The TV show, “The First 48” details the first two days of incarceration. It is gritty, mean, ugly, and smells of rotten eggs on cooked spinach leaves. That is exactly what the first two days of Paleo have been like. Wait… Maybe it would be more like Paleo if it detailed the last 48 hours when someone takes the (non-carb) lethal injection into their veins and dies a miserable death. OR just maybe I am on a Paleo high that has me as intoxicated as a guy in Colorado that besides any medicinal stuff, also just had two buck chuck come to town. Speaking of the “medicinal” stuff, my new Paleo app says that catnip is Paleo friendly. Seriously. Catnip. Besides the obvious question of what lucky intern got to test that, the only question left is: How bad do I want to win that fish oil.
I woke up 48 hours ago ready to take on the Paleo Challenge. I had no idea what I was allowed to eat but I guessed an egg was okay so I headed to IHOP for all you can eat pancakes. You are allowed black coffee on Paleo so I ordered a tall glass of milk. After I was 47 pancakes and 8 glasses of milk in, I remembered that not only was this not Paleo friendly, I am allergic to milk. As my chest got tight and breathing labored, I realized that maybe my wife was right and I actually do have control issues. Luckily I passed out due to a carb coma/allergic reaction and that was the end of day 1.

Let’s just call Day 1 a miserable Paleo Faileo.

I was determined to make Day 2 a success. For breakfast I had the eggs that eluded me on Day 1 (sans pancakes). So far so good.

For lunch I had a nice healthy salad. After I finished my salad it dawned on me that although my salad was Paleo friendly, the salad dressing may not be. So I did what the cavemen did and checked my app. Nope! Salad dressing in not Paleo friendly. I can put freaking catnip on my lettuce but heaven forbid if I want a little ranch dressing!!!

So again, I did what the caveman always did and drove back to my cave and drank beer (I know I am not allowed alcohol on my Paleo Challenge but I think this is okay because I was drinking Rolling Rock. I mean… How much more Flintstone can I get than a beer that has “rock” in its name?).

Day 2 also equals a Paleo Faileo.

So here I am on Day 3 pacing while asking myself repeatedly, “what would a caveman eat?” The pressure is getting to me and I can’t hear myself think over the squeaking of my kids guinea pigs. Here is A picture of Nibbles and Princess (I think her name is Princess anyway):


Finally… The lightbulb in my caveman noggin turned on:


I ate the cute furry one in the front of the picture (Nibbles I think).

PS: Guinea Pigs don’t actually taste like chicken. However, along with catnip… Are Paleo Friendly!


Let’s play the word association game. Just say the first word that comes to your mind. When I say “beer,” there could be several right answers including: belly, yummy, and giver of life. However, if I say “paleo,” there is only one correct answer: faileo. I’m not going to lie, I know nothing that is actually true about paleo. However, I’ll gladly share everything I do know with all (okay… both) of you:

-Paleo makes you talk funny: You wife. Me chubs. We bed now.
-It also turns you into a caveman (which is why you talk funny).
-You can’t eat anything you don’t catch and skin yourself. So add, “Here kitty-kitty” to that caveman lingo.
-You have exactly zero bowel movements while on the Paleo diet (wait… this one might actually be true).

So I bet you are wondering why when my new Crossfit gym announced that they were doing a “Paleo Challenge,” yours truly just happened to be in the 167th person in line. Couldn’t I have more fun by just having another vasectomy or maybe even a root canal? Yes. In fact it was while I was getting snipped for the 6th time, that I happened to stumble across all the cool things that are awarded to the winner of the paleo challenge. It quickly become a no-brainer to enter and my new life mission to win it. Don’t believe me? Go ahead and take a look and see for yourself. Here are the stakes that I’ll be shedding my blood, sweat, tears, and hopefully even a few LB’s for:

1.Undying fame, respect, braggin’ rights and the envy of your peers.
—Sure… This sounds cool. Really I think the winner has earned this. Heck if I win, I might even tattoo my accomplishments on the calf of my leg. Oh crud… I already did that with my darn #Ironman tattoo! What was I thinking!?!?!?

