning riding the bike and watching Soap. This show is wonderful. I never knew how great Benson was. I mean I knew he was funny, but damn! He talked more s**t than I remembered. So much that it seems strangely familiar. But I can't seem to place it.  You can't help me out you stupid muthaf***a?  I should beat the s**t out of you. You have been and continue to be worthless. See oddly enough, the thing is...I don't actually hate you. I'm not too crazy about you, but I don't hate you. It's not even dislike, not that I like you. Don't get me wrong. I don't like you. But I probably could like you if we didn't hate each other so much. Huh? Oh you saw that episode too? You know that I stole that little diatribe? I wouldn't call it stealing. It's more like fair use. And it explains how I feel I about you. Kinda. Except that I truly hate your punk a**. Keeping me honest and dumb s**t like that. I mean I wouldn't lie to myself. Ok I have before. Like telling myself that the big a** carrot cake that the people were eating across from me at lunch yesterday wouldn't hurt. At least I knew I was lying. But hey. One thing I've never lied about was dusting TLO every time we raced. Today is Lyons Family Race Day 2011. Time to kick some a** and take some...Well I really don't have to take any names since I know them already. Here's an opportunity to see if any of this weight loss helps. You better f***ing hope so. 

May 27, Day 81, 244.6 lbs, 31.5% bf

Dear Diary,
I almost let go. I thought I couldn't take things anymore. My weight gain had me down and my face had a frown, so I had a drink and fell asleep. You bastards almost had me. I wasn't feeling it last night. If I was gonna miss my goal, I was gonna do it in style. An icy hot super slide down the chubby pole. Uh. Yeah I see that too. Didn't mean it like that.  Let's try again. I was going out in a blaze of glory. No. Not Blades of Glory, but that was a good flick.  I tried reverse psychology on myself, but quite honestly confused... myself. So I got up and hit the bike. Twenty miles and some time on the weight bench. I feel guilt if I don't get my workout in. Plus I had to do it. Yesterday I admitted to myself that I was hooked on granola. It was a big step. No exaggeration, I could not love a human baby more than I love this bag of granola. As I continued to pile that s**t into my mouth, I felt the guilt and the sugary taste. It may have been part of the reason for the recent increase. It's hard to stay mentally strong when you know you're f***ing up. Hey! Calm down. I know this is like a gift to you to hear me admit fault, but f*** you as usual. I totally want to cut off your skin and wear it to my birthday... It's coming up... It'll be like your gift to me. It'll cheer me up. Thanks b***h. 

May 26, Day 80, 245 lbs, 31.5% bf

Dear Scale,
F*** you. Maybe you didn't get the message or maybe you don't respond well to intimidation. Can't figure you out. Kinda like you can't figure out peoples weight. I guess we're both failures and idiots. But we can fix this easily and theres no better time to do so. Not sure if you know, but I have a goal to meet in the next 5 days. On top of that, a holiday weakend is coming up. Huh? You've got spell check? Well f*** me. I really thought you were stupid. I mean you don't do much and you're rather inconsistent. Oh no. You can't turn my words back on me. I've been anything but lazy and I've worked out consistently for a couple months now. So now what a**hole? Like I was saying, I've got a goal to reach in the next 5 days. Five pounds. Five million ways to die if you fail me. You should see what I did to that iPhone last night. And I liked it.  Just imagine how I'd enjoy ripping you apart. If we don't work together to hit my number, you won't need to imagine. That is all. 

May 25, Day 79, 244.2 lbs, 33.5% bf

Dear Diary, 
Me getting mad at you for what the scale says is getting kind of old. But I don't give a f***. It's what I do. And what do you do? Not much really. But what you should do is go f*** the scale up. Piss runs downhill and since you're above the scale in this hierarchy you better start pissing ON him, because you're pissing me OFF. I had a usual day for eating with the exception of having a pretty small dinner. I came back later and had a protein shake and a banana before working out to curb the hunger. So this morning I was really expecting to see a slight decrease and not a slight increase. And yes, I hear you. Its small. But what am I supposed to do? My philosophy is to f*** you up. I'm not insane. In fact, I'm kinda rational. Should I figure out a scale of pissitivity? Half a pound is nothing to be mad at... But what if it happens two days in a row? What about three? Look, I think very deeply and I can't be happy about that outcome. I can't be happy with this either. OK, I get it. I can. Just a few weeks back I was 250. Good point, but I'm not about complacency. I can't be happy where I am because its not where I want to be. And if I can't be happy it must be your fault. If its your fault I'm not happy, you better not be happy. Are you f***ing smiling? I will knock those paper mache teeth out of you muthaf***in mouth. Get mad! Get mad at that scale and knock some damned sense into it, before I get rid of it and make you the bottom of this food chain. I will attack you like you're the  body fat that the stupid a** scale can't keep track of and break you down. Cell by f***ing cell until you aren't s**t. You f***ing amoeba.  


