April 30, Day 54, 245.8 lbs, 37% bf

Dear Diary,
I gotta say that I'm starting to feel a slight sense of pride. Not to the point where I mess anything up, but to where I can keep this thing going to reach my ultimate goal. I was good yesterday. Banana and yogurt for breakfast yesterday. Chicken club sandwich and salad for lunch yesterday. We were eating at Johnny Rockets and nobody ordered fries. My changes might be rubbing off on people. Kinda like that time you tried to paint your cover. I mean seriously. Who tries to look more manly by hiding flowers with pink f***ing paint? My thumbs were pink for a week. Sometimes I wonder about you. But I'm not wondering about me or my resolve this morning. Last night I might have questioned myself when I ate a cupcake and fell asleep with the baby. It almost seemed like it was gonna be one of those weekend f*** ups. I got up and put the kid in the bed. I laid around a little more and then hit the bike. Two hours. Twenty seven miles. My legs killed me when I walked up the stairs. They hurt even worse when I had to hit them again to get the pacifier for Mouse. But its all worth it and lets me know I'm doing something right. I'm just shy of 20 lbs lost, putting me about a third of the way to where I want to be.

So diary, go f*** yourself in the most positive way I can possibly mean it. Go get yourself some paint and cover that a**hole I drew on your back cover. Come on, act like you have some pride.
PS. Tell the scale to go f*** himself too.

April 29, Day 53, 247.4 lbs, 38% bf

Querido Diario, 
Am I right to assume that the sign of great Mexican food is that it was as stank coming out as it was good going in? If so what I had yesterday was the bomb. Literally explosive. Hijo de la puta madre!  Kinda like the time I put that M80 inside your back cover. Aye aye aye! You were s**tting confetti for a week. Pinche cabron.  Don't be mad. It was funny. What wasn't funny was the smell. I usually only say excuse me for the sound of a fart. And that's only when I can be  pinpointed as the farter. Well last nights initial fart in the kitchen almost killed my children. Monica had to check the baby's diaper it was so bad. It was so bad that the smell lingered for two hours making TLO scream when she walked in the door. It was that bad. But it wasn't bad enough for me to say excuse me. It was truly the SBD. Silent, but deadly. Qué chingados! It wasn't all bad though. The best thing other than the taste of the food was that I didn't eat too much. It was just the right portion to burn off before the day was over. To do that I purchased season 3 of Sons of Anarchy and got to it. It was pretty late, so I only rode for an hour. Slept for four. Not enough time to get the body the rest it needs. So in addition to being vigilant this weekend, I'll get some rest. And probably keep farting. Adios muthaf***a!

April 28, Day 52, 247.2 lbs, 38.5% bf

Dear Diary, 
Whats poppin' Pimp Juice? Me? I've got a Dilemma. I was riding with the EBG. Yup, went 25 miles. The point is that I was watching Sons of Anarchy and reached the end of season 2 and thus the end of Netflix's current supply of episodes, but thanks for being interested in my progress. Seems like I got over the hump on hump day. I'm down for the 2nd day in a row. Lost a little more than 18 lbs so far. Still can't explain the body fat other than saying the scales a little loopy. Anyway, I'm considering purchasing the 3rd season of SOA because I can't wait for Netflix to eventually add it. The way I figure, it has been essential to my weight loss and since I've avoided fast food, I can allocate the money saved to pay for the shows. Its a no brainer for me. I'm gonna do it.  Huh? Are you not following me? It's English. Would you prefer that I use my Country Grammar? Ok. Uh. It's getting hot in hurrr. That's all I got. Keep complaining. I'll stomp you out with my Air Force One's. I'll use two pairs. Because I hate you. I really do, but  I'm trying to be better. Hey, I got a friend with a pole in the basement. You can stick it up your a**.  Just kidding. Unless you gonna do it? 