2.BackCountry CrossFit Sweatshirt
—Hmmm…. It would be nice to use my new svelte body to advertise my box, but I already have a permanent fur sweater so this one is not as appealing.

3. A 1 month Free Unlimited Crossfit Membership
—This one is pretty good but I think if I win the 5 week Paleo challenge, I’d prefer a 1 month unlimited buffet membership.

4.Free Pair of Inov-8 Shoes
—Not exactly sure what kind of shoes these are, but I hope they are tap.

5.Free Fish Oil from SFH
—OMG!!! Why didn’t they just skip that other junk and get straight to this jewel??? So just to get this straight, for the next five weeks I am going to limit carbs, ice cream, dairy, ice cream, candy, candy canes, candy corns, syrup, animals that are injecting each other with steroids, the more savvy animals that are just rubbing “the creme” on each other while eating ice cream, and even my beloved Reese’s Butter Cups. On top of that I am not allowed alcohol (NOOOOO!!!!), will be doing a million burpies (excuse me), and risk losing my part in the never to be made movie that I have trained so hard for, “Wolverine attacks the Hostess plant,” all for #%{*#}! FISH OIL???? Heck yeah!

The Paleo (faileo) Challenge starts this Monday so I need to quickly find a bumper sticker that says “I do IT for fish oil.” They also asked me to send them a “before photo” so I think I’ll send them this one:


Okay, apparently the one time this stupid blog has more than one reader happened to be the time that I risk my life by calling Crossfit a cult. Now they are trying to murder me in the most painful way possible: through exercise. They are on to me I just know it! How do I know? Well when I went to a “class” yesterday I overheard whispers of, “look at that fat furry guy rocking the midriff shirt!” Which you and I both know is code for, “The geezer is trying to share our secret with the world before the leader says it is time… we must kill him.” Before this dumbbell slips and has a real dumbbell “accidentally” impale my groin, I’ll help you make your own decision by listing the characteristics of a cult. We can then see if crossfit matches those characteristics.


—The group displays excessively zealous commitment or obedience to its leader— So crossfit is very sneaky about this. They rotate the leader on a daily basis and it is never announced who the designated leader really is at any given time. In fact, the only way to know who it is, is by paying attention to who is wearing the very discrete shirt that says “coach” on it. Of course, he or she is also the one offering instructions. If you don’t follow those instructions, you get “coached” into submission with things like: “You are actually supposed to bend your knees, not your back, when doing squats!” It’s their subtle way of saying, “submit or risk injury.” —Cult and Crossfit characteristic? Check.—-

—The Cult plays cool, loud songs like “Love removal machine” to “motivate” you. —Cult and Crossfit characteristic? Check.—

—Members are encouraged to spend and inordinate amount of time with the group.— Let’s just say that there are SOoooo many classes! —Cult and Crossfit Characteristic? Check—

—The group is elitist, claiming a special, almost exalted status of itself.— Whoa! This one is scary how much it describes crossfit. Crossfit is elitist to the point where our common language just isn’t good enough, so they invented their own. I’ll give you some of our inside lingo, just so you can also be indoctrinated. I should warn you: even though all of it sounds dirty, none of it really is. So here is this new member’s understanding of it (I think enlightenment doesn’t truly happen until I reach higher levels… ie. I can do 100 burpies).

Box – The specific gym where crossfit is performed. They all have names that remind you of death or pain, like “Death Crossfit,” “Pain Crossfit,” or the very worst of them, the one that makes me cry and whimper like a 41 year old fat out of shape blogger, “Backcountry Crossfit.” Each Box is in secret competition with the Box across the street, and ALL of them are superior to your weak, girly non-crossfit “gym”.

Snatch – This is a G-rated blog so I can’t go into great detail about this one but, again, trust me… it isn’t dirty.