PS. I don't play around nor do I f around
And you can tell by the bodies that are left around
When some clown jumps up to get beat down
Broken down to his very last compound
See how it sounds? A little unrational
A lot of mc's like to use the word dramatical
Fresh for '88, you suckas

May 24, Day 78, 243.6 lbs, 37% bf

Dear Diary,
I f***in love Netflix. It's amazing. When coupled with my Apple TV I feel like I have all I need to lose weight. Well with the exception of trail mix and bean burritos. Oh yeah and my weight bench, and treadmill. Huh? Oh am I leaving something out? You're right my bike and the EBG. Speaking of the EBG, I rode 27 miles last night while watching the last 2 hours of Luther. If you didn't get on my nerves so damned much I'd let you watch it too. Plus I know you were trying to get me to give you credit for my weight loss again. But no. Never. In other really obvious news, Luther was great. TLO was even in the room for a bit, but she doesn't like TV like I do, so she could care less when something I couldn't have expected happened. I would have hoped she'd at least watch it based on her love of Idris Elba, but that's her crazy a** sister. Speaking of crazy ladies, I saw some lady in the neighborhood riding a bike yesterday and I thought "that looks dumb." Boring too. Riding around in circles looking at some cookie cutter houses. Speaking of cookies, I ate a couple last nite after TLO baked them all fresh and s**t. It's almost a guarantee that I'm gonna smash one if she makes them. I can also guarantee that if I didn't have the setup I do in the garage, there would be no EBG. There would be no weight loss and I'd be sitting my fat a** upstairs watching The Daily Show. There would be no you either. So again it's a mixed bag. A**wipe.

May 23, Day 77, 245.6 lbs, 33.5% bf

Dear Diary,
F*** yeah! It's Monday!!!! I get to go back to work. I've made it through another weekend. Short nights, parties and marathon church sessions all done.  I get a somewhat predictable schedule and my swag back. I think I left it on my desk last week. You gotta be careful with those. You leave it laying around and you might just get swagger jacked. Kinda like Ice Cube used to jack for beats. Huh? An example you ask...  I'll give you a few. Ne-Yo jacked Usher a couple years ago to get his singing career started. Really mild case. Lil' Wayne temporarily jacked Jay-Z to get his career back on track on 'Tha Carter'. He gave it back when the album was done. He later usurped T-Pain's swag and shows it to him every once in a while. They currently have a swagger sharing agreement. But the most egregious case of swagger jacking is Trey Songz kidnapping of R. Kelly's to end his career. And by his, I meant R. Kelly. Never has anyone so successfully moved into another persons persona, since that chick in the movie Single White Female. I have information from a reputable source that has confirmed my suspicion that Trey Songz has the R's swag locked in a cage, and drinks a cup of it's blood daily. He will not return it. R. Kelly has  no chance of ever getting it back and hasn't been seen since. But be careful, because swagger jacking can be dangerous. I fully expect Songz to get married to an underage girl anytime now. Kinda like your dad, Diary. How is Helen Keller doing anyway?  I never knew what they had in common. The Kama Sutra doesn't come in braille, so what does she rub on? You know what? Don't answer that. Moving on. Because of the dangers of swagger jacking, I will be working on my own. No! I will not be jacking myself. Though I do love myself. Much more than I hate you. A**hole.

May 22, Day 76, 245.8 lbs, 31.5% bf

Dear Diary, 

Another late entry. Huh? Where have I been? Oh. I've been caught up in the rapture. No, no, no. Not that one. But that was funny. Thanks for thinking I was eligible to disappear. With that said, I am trying to make parts of me disappear and I might need some supernatural help if you believe that f***ing scale.  But no, I mean I've been listening to Anita Baker...

