Dear Diary,
My 240 lb virginity appears to be very short lived. I just got f***ed! Now tell me who did this to me before I shoot you again!?! It'll be Rihanna's man down in this muthaf***a. Nah, nah, nah! There is no f***ing way I consumed nearly 7,000 calories without working any off. I had a couple breadsticks at lunch yesterday to go with the chicken, brisket and salad. Not a big deal. Had some wontons for dinner. Very light. Then we went to a party. Where? I was on a boat muthaf***a. Don't you ever forget! I won't. I almost threw up on my nautical themed pashmina afghan. I had a couple tacos. Big f***ing deal. Right? Shut the f*** up. If I want your opinion I'll yank it out of that new bullet hole you have. Now shut your mouth b***h! Stop getting that ink all over the place. If you don't die shortly, you're gonna have a mess to clean up. But oh yeah... Some taquitos, less than half a cupcake and one drink. Pretty sure the calorie count in vodka is low. And to top it all off, a 1:30 am slice of pizza. I was warned not to eat it by TLO and my BGF, but I did it anyway. All that and no workout. Hmmm... I don't think you lose your virginity when you f*** yourself. So I guess I'm good! You on the other hand, have a bullet inside you. In hindsight, that was wrong of me. Sorry about that!
PS. I'm sure you'll deserve it soon.
PSS. BGF is best gay friend. I saw you looking all puzzled and s**t. Speaking of puzzles, I'm looking for Sudoku. Don't be mad.
Showing posts with label Archer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Archer. Show all posts
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
March 28, Day 21, 256.2 lbs
Dear Diary and Scale,
Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead (Philippians 3:13). That's just part of the good word I got yesterday at church. The meaning and the context is much deeper than what I'm gonna to use it for, but nonetheless it's appropriate. Times a' changin' and so am I. No more chubby, no more stagnation or being subdued. No more excuses. I can't do anything about the past. Doesn't mean to ignore it and it's lessons though. I need them if I'm gonna succeed in the future. Learning my lesson while moving towards my goals will provide me the momentum needed to finish strong. Not to mention once I get this big body moving I can also count on inertia for a few moments. So, so far I've learned that salt can cause problems. Sugar causes problems. Fried food causes problems. Soda causes problems. Cakes can be nice for celebrations and they cause problems. Red meat...well, have you ever seen a cow hurt anyone? But OK. Red meat can cause problems. But all of those things cause problems if they are abused. Abuse itself is a problem. I've learned that I can live without all of those things for some period of time, but what I really need to do is to learn to live with them. That is my pursuit. Losing weight too. Maybe losing weight first. Then pursuing mediation with the things that are trying to kill me. OK. How about both? I can do both. After pursuing, I start producing, then I start prevailing. I win (weight loses). Winning, duh? Cause all I do is win, win, win no matter what. Got donuts on my mind and I can never get enough... Ahhh donuts. Crap. PS. You guys caught another Sunday recap pass, Diary and Scale, but don't think for a minute that once this church wears off that we don't have beef. Ahhh beef.
PSS. Thanks to my Pastor for the inspirational message. I'm sure he was talking to everybody, but I took it as my own.
PSSS. I was gonna say something if the scale went up, but luckily... Screw that. No luck involved. It should have went down. I expect it to continue to drop. No more yo-yo at this spot.
PSSST. I may have found a temporary trail mix substitute while rummaging the cabinets to find food for the kids. Don't worry they'll eat soon. The lovely one is returning from Vegas today.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
March 27, Day 20, 257.2 lbs
Dear Diary,
Maybe I made a mistake. Yesterday I told your punk a** that I understood the slight increase in the numbers on the scale. F***. I even took some responsibility. That didn't mean that it would be acceptable for it to happen again you f***ing douche bag. Yesterday the lovely one left me. Stop cheering you a**hole. She went to Vegas to relax with the ladies. A well deserved break. When I was taking her to the airport, she entered my fly a** minivan (yeah I drive a minivan and its not because I need the room, but the room is a very nice benefit) and inspected my traveling foods. Since I've not been able to find a decent f***ing bag of trail mix to save my life, I've taken to rolling around with some reduced fat wheat thins and some sunflower seeds. She saw the seeds and started shaking her head. She was about to start throwing some salt in my game. Literally. She was talking about the salt content in that bag, which I have to admit was pretty high. Hell, the bag was covered in the s**t. No I didn't say covered in s**t. That would be your cover. And diary again, I apologize for that night. Why would you place yourself so close to the toilet anyway? So after I dropped the wife off the thought occurred to me and I looked up salt and water retention. I wasn't shocked to find what I found. Somewhere along the line I knew this but never really put it together. Salt, sodium or whatever you want to call it makes the body retain water. In some cases its a good thing when it helps prevent dehydration, like in sports drinks. But when you're trying to lose weight while consuming lots of salt, especially while drinking lots of water, it can make things worse. So with that I mind, I set off to try to free myself of the salt that just a few days ago I was not willing to do. But first... I needed to finish my seeds. Then I made my shrimp and wonton soup for lunch. For good effect I went to my three core seasonings. Garlic Salt, Seasoning Salt, and Black Pepper. Yea I know. F*** you. By time I made it to dinner I just had a chicken sandwich and some fruit. Not much salt in that I hoped. Then I hopped on the scale this lovely morning only to find that son of a b***h penalized me for what I had done. It wasn't much but it was enough to make me stomp him where I imagined his nuts would be. Then I ground my foot into the spot and imagined I was a fat Bruce Lee. I guess I could have been Jim Kelly, (No, not the football player you dips**t), but I've been eating a lot of stir fry and rice lately, so imagine that I just told you to go f*** yourself in Chinese. No Diary, I don't give a damn which dialect you choose. Where was I, ah stir fry and rice. F***, maybe I need to cut down on some of the rice too. So faced with increasing weight, I'm gonna go all Black Samurai on my own a** and cut some salt and more carbs out of my life. Either that or mix in some exercise.
Hold on Diary. That may have been a little drastic. I'm gonna have to reconsider that again. One thing I will not reconsider is my daily visit to the scale. It is fun, even if I don't like what he's telling me. Plus I need it to keep me honest and on the right path. So continue to f*** yourself for now, while I consider going on a Rampage!!!!!
PS. Also couldn't do Jim Kelly because I'm going bald. My afro would be pretty weak. It would look a lot less like a mix between Angela Davis and Sweet Lou Dunbar and more like a flat tire.
PSS. Last night I had like three spoons of ice cream since we're being honest here. The lush might think I fell of the wagon, but I just got off for a moment when the wagon stopped in front of my freezer. Then I hopped back on and moved that chuck wagon towards a pear. I wish that damned dog would stop chasing me.
PSSS. When the lovely one left she didn't even tell me what to fix the kids for dinner. I'll feed them something as soon as I figure it out I swear. Gotta go for now. Their screams of hunger are deafening.
Maybe I made a mistake. Yesterday I told your punk a** that I understood the slight increase in the numbers on the scale. F***. I even took some responsibility. That didn't mean that it would be acceptable for it to happen again you f***ing douche bag. Yesterday the lovely one left me. Stop cheering you a**hole. She went to Vegas to relax with the ladies. A well deserved break. When I was taking her to the airport, she entered my fly a** minivan (yeah I drive a minivan and its not because I need the room, but the room is a very nice benefit) and inspected my traveling foods. Since I've not been able to find a decent f***ing bag of trail mix to save my life, I've taken to rolling around with some reduced fat wheat thins and some sunflower seeds. She saw the seeds and started shaking her head. She was about to start throwing some salt in my game. Literally. She was talking about the salt content in that bag, which I have to admit was pretty high. Hell, the bag was covered in the s**t. No I didn't say covered in s**t. That would be your cover. And diary again, I apologize for that night. Why would you place yourself so close to the toilet anyway? So after I dropped the wife off the thought occurred to me and I looked up salt and water retention. I wasn't shocked to find what I found. Somewhere along the line I knew this but never really put it together. Salt, sodium or whatever you want to call it makes the body retain water. In some cases its a good thing when it helps prevent dehydration, like in sports drinks. But when you're trying to lose weight while consuming lots of salt, especially while drinking lots of water, it can make things worse. So with that I mind, I set off to try to free myself of the salt that just a few days ago I was not willing to do. But first... I needed to finish my seeds. Then I made my shrimp and wonton soup for lunch. For good effect I went to my three core seasonings. Garlic Salt, Seasoning Salt, and Black Pepper. Yea I know. F*** you. By time I made it to dinner I just had a chicken sandwich and some fruit. Not much salt in that I hoped. Then I hopped on the scale this lovely morning only to find that son of a b***h penalized me for what I had done. It wasn't much but it was enough to make me stomp him where I imagined his nuts would be. Then I ground my foot into the spot and imagined I was a fat Bruce Lee. I guess I could have been Jim Kelly, (No, not the football player you dips**t), but I've been eating a lot of stir fry and rice lately, so imagine that I just told you to go f*** yourself in Chinese. No Diary, I don't give a damn which dialect you choose. Where was I, ah stir fry and rice. F***, maybe I need to cut down on some of the rice too. So faced with increasing weight, I'm gonna go all Black Samurai on my own a** and cut some salt and more carbs out of my life. Either that or mix in some exercise.
Hold on Diary. That may have been a little drastic. I'm gonna have to reconsider that again. One thing I will not reconsider is my daily visit to the scale. It is fun, even if I don't like what he's telling me. Plus I need it to keep me honest and on the right path. So continue to f*** yourself for now, while I consider going on a Rampage!!!!!
PS. Also couldn't do Jim Kelly because I'm going bald. My afro would be pretty weak. It would look a lot less like a mix between Angela Davis and Sweet Lou Dunbar and more like a flat tire.
PSS. Last night I had like three spoons of ice cream since we're being honest here. The lush might think I fell of the wagon, but I just got off for a moment when the wagon stopped in front of my freezer. Then I hopped back on and moved that chuck wagon towards a pear. I wish that damned dog would stop chasing me.
PSSS. When the lovely one left she didn't even tell me what to fix the kids for dinner. I'll feed them something as soon as I figure it out I swear. Gotta go for now. Their screams of hunger are deafening.
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