Dear Diary,
This is not bragging or boasting on my part, simply a statement of fact. As of this morning I have lost just a little more than 40 lbs. Huh? No I don't know where they are, nor do I care. I won't be looking for them anytime soon. I did it the old fashioned way too. I ate food, exercised and talked mad s**t. Two out of three of those sound like what I've done daily for close to 35 years, but not to the degree that I am dedicated to doing them now. I love food. I just try to make sure I'm eating well more often than not. So the chili dogs I threw down yesterday have become a rare delight. That was not a concern before. Exercise hadn't really been a factor in my life. Even when I was young I just played. Never really with a goal in mind. What I do now, I do with purpose. I just got back from another walk/jog. This time I went for 7 miles and jogged the first mile. Felt good. I'm sure I could have went for a few more miles, but between that and my 25 miles on the bike yesterday I think I did enough for the moment. Oh, you disagree. Well, then you do. Feel free to do whatever you want, including f***ing yourself. But don't get mad when I get all Raw on your a** and knock you over the head until you are Delirious and looking around for a Jello pudding pop. I guess that brings us to the talking mad s**t part. I'd say that the anger part of the mad s**t is decreasing as I decrease in size, but I plan to make up for it with quantity as the quality drops. Filth, flarn, filth, flarn, filth.
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