Caught up in the rapture of love

Nothing else can compare

When I feel the magic of you

The feeling's always new

Caught up in the rapture of you

Huh? You didn't really believe I was singing about you? This is awkward. Hmmm!?! I've got nothing. Also, you didn't really believe it was all going down yesterday did you? Uh, really. This is also awkward. You can't blame me for that. Yes, I know I told you that you were going to hell. I meant eventually.  But hey, you thought there was a chance that the world was ending and maybe I took advantage of that.  I figured in case the whole Armageddon thing was accurate, I didn't need to worry about my weight. I put down a good meal from Lucille's for lunch. Barbecued chicken, brisket, beans, mashed potatoes, corn and whatever else they put on my plate. Sidebar: I have to stop hanging out at Felicia's gatherings right when I cross the 20 lbs lost mark. Always have a setback. Back to business.    It was wonderful living without worry. Then... nothing. Nothing happened yesterday. To celebrate nothing I ate the small remnants of a piece of red velvet cake that TLO  had. It was so good it felt sinful. To repent I decided to hit the bike. Got in a good 21 miles while watching Luther. No not Vandross. The show I was telling you about. See you've been so caught up in this end of times madness that you haven't listened to me. F*** it.  I lifted some weights and finally went to sleep at 1 am. I was rewarded by the scale telling me that I had gained weight this morning. Wasn't really awkward. Just an uncomfortable silence. F***ing a**hole of a scale had nothing to say for himself. Usually I'd be pissed, but hey, it's not like it's the end of the world, right? I'll kick his a** later. 

May 21, Day 75, 244 lbs, 33.5% bf

Dear Dead Man Walking,
I've got some good news and some bad news. What do you want first? Actually, I don't give a f*** what you want first. The good news is that I got the weekend off to a good start. I ate little yesterday. Not that it was the plan, it just happened that way. I was busy and not too hungry. Got home at the end of the day and rode the bike about 16 miles and lifted weights. I found a new show on Netflix. Luther. Its a BBC show starring Idris Elba. Its great. And actually this is part of the bad news. Its only a 6 part series. I'm gonna have to find another show in a couple of days, but I'll enjoy it while I can. He's a cop in the UK so his accent is his real voice. It was kind of a slow start, but it picks up. I got thru a little more than 2 hours last night while working out. Its a temporary replacement for the Sons and it is worthy. OK. Time for the bad news. Some d**khead is saying that today is the end of the world. Well if it is, thats good news for me and bad news for you. I'm heaven bound. They say all dogs go to heaven and I was called a dog plenty of times back in the day. I've even been called a b***h. So I think I'm pretty much covered even if I have to sneak in in drag. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure you're going to hell, so it's a mixed bag if you will.  Huh? HAHAHA. No, you're not there already, but if you'd like I can turn up the heat for your b***h a**. Actually, I was talking to Bushworld the other day. You remember her. From Day 69? She said you should be burning any time now. So there will be no need to turn up the heat. If you make it through the day you might want to get that checked out. I told you not to f*** with her.
PS. Speaking of drag, can I borrow a dust jacket? The one with sequin will do just fine.

May 20, Day 74, 245.2 lbs, 34% bf

Dear diary, 
No big change yesterday. That's fine for now. But I have my month end goal to get to so I'm working hard. TLO asked if I was still riding the bike. Not sure if she's been paying me too much attention lately, but it's nice to get encouragement along the way and know she's checking on me from time to time. It keeps me moving especially when I think I can't lose more. And of course you're no f***ing help. I'm doing this for me, but sometimes I'm pretty sure I'm looking for attention. No it's not a cry for help a**hole. I just don't feel like dwelling in obscurity. So luckily, I got a couple of compliments yesterday from people I work with. I told one lady that I lost weight by riding the bike and eating better. It's funny they noticed now, since I've been hanging around this spot for a while.  It's possible that though the weight is staying about the same, the body is slowly tightening up because of the exercise. Either that or they haven't paid much attention to me, which is completely plausible. People ignore me all the...time. Diary. Diary. Diary!!!?!? What the f*** are you doing? Oh. This is a protest? Well f*** you b***h. Whats your problem? Huh? I give you credit. It's the credit you deserve. You're not the one riding the bike. Do you know how tough it is without the Sons of Anarchy? No.  You don't. You're not the one constantly looking for decent s**t to eat all day long are you. Nope. I haven't had a Big Mac in months. Do you know how tough it is to drive by McDonalds all the time? Nope cause you sit on your lazy a** and beg for credit. Now shut the f*** up. Huh? Oh. You weren't ignoring me. You weren't looking for credit for my weight loss. Oh. That's what I like about you. You're so selfless and supportive. Just ignore me. Everyone else does. 