Burpies – Not really sure what these are. All I know is that we do a ton of them. You jump up and down and burpy a lot. It seems to be increased on the mornings following eating Mexican food for dinner.

Paleo – Crossfits equivalent of the kool-aid (with, of course, no sugar added). Don’t know much about it yet… but this is why I happen to be risking my life blogging about crossfit in a blog about weight loss. Stay tuned!

WOD – This is an acronym for, “Prepare to Die Sucka!” It is also something more advanced members feel compelled to post to their facebook daily. I would pretend to be advanced by also doing this, but how could I do that and let my facebook peeps know that I had toast for breakfast? They are about as equally exciting on facebook so I’ll stick to my toast posts because it at least rhymes.
—Anyhoo, having your very own lingo… Cult and Crossfit characteristic? Check.—

Nice people… I mean REALLY nice people – I haven’t officialy found this as a cult characteristic but I can’t help but think of that cult that castrated all of its members while waiting for the Hale-Bopp’s comet. I don’t know about you, but if a grouchy guy told me to get in line to get my nuts cut off, I would at least have to think twice. However, if a smiling nice guy suggested that he has a way to literally cut a couple ounces right off me, I would reply, “That’s great! Where do I sign… and why are you holding a cleaver?”
So even though it might not be an official cult characteristic, isn’t it a little odd that people that work at a gym…err… box, would be so nice. I picture an Arnold Schwartzenegger looking character with a thick mustache insulting my girly muscles… and the men that worked there would be even nastier! However, at least at my crossfit, everyone seems really nice. From the kind people at the desk, to the helpful people wearing the coach shirts, and even the other “members” who are dying right next to you: EVERYONE is extremely nice. I don’t know, but it just seems odd that with what seems like someone’s last breath they would offer a, “good job buddy!” —-Crossfit characteristic? Check. Cult characteristic? Inconclusive.

Well since crossfit and cults don’t share 100% of the same characteristics (and because I have a wife and 4 kids who kind of need me around… the kids anyway), I’ll have to rule this as inconclusive. Now I’ve gotta run… I’ve got a comet to catch!