April 27, Day 51, 248.0 lbs, 35.5% bf

Aww s**t diary,
It went down last night. My weight yes. Down to 248. No thanks to you and the scale. I even got a compliment. No lie. Said I was looking slimmer. What you lookin' at? You all a bunch of f***in' a**holes. Just be happy for me and my slightly better habits. I ate some Chipotle and some organic stuff TLO made last night. Also re-upped on the fruit. Still need more trail mix.  Also yes, some crap at the house went down too. My daughter was accused of cursing at her friend. Aye, pobrecito. I have absolutely no idea where she'd get that s**t from. No f***ing clue whatsoever. The bad part was that she lied to me. I can get over the cursing. Hell, I've been cursing since the 3rd grade. I've mastered it at this point. So f*** you Brian. But my heart was broken to think that my little girl lied to me. Me of all people. Anyways, all of this has me rethinking my approach to talking to you, but it shouldn't as this is just a conversation between you and I. Right? Right. You're not lying to me, are you? Cause I'll beat the s**t out of you. And that's the truth Ruth.
PS. Didn't know I knew your real name huh? Take that.
PSS. I thought I told you before. Never to f*** me.
PSSS. I always tell the truth. Even when I lie.

April 26, Day 50, 250.0 lbs, 34% bf

Dear Diary, 
This morning as I sit here with a lack of inspiration, it is not due to a sense of desperation. 
When I think of my consternation, it causes a mild case of perspiration. 
Because of the application of a pseudo starvation, which is somewhat like vegetation, I have changed the equation that is me. 
Admiration of Sons of Anarchy. 
Formation of the Sons of Apathy EBG. 
Celebrations have not yet been earned. 
Relations with fast food  have been burned. 
Vacations have been taken. 
Heart agitation due to bacon. 
Cohabitation with donuts and Sprite and TLO. 
Conversations with alcoholics. 
Tintinnabulation, AA stories and happy time frolic. 
Preparation leading to a better me. 
Contemplation of what I eat, allows for a smaller seat, in which I get to place my somewhat smaller a**. 
Cultivation of my diet, means I no longer start a riot, when I can't get to a cookie in training class. 
Coronation of a king on his throne
Allegations that I write this from my toilet. 
Alliterations of my own. 
Recommendations that I take my diary and boil it. 
No more sensations of a scratch to itch. 
Realization that dear Diary, you're a f***in b***h, and I don't give a f*** what you think. 
Ovations for me, not for you, actually thats not really true, when I think of all the s**t you've taken from me (like sugar). 
Appreciation should be the word, though it is somewhat absurd to think I'm grateful to you, but I am. 
My f***ed up imagination. 

April 25, Day 49, 250.4 lbs, 36% bf

Dear Diary, 
I just had a friend congratulate me on breaking 250. I told him thanks and told him he could tell me again in a few days since I'm just hanging around here. Up and down, up and down. Huh? Ok. And up. Good one Diary.  What the f*** is up with the yoyo? Don't try to play me out. I can do that on my own. In many ways I have. Cupcakes. Cake cakes.  Celebrated yesterday with family and friends. I had a cupcake in my hand to put away when I was cleaning up. TLO asked how many I had. I put it away as I had planned and then answered her like I was talking to you. Two and a half b***h! She said who you calling a b***h!?! She then screamed  U. N. I. T. Y. and punched me in the nose.   I got me a down a** girl on my team. She beat my a** down.  Nope. Names not Bonnie or Clyde. Why do you ask? Ahh. Speaking of ice cubes, she gave me some to get the swelling down in my snot locker area. She had told me earlier in the day that my nose was gonna spread. I had no clue she was speaking prophetically. To get the swelling down in the belly I rode out with the IBWC, uh, I mean the EBG. Twenty four miles. The bike is cool and all, but I have to do something to kick this crap into gear and move out of this space. I was stuck at 259 for a few days and once I got over the hump I was good. Haven't gotten over this hump yet. Up and down. Up and down. In and out. In and out. Oops. Shouldn't be thinking about burgers. Huh? You were thinking something else. Diary, you're a nasty muthaf***a. 

April 24, Day 48, 249.4 lbs, 36.1% bf

Dearest Diary,
Today is a special day for me and others that believe as I do. So by extension, and I'm pretty sure I can handle this, its gonna be a special day for you too. We celebrate the resurrection that saved us from our sins and gave us eternal life. And while I know I'm covered Diary, I can't be so sure about you and the scale. I mean how can I forgive it when it says my body fat went up again. At this rate I'll be 100% body fat by the summer. Somethings wrong here. But we'll save any judgements on you losers wonderful beings for a later date. Already got up for sunrise service. Back home and smelling the wonderful meal that TLO has prepared. I hope I can get forgiveness for what I'm gonna do to that cake she made. I'll be as good as possible. To get some preemptive exercise in, I'm gonna hit the bike before its time to go back to church.  Bless you. Lord knows you'll need it tomorrow.
PS. Uh, ixna on the reemptivepa