May 19, Day 73, 245 lbs, 34% bf

Dear Diary, 
Had a good day yesterday. I'm in a good place. I'll do what I can to make it a better place tomorrow. My happy place if you will. If you and the scale want to go there with me, you better not f*** this up. Every time I get happy about my progress something happens. I plan on doing what I have to do. You b***hes better do your thing. That is all.

May 18, Day 72, 245.6 lbs, 34.5% bf

Dear Diary,

Let me start off by saying I have no fear of going to prison. Well none other than the fear of getting jumped in the showers. I see that on every prison movie that's out there and I can only imagine that it's much worse than they show on the big screen. I guess I'd have to also say I'd be afraid of the guards and the warden too because they're probably all crooked and they'd steal my daddy's watch while forcing me to start a prison football team. They'd probably be the ones to set up the shower scene too. Bastards. Also I'd be worried that I couldn't get the nice fish lunches that have become a part of my diet. I had the Cajun Salmon at this place called Fish Bonz yesterday. It was great. Good portions. Hope it was good for me. Don't think they deliver to the big house though. One thing I'm not worried about is all the time I'd have to read in my cell and do push ups. I'm pretty sure I could spend more time getting in shape in there. Plus it would be a great time to get more ink.  I say all of that to say that I will spill your ink in the muthaf***in streets if you ever try to tell someone that I am abusing you again. There will be pain like you've never felt before. I will make a very public display of  f***ing murder.  Hey b***h, before you start all this blubbering and crying and pleading and s**t, trying to figure out how you can escape from this fresh hell that you have gotten yourself into, I want you to think  about some things. First, you cant get away from me. Doesn't matter how far, fast or long you run. I'm like Jason. I always go at the right pace to get you.  Second. Was it worth it to ruin what we had? I understand I may not always treat you the best. And? I realize that I verbally abuse you and you think you deserve better. I'm not so sure you do. Did you really work hard enough to convince the scale to tell me I was skinny? Well? Did you? Take your time to answer these questions. I hope you find that the treatment you get at my hands is well deserved you stupid son of a b***h. Stop snitching. This ain't a game. Keep your 50 cent. 

May 17, Day 71, 248.2 lbs, 32% bf

Dear Scale,
F*** you. I had so much more to say to you this morning but it all comes down to this. F*** you. I've been working hard to make things easier on you. Hasn't it been somewhat more pleasurable to have a lighter me stepping on you? Yeah it has right? So why won't you just give me what I want. Let me be skinny and happy you a**hole. You will? I don't believe that. I can't trust you. Should I believe you or my eyes and clothes? The stomach is coming in and there is a little less fat to pinch. So I like some of what I'm seeing. No I'm not getting full of myself. I'm just saying. I'm also just saying that I really don't trust those numbers you're telling me. Whats up with the crazy fluctuations in body fat? And I know that I lifted weights yesterday and only went 6 miles on the bike, but that couldn't have caused the increase in weight?!?! OK it could have. Maybe we'll blame the water. That small increase could be due to increased water consumption. Whatever the reason, I'd like to be really clear with you. I don't like it. I don't like you either. But we need each other. You need me to get you batteries and I need you to tell me the truth. If that doesn't work then tell me I'm skinny.  There are plenty of other scales out there that would be happy to have me step on them. Don't f*** around and get dumped, cause I got pumped.
PS. Sorry Hans and Frans  

May 16, Day 70, 247.2 lbs, 34.5% bf

Dear Diary, 
Made it through the weekend with a slight decrease. That's a small victory. Take them where I can get them.  Day 70. Nothing special about this one. Nothing special about day 69 either according to TLO. I'm encouraged that I'm moving in the right direction and that's special enough. Did that sound fruity?Well I did eat an apple and banana so maybe that's it. Back to eating right to get right.  I'm going to enjoy getting skinny cause I earned it this time. No quick fixes. Quick, easy s**t goes away too fast and you never appreciate it the way you should. I appreciate every pound lost. But let's be clear. I'd appreciate it if they went away faster too. I have goals a**hole. I'd like to reach them sometime this year. I think I've been missing that part for a while. So my goal is to get to 239.9 by the end of May. Now that I'm focused and have a number to hit with a timeline you better stay the f*** out of my way or I'm gonna take you down with my weight.  I'd appreciate you more if you went and f***ed yourself. Douche. 