Shhh… I need you to keep this on the downlow. The only reason that I am almost comfortable sharing what I am about to reveal is because my blog stopped notifying my (two) readers who used to actually enjoy reading this thing (Hi Mom!). However, I know with Al Gore’s invention, complete strangers could stumble upon this thing so I’m going to need you to pinky swear that you won’t say anything. Seriously. If you do, I’ll have to kill you. Okay, not really… but we’ll probably have to paddle each other’s bare behinds while asking for another.
Okay, here goes nothing, I joined a cult. The last time people thought I joined a cult was in 2001 when I announced that after studying it for myself, I was leaving my agnostic views behind and committing my broken life to Jesus. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have shaved my entire head but my ponytail and started hanging out at the airport while passing out flowers. Anyway, this is a real cult. You’ve seen it, you know members, you’ve heard their secret language. I feel like if I was announcing this on a 60 minutes type show, they would have my face shaded and distort my voice for my own protection. So considering this is a blog, I’ll do the next best thing and disguise my writing. Okay… deep breath… here goes: I joined crossfit.
So right now you are thinking one of a couple of things. If you are local and know me, you are thinking, “I knew it! So THAT is why his buttocks look so taut!” On a tangent that I probably should just leave alone as it has nothing to do with me joining my cult (shhhh… on the downlow, remember??), have you ever noticed that the word “taut” can basically only be used to describe buttocks. It’s like “supple” with bosom. I, unfortunately, screwed up and have taut bosom and supple buttocks. Anyhoo, back to me being newly related to John Travolta, most of you are thinking, “You idiot, how could you just join a cult???” Please… give me some credit, I didn’t just sign up… I took advantage of the free trial week first.
On my very first class the head cultmaster (get this, they call him “coach”) introduced me to my new family, “This is Tom, who has the misfortune of taking his very first class during Hero’s week.” The class giggled and whispered under their breath about eating my love handles with fava beans. Well, I wasn’t intimidated! I huffed, and I puffed, and I passed out… about 7 times. However, once the class actually started, I was fine.
When the class was over the “coach” encouraged me to come back the next day to combat the “soreness” that was surely waiting for me the next day. Ha! Shows what he knew, or didn’t know. I wasn’t sore the next day… I was completely numb. It took at least a week until I could even feel my limbs again. And then the pain was much more extreme than “sore.” In fact, I was seriously considering making an appointment to see a doctor (probably my gynecologist to help with my taut bosom), when I overheard a woman that was probably in her 60’s but looked like she could benchpress a bus, mention that she could finally straighten her arms again. If Arnoldina was also “sore”, then I knew that I would be just fine.
Sometime during that first week (probably in a secret subliminal manner), the brainwashing was complete. At the end of the week, I was ready to sign up. I marched right up to the front desk and turned in my enrollment form. Just like that, I went from being Fat Tom to being Ralphie of The Christmas Story fame when he turned in what he was sure to be his A+++++++++++++ essay. I sat there and gazed at my new leader lovingly while I pondered how glorious it was going to be when he taught me the secret handshake. After about ten minutes of me staring at him with a stupid grin on my face, he finally said, “Okay… again, welcome aboard… if I give you a free sticker will you stop staring at me like that?”
What??? A darn sticker! Doesn’t he know that if I added a “Crossfit” bumper sticker to the “140.6” sticker that I already had, I wouldn’t even be able to make it to my local Krispy Kreme without the cops looking at me and saying, “that fatty is driving a car that obviously belongs to some sort of a fitness god, let’s pull him over and beat him!” Anyway, in spite of getting swindeled with an Ovaltine decoder ring, I went ahead and joined the cult. Why do I think it is a cult? I’ll explain that in my next post. In the meanwhile, I’ll tell you that I’m back to about 5 lbs. lost. Taut I say… taut!

5:40 Monday Morning- up and at’em! Time for what is sure to be a delightful weigh-in. 213.6??? What??? That means I gained… Let’s see… Carry the one… TWO POUNDS!!! How could that be??? I worked so hard the past 72 hours. Didn’t I??? Let’s see…


5:40 last Friday morning: stupid alarm clock went off. It must have thought it was time to workout. Didn’t it know that I was heading to LA to partayy and that it would be a late night? I obviously needed sleep more than a workout!

7:00 am: doubled up on breakfast so I would have energy for my trip. Ate too much so I packed a healthy salad to take to work with me.

10:30 am: Got a call from the wife. Youngest daughter was sick at home and my wife was expected at her office. Me and my healthy salad headed home.

11:30 am: Put salad back in the fridge and removed leftover pork chops (the extra protein would give me strength for my trip).

3:30 pm at the airport bar: me and my two buddies got a round of drinks and some nachos.

3:35 pm: another round of drinks (we did have those nachos to wash down after all).

3:36 pm: might have burned a few calories defending my decision to not tip 20% for a $70 check for a couple of drinks and some airport nachos. Waitress found this “unbelievable.”

4:20 flight took off.

4:21 discovered you could use multiple drink tickets at one time.

4:50 had peanuts and crackers

7:30 pm: attempted to go eat dinner but the restaurant was too crowded. Decided to move along little doggies.

7:35 til things got fuzzy: created an accidental pub crawl as we did our best goldilocks impressions. This place is too snooty… But we’ll have a drink. I could never eat at this smoky place… But we’ll have a drink. A chain restaurant?!?!? Well…Maybe just a drink…

SATURDAY (48 hours prior to the weigh-in)
4:45 am CA time: woke up at my usual CO time. Still fuzzzzzzzzy.

8:00 am: got my fat butt out for a run while my slacker buddies slept.

9:30 was ready to eat from all that exercise I just did.

9:35 made the recurring mistake of sharing a meal. This works with my wife as we’ll each get to try double the TYPES of food without necessarily eating more. However, try it with two male buddies and you somehow quadruple the AMOUNT of food.

