June 3, Day 88, 242.4 lbs, 38% bf

Dear Diary,
I know you don't smoke weed, I know this; but I'm gonna get you high today, 'cause it's Friday; you ain't got no job... and you ain't got s**t to do. And while you're getting high I'm gonna try to keep getting low. I'm continuing my slow decline towards my goal. Huh? Hold on. You can get that weed later. I thought you never smoked. Why are you so excited? You ain't got to lie Diary. You ain't got to lie.  I know it's making you happy, but stop your premature celebrating. Who are you, the Miami Heat? I was watching that game last night and turned it off to get ready to workout with the Heat jumping to a 15 point lead with about 6 minutes to go. The rout and celebration were on. And it was too soon. So I've learned my lesson. No celebrating until the time is right. Got it? No? Still hung up on the cigaweed? Well I don't have any. That s**ts illegal. I'll give you a dollar. Go get your own from the ice cream truck.  What? It's not enough? Make it enough. B***h. All this complaining has you sounding like your damn momma. But don't get mad, you know I loooove your momma. 
PS. I know its your day off, but you're fired.