May 15, Day 69, 247.6 lbs, 31.5% bf

Dear Diary,
You thought I forgot about you huh? How could I ever miss this opportunity. There is only one day 69 and I just happened to get busy causing me to get at you a little later. No. Not that kind of busy. Though it would be nice. Nope, I worked out this morning. Weighed in. Then went to church and got a good message. M-E-S-S-A-G-E. Listen. I'm not sure where your head is but...Oh. Do you even know that book well enough for that? Yeah, its named Bushworld, but its about George Bush. Its a collection of articles Maureen Dowd wrote about his presidency. Which sucked by the way...Oh. Hey, have fun. Well at least after I'm done. I always come first. Remember that. I had a tough day. All kinds of temptation everywhere I went. Chili dogs. Big Macs. I really wanted some fried fish. I tried to get advice from TLO, but she didn't know what to tell me. Did she say what I wanted to hear or did she tell me the truth? I shouldn't have put her in that position. No, not that position dumba**. Plus it was only day 68. No, I couldn't just owe her one! What is your problem?!?! I ended up getting us some grilled fish, but I did get a side of catfish nuggets, which did nothing to fill my craving. I fell asleep yesterday after eating the fish. You son of a b***h. Thats not what I'm talking about. I'm just trying to say I ate well. Well except for that cookie. It was so good. Melting chocolate chips. Nuts. It was so warm. Killed it. I looked like the cookie monster when I was done. S**t all over my face. It was so good I grabbed a glass of water, because I didn't want the taste in my mouth. Stayed away from milk, cause I'm sure the way I was shaking from the excitement, it would have gone all down my chin. You know what. I can't do this anymore. You're nasty. Screw you, I'm out...Oh. You would like that huh? F*** you later, if not sooner. B***h.
PS. How can you keep doing that while I'm writing in you? Oh yeah, your father was the Kama Sutra. Hell, he'd be proud. You did learn something from him. Congrats. A**hole.
PSS. Speaking of a**holes, what do you call that move?

May 14, Day 68, 247.4 lbs, 36% bf

Dear Diary,
Had another lazy day yesterday. Trying to recover from the sleep I lost this week. Paid bills. Did a little work. Shopped. Ate. Hung out with the family. Had a root beer float. Only medium sized though. Fell asleep talking to the wife. Lost a pound. If everyday could be like that I'd only need to talk to you for another couple of months. But you, I and reality know it can't be that way. So here's to both you and reality. F*** you both!

May 13, Day 67, 248.4 lbs, 34.5% bf

Dear Diary, 

The return to the scale was a f***ing disappointment. I guess I didn't really expect to lose anything, but I was hoping to. With all of the eating and drinking and desserts I guess I should be happy. I got in a good workout yesterday morning and ate the right stuff.  I had a pretty light day until TLO mentioned we we're gonna have dinner at a food truck spot. Good stuff, unless you're trying to lose weight. I had some fry bread covered in chili. Pretty damned tasty. In fact it was so good that I passed it off after eating about half of it. Good thing I did or today's number would have been worse. Speaking of getting worse, the weekend is here and while that's good for fun times, its my big problem time. In order to make sure I get the weekend off to what can be a good start for me I hit the store and got some chicken broth. Time to kick it old school. Like the old school from a month ago. Back to the shrimp, vegetables and rice. Back to the time I was losing at a pretty good pace. Back to the disciplined eating and exercise. Back to giving a f***. Well, about somethings Diary. You're not included in that. I still don't give a f*** about you. 

May 12, Day 66, your guess is as good as mine

Dear Diary,
Thursday morning. First time in days that I haven't been running... Huh? I know haven't exercised a**hole. I'm not fronting. You didn't let me finish. I was trying to say running around all day and night long. I plan on hitting the gym this morning before checking out and making my way back to the family, the house and the scale. I'm not sure where I am, but I don't get the feeling I've lost anything. But today I get to control the food in front of me. I know the food was served buffet style here, but the sheer amount of it made me do my part to make sure we weren't wasting food. Don't think I went crazy, but that punk a** scale may think different. We'll see in the morning. Peace out f***er. Tell the scale I'm coming back and if he tells me something f***ed up, peace will literally be out. War will be in. And you know I don't fight fair.

May 11, Day 65, still no clue what I weigh

Dear B***h,
It's morning. Sunshines all across my sleepy face. A new day brings reality and we must go our separate ways. What a lovely night we had, yeah, yeah. Nope. F*** you. This trip seems to be all about sabotage on your part you slick bastard. You ripped my pants. Then you find a way to cancel my wake up call today? I'm not sure why you're so vindictive, but I've gotta admit I like the new you. Just redirect your anger elsewhere. Like to the person that decided to make me eat 2 bratwursts for lunch yesterday and then some apple cobbler. At least I had the good sense to limit myself to a few bites of the cobbler and someone took part of the second brat. You brat. Actually you both are brats. You and that muthaf***in scale. Did he call his inbred cousin in San Diego and tell him not to be in my room? This is crazy. Speaking of crazy, I found someone else that hits the scale daily. She's going through withdrawals just like me. A fellow traveler. But she's skinny. Not sure if she has her Dark Fat Passenger like me. No a**hole. I'm not her Dark Fat Passenger. The DFP is the thing inside me that makes me kill food. I learned all about that on Dexter. Another fine show that you could watch if only I'd let you out of your cage. It puts the book cover on it's skin or else it never watches TV again!!! Well? The choice is yours, but I can't have you walking around fully exposed as my diary. Someone might read you or something stupid like that. And people can't know my innermost thoughts or they might think I'm strange. Anyways you stupid little muthaf***a, I'll tell you more about DFP later, but now he is telling me to get up for breakfast. Don't f*** with me today. Please?!?

May 10, Day 64, no idea what I weigh

Aww s**t diary ,
There is no scale in my room. It'll be interesting to go thru scale withdrawals for a few days. I hope I'm pleasantly surprised. No surprises from you though you silly f***er or I'll split your lip. Speaking of split stuff.... I'm sitting in our big kickoff meeting for our national sales conference and I realize that there is a huge split in my pants. Now I'm no stranger to tearing my clothes. I've ripped a few pairs of pants before. But this wasn't my fault I swear. My pants are too big right now. This had to be the cleaners. This was the kinda surprise I didn't want. I'm gonna go back and rip those cleaners in half. What are you laughing at? Oh my f***ing goodness. You did this to me. You f***ing a** hole. You made me show mine to 500 people.

May 9, Day 63, 246.4 lbs, 36% bf

Dear Diary,
What is it about the weekend that makes me so happy to go to work on a Monday morning? No, seriously. Can you tell me? I love the weekends. I start looking forward to the next weekend on Sunday nights. It's kinda like Christmas. I start the countdown to the next one on December 26. But when it comes to eating right, the weekend is a muthaf***a and work seems to be my only escape. I try to surround myself with good foods at home, but the problem is that not everything there is good. I have limited will power and it wears thin at night. I still haven't even mentioned all of the activities that are all about grub.  Dinners, parties, brunch. None of that crap at work. Just me and the road. Me and a bean burrito. Me and the... Ah s**t. I'm going to a sales conference today. Dinners, parties, brunch, snacks. I'm so screwed. I have to find time to work out. Even if I do the workouts that Michael Strahan does in some stupid commercial. I hate that gap toothed muthaf***a as much as I hate you. Speaking of muthaf***as and people that hate you, how's your dad? I mean he is literally a mother f***er. How is your dad the kama sutra and you are a piece of s**t?
PS. I hope they have a scale in my room or I could have some problems when I return. I need my feedback. 
PSS. No I didn't say feed pack you fat muthaf***a. Clean out your ears. 
PSSS. Can you hear me now?

May 8, Day 62, 247 lbs, 35.5% bf

Dear Diary,
It's been a tough couple of days. Between funerals and birthday parties, fried chicken and birthday cake, I've put on a couple of lbs. I haven't worked out since Thursday.  But I'm not worried. Still have the right mindset and I'm committed, so I'm good. But I'm not too good to remember what got me here. Discipline and a plan. I need to get back to that. I've already said no weakends off. Huh? I know I spelled it wrong. You dumb f***.  Did it on purpose. Are you not creative at all? What did you get your mom for Mother's Day?A jar of perfume and a macaroni jewelry box. Tell me you're kidding!?! What are you, 4? That's weak. Oh yeah, back to me. Weekends. Happy a**hole? That's when I get weak. But I need that to end. Hence the name. Now it's time to turn it up. Not sure how yet, but since I'm down to my final episode of the Sons of Anarchy, it'll probably involve less time on the bike. Maybe. Maybe not. Peace out b***h. Tell your mom I said hello and I wish she never had you!   