9:45 came to my senses and realized that I was in a weight loss contest and I hadn’t eaten a single vegetable all weekend. Remedied the situation by getting a Bloody Mary. Phew, that was a close call!

10:15 our bellies hurt from grossly over-eating. Decided we could make it to dinner with just some light snacking.

10:16- 4:59pm: snacked

5pm: decided to eat at a Caribbean style chicken place. It smelled so good we had to try everything including the fried chicken, fried plantains, and fried rice.

6:07 arteries jammed to Bob Marley’s hit, “We be clogging.”

7:50 burned 2 calories making 107 old people jokes on Facebook while at the Eagles Concert.

8:45 had a beer to celebrate being the youngest person at the concert.

11:45pm: decided some greasy pizza was a must.

12 am- 2am – had a nightcap and more vegetables (okay they threw an olive in my martini)

9:00 am- shoved a bagel and some yogurt down my throat while taking a cab to the airport.

9:59 am- decided I needed a breakfast burrito before they weaseled out of offering the breakfast menu.

5:00 pm had some delicious lasagna at home.

6:00 had more lasagna (did I mention it was delicious?)

7:00 contemplated having even more lasagna… But remembered I had a weigh-in the next day.

7:03 pm: remembered that I DID run Saturday morning so I had some more delicious lasagna before passing out in a carb coma.

5:40 got out my calculator to figure out that somehow I actually gained 2.2 lbs. while I was traveling.

6:00 am- determined that it just HAD to be my thyroid… Some people gain weight no matter how healthy they eat!!! Did I mention that I even ran (like a sucker) on Saturday???

—final weight 213.6 for a weight gain of 2.2lbs… Which means I get to throw a couple of extra bucks in the pot this week. Moooooo!!!!!!

Today was the first weigh-in since the weight loss contest started. Good news: I lost about half that Krave Burger! As we entered the weekend, I noticed a strange dynamic included in this wager. Their clause about having to pay money each week that you don’t lose weight over the prior week, had me strategizing. I knew I would lose weight over my porked out starting weight, but I didn’t want to lose too much that it would cost me next week. The irony is not lost on me as my fat fingers type this because I’ve got PLENTY to lose this week, next week, the week after that, the week after… well, I guess you get the point. My fat logged brain actually rationalized that I better finish my french fries for lunch so I don’t lose too much weight. I can’t go too hard on these poor suckers, right???
Speaking of which, as of right now, I have no idea how anyone else in the contest did this week. In fact, I don’t really even know who I am competing with yet. So instead of telling you about my contestants in this contest, I’ll tell you about the characters you can find in just about every weight loss contest. I was going to change the names to protect the guilty, but I killed all of my brain cells trying to rationalize those darn fries. Here are my fellow fatties that you can look for in your own contests:

The Larry- Starts gangbusters! You’ll hear things like, “All I had today was a piece of lettuce.” Sometime during day 8, he eats one of his cats and can be heard yelling, “sorry, but all I’ve eaten the past week is freaking rabbit food!” The Larry always finishes the weigh loss contest heavier than he started. Well… technically, he never finishes the weight loss contest but when it is over, The Larry weighs more than when he started.

The Paul- If he is in a weight loss contest, his entire office is going to be in a weight loss contest. If someone is so thoughtless as to bring in bagels (or heaven forbid donuts), they end up in the trash. It would be fine if The Paul stopped there, but he takes it a step further and starts emptying out the fridge (usually by eating the items in it). He does this regardless of whether or not the food is actually his. The tell-tale sign of The Paul is that he gets very grumpy. Did I say very grumpy, ha. Remember that poor person that made the mistake of bringing in the bagels, The Paul takes the liberty of delivering him a swift kick in the nuts.

The Christopher- You joined the weight loss contest because you thought it would be fun, and sure, maybe you do have a few pounds to lose. The Christopher has to claim his annual winnