Why, it’s another new blog. So here it is, this is where I’ll be posting all my travels and whatnot from now on.
So today is day four of my forty-three day diet. It’s probably only going to be about a 37 day diet because I’m out this beeatch in that many days. But here’s hoping I lose that 28 pounds I’m looking to give away free to a home. It doesn’t even have to be a good home. Or a mediocre home. Just a home. Problem with this diet, aside from the raging hunger and possible murdering, is the fact I pee non-stop. Mainly because all I can drink it tea and water, two culprits well-known to me to cause major peeage. In fact, I was up every hour and a half last night emptying my bladder. Something I’m certain you’re happy to know. And something I’m happy to share.
So, yesterday, day three, I took a good long hard look at myself and my eating habits. Then I cussed out my parents for passing off french fries as a vegetable. Then I cussed myself out for having no GD will power. I mean, LOOK AT ME! I cannot stand the way I look, yet I do nothing about it. I work out, and I can feel that muscle in my abs and arms and legs, but cannot see them because I love me some fast food. Because of all that, I feel the need to go to the extreme. I either work out more than I should, or not work out at all. Right now, I’m in that “more than I should” phase, as evidenced by the fact I can barely walk because my muscles are screaming for mercy. I either eat too damn much, especially if I’m pissed off, or I don’t eat anything at all. Yesterday, all I did was watch the clock, waiting for it to be time to eat again. Hopefully, those feelings will pass. Hopefully I can lose that 28 pounds (I still have more to lose, but my goal in all this is 28 pounds; I can worry about the rest when I’m in Australia and no longer dependent on a car) and I won’t feel like a land whale. Even if I don’t look like one, I still feel like one. And hopefully I get through this without resorting to violence. It might be difficult, though, since I work for stupidheads.
So, I’ll be keeping you all updated. Only because I know I will blow off my diet and exercise program if I don’t. And I will need Joders to keep me in line because I’m looking to do this in 2013, so obviously I will need to get into shape. And round isn’t the shape I’m looking for. This is what I want to look like, even if I never will
Hello, how have you loverly people been? First off, I would like to share the most active search phrases that bring people to this blog with like 4 posts on it: “Who’s awesome, your awesome”, “Joseph Fiennes overacts”, and “Prince Harry’s bulge”. I would like to blast the first phrase because it is ‘you’re’ not ‘your’, okay. Basic little shit like that bothers the hell out of me. But thank you for thinking I am awesome, because I am. The second search phrase is spot on and whichever genius types that into Google search or Bing (ha, no one uses Bing except my punk ass self at work because the US government must have a contract with Microsoft or something since MSN is always the homepage and whenever I try to change it, the stupid computer loses my profile and I have to start all over again. With Bing. Bloody bastards). Joseph Fiennes (remember, about whom we were speaking) does overact. It’s unbearable. And he has no lips. Why does he not have any lips?! And finally, the third search phrase. Miss Sharon World is obviously the one who continues to type such a phrase into the Google search bar. Hate to break it to her,but that bulge is all mine. By the by, this is the first image to come up when you type in “Prince Harry’s bulge”
For those of you keeping track, I have just a little over 81 days and seven hours until my move to Australia. And starting Friday, 17 June, I start my 40 day diet to supplement my 20 mile weekly walks and help me get back down to my svelte, gorgeous self (’cause that certainly ain’t me now). I imagine on day three of said diet, this will be me:
I say day three because on day one and two, I get to eat whatever my little heart desires. And I plan on eating whatever my little heart desires until my little heart and oversized tummy scream for mercy. Day three and beyond is going to be tough. I delightfully refer to this diet as my “murder diet”, because I have a feeling somewhere around the halfway point of no good food (and no alcohol), I will be murdering some people. Keep an eye out for me on the 6 o’clock news, y’all!
In all seriousness, I am pretty excited. I’ve looked at decade old pictures and am amazed at just how badly I’ve let myself go. I like to blame the hell that is work and Western Washington, but it’s really all my fault. And I’m pretty determined to get myself back on track. Even if it means killing a few people during hunger blackouts along the way.
Walking twenty miles a week really helps. I don’t have that time to sit at home and get bored, which leads me to eat delicious food and drink delicious drinks. My social life is probably going to start to suffer, but I’ll get over it, crying softly in my bed as I dream of delicious cookies and cake and ice cream and hamburgers.
Anyway, Australia is 81 days away!!! I’m so eager to get going; you can’t even imagine. I’ll be able to do this every day!
Now, thinking about the hot Aussie menfolk has brought me to this thought. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t hear how asshole-ish Aussie menfolk are to their wimmenfolk. If that’s true, some Aussie menfolk might get punched in the froat. I mean, as long as I get mine, there might be no froat punching, but if some manfolk thinks he can treat anyone like the crap on the bottom of his shoe, there will be blood.
So I forgot exactly where I was going with this because I did another check of search terms that happen to lead people here, and there’s one interesting one, waaaaaay down at the bottom, and it really just kinda sidetracked me. What is that, you ask? Well, it’s “bulge police”. Who the f-bomb is typing in “bulge police”? Maybe they mean “Bulgarian police”. Or “Bluth Police” (maybe they’re an ‘Arrested Development’ fan and they wanna see Michael Bluth in uniform?). So I decide to do some research, as a good internet user, and search for “bulge police”. Just so I can see exactly what this person might have been looking for. And this is what comes up:
So, there you have it. That’s all you’re gonna get out of this post. A cavalcade of bulge pics and nonsensical utterings. Now, if i disappear, you all know what has happened. Don’t forget to send bail money.