May 7, Day 61, 245.6 lbs, 35% bf

Dearest Muthf***in' Diary,
Can you please explain what the f*** I did that was so wrong that the scale wouldn't go down? Actually I can explain it. I almost had a breakdown last night. I drank some pepsi. The alcoholic would have told me that I'd have to give up my 60 day sodar card. He WOULD have told me had he answered the call I made to him in my time of need. He was nowhere to be found though I didn't try too hard. Maybe I need a sponsor to lean on when I get weak. It's usually the EBG, but I didn't ride last night cause I had some work to do. Then I started eating food all  late. Just like I did when I wasn't trying to do better.  I thought it was going down. Not sure why I stopped. Could have been the will power. Could have just been good sense. Might have been me washing the dishes. My hands were otherwise occupied. That could also be the reason I didn't slap the s**t out of you. Not that you did anything to deserve it. At least not this time.  But f*** you anyway. You'll do something to earn it. 
PS. Can you explain why the universal menu at black funerals is Albertson's fried chicken, green beans, potato salad and spaghetti? 
PSS. At my funeral I want steaks. Also I should be buried with a 10 oz. Wagyu ribeye from CUT. Medium.

May 6, Day 60, 245.4 lbs, 38% bf

Dear Diary, 

I was in a store looking for something yesterday and I wandered into the big and tall section. Ok. Fine.  I get it. Calm down buddy. I may be big, but I'm nobodies tall. TLO tells me all the time. I used to claim 5'11" until she kept insisting that I wasn't. I've now adjusted that to 5'10 3/4" in protest. But the point is they don't have a big OR tall section. You gotta be both. We've already established that I'm relatively tall. Huh? Ok. We have not. I'm taller than my relatives. Can we agree on that? Ok fine,  my youngest brother is much taller than me.  You know what though? I'm tall enough to beat his a** and I'll beat yours too. Ok. Fine. He'd beat the s**t out of me, but I'd still murder you. The point of all this is... Actually I don't recall my point because you were being so f***ing contrary for no good reason. Yes you were! Oh yeah, the point was I can't fit the s**t in big and tall anymore. Still can't fit the stuff in the Lilliputian area either. I need to buy some new clothes though, so I'll need to make more progress so I can fit the gear. I also have to be careful because these a**holes have made everything fit super f***ing tight. I hate skinny jeans and the a**holes that reside in them. Actually the a**holes of the a**holes that reside in them are rarely residents of the jeans.  I got that before you could correct me on that you condescendingly smug bastard. But hey, I know that's how you'd prefer to wear your clothes but not me. I'm not stupid. Thats it.  You know what. That's the last time you're gonna insult me and get away with it. Ok fine. I guess that isn't true. D**khead. 

PS. Tell the scale I ate chicken and fish yesterday, and rode for 34 miles with the EBG. The next time I do right and he says I've gained weight I'm coming back with cleats and I'm gonna get all up in his mechanical a**.

PSS. This is not fine. Ok!?!?

May 5, Day 59, 244.8 lbs, 38.5% bf

Dear Diary,
Today I officially made it more than 20 total lbs. lost. I'm not celebrating, bragging or boasting. I'm just saying.  Every time I brag about something, it seems to swing back the other way, so I'm just gonna be real low key this time around. But Diary I have a question for you. If you ate frozen yogurt for lunch yesterday and it gave you mad gas, would you double down and eat a bean burrito after that? No. I didn't think so. You're not half the man I am. Both figuratively and literally. It was a tough afternoon trying not to fart all over the place. Sometimes I was successful. Lets just say that I tried to avoid situations where I could be pinpointed as the one that dropped the bomb. I ended up in a couple of crappy situations, literally, but I have to feel lucky that my s**t don't stink. HAHAHA. I could imagine TLO choking on her donut reading this. As a matter of fact, she rolled up last night with a box of krispy kremes in her car last night. I was about to get mad thinking the sabotage was in full effect. Alas, she left them in the car and I forgot about them until this very moment. Would you have broken into her car and stole one Diary? No? What the f*** would you do about anything?  I would have done it in a heartbeat. Then I'd have blamed you. You're such a f***in b***h.

May 4, Day 58, 246.2 lbs, 36.5% bf

Dear Diary, 
I was feeling chubby last night. Looked in the mirror and saw the face and thought it didn't look too skinny. Kinda like what I feel when I look at your fat a**. Try mixing in some word salad with vinaigrette from time to time f***face. But back to my non skinny face. It's not a bad thing. I've forgotten how big the face was. Can't picture it. I'm now used to looking at this still chubby face and I'm not satisfied. Kinda like your parents had to be with you. I'm sure they had big dreams for you. Maybe to be a dictionary or even a porno mag, but a diary? They had to be so disappointed. But I'm not. Not complacent either. I'm still working to get where I want to be. Still working my plan. Even though the first 30 days are up I'm still doing my best to eat right. Exercise is the rule and not the exception. I ate right and avoided junk food yesterday. I rode another 20 miles on the bike with the EBG last night. I feel like I'm on the right track. And if I keep this up I'll have to buy a new belt soon. I only have one hole left on this one. I could probably reach the last one, but my pants are already bunching up at the top as it is. I'll just use that old belt to beat the s**t out of you. Kinda like my old stepfather used to do to me. A**hole. No Diary. Not you. Him. Actually, you too. 

May 3, Day 57, 248 lbs

Dear Diary,
Yesterday I took to the road to visit some friends that experienced a recent loss. Had a good time talking  s**t, being abused by their kids and watching the first half of the Lakers game. I never have a good time hanging out with you. So much guilt involved. Not from me! I'm talking about you a**hole. I have nothing to feel guilty about. Well maybe... Nope. Not even the two cupcakes I ate. I was there comforting loved ones. Don't you think comforters need comfort food? Wow. Didn't think you'd go for that. Thanks. The first was delicious and the taste of the sugar demanded that I take another. Sad to say that I obliged. But the sadness didn't last for long, because right before the Laker game came on I spotted an exercise bike in the corner and got to work. The EBG was rolling. Went 15 miles in a little more than an hour in my shirt and slacks in the middle of my buddies living room. If thats not dedication, I don't know what is. I felt like I was in the old game paperboy with all of the distractions coming at  me. Screaming kids and everything. People coming in and wondering who is this a**hole in a suit, riding a bike. But I rode. Then I hopped in the car and rode off into the sunset. Actually it was already dark, but I needed a better ending. More dramatic. No, I didn't ask for your ideas on how to end it, you f***ing Drama Queen. Not everything is about you. Try thinking about others sometimes. You were? You were trying to help me? You can help me by shutting the f*** up. Anyways, f*** you diary. You could never be as good a friend as I. Believe me, if you could I'd have known by now. Oh are you f***ing serious? Well fine. Why don't you and the scale just go to the movies without me. See if I care. He's stupid anyway.
PS. My buddies wife asked why we didn't greet each other with a hug. I gave a long detailed explanation of the proper man hug, which demands that there is never a full embrace and that certain body parts shall not come into contact with each other, including cheeks and penises. The huggers should always be offset to avoid direct eye contact. It should also take no more than 5 seconds from the initial clasping of the hands, to the speedy push away from the pseudo embrace.
PSS. I also didn't hug him in his time of emotional need, because that would be gay. Not that theres anything wrong with that, but I wanted to give him a sense of normalcy. So I treated him like s**t as usual.
PSSS. Kinda like I treat you a** munch.

May 2, Day 56, 247.2 lbs, 31.5% bf

Dear Diary,
So I came all ready to apologize for the name calling and take responsibility for a wild weekend of food debauchery and rising weight totals. Not gonna happen. Not because that stuff didn't happen, because it did. TLO decided to grill a little something yesterday. I decided to eat a lot of something yesterday. A bunch of spaghetti. Some banana pudding. Shut the f*** up! It's fruit a**hole. F*** whatever you're thinking about it, the scale didn't think much of it, as it registered a slight drop in weight. It even said the body fat dropped to 31.5%, which is an obvious mistake.  But I'll take it. I also took the night off from riding. Not purposely. I fell asleep. Now I know I can't continue to do that s**t and have the same outcome. So I'll be back on the grind shortly. Please do me a favor and get the f*** off my back. I have nothing to apologize for. B***h. 

May 1, Day 55, 247.4 lbs, 38% bf

Dear Diary, 
You muthaf***as are tripping. I said go f*** yourselves. Not me. I know I said felt some pride, but damn. Pride comes before a fall, not an increase a**holes. I was cool yesterday. Didn't go crazy on the food. TLO said I was grazing. I called it exercising my metabolism. I even exercised some self restraint after tasting the best cheesecake ever. Didn't even get another piece. Then I exercised in the garage even though TLO had beat me there and turned on the Lifetime Channel. So many women scorned. Well the women aren't the only ones scorned this morning. You dips**ts have pissed me off. I'm pretty sure its not the last time either. You've got me cursing you out on a Sunday. This is your fault.   Now I'm gonna pray and meditate about greater things. I suggest you figure out a way to make this right, cause unlike The Big Guy, I don't forget or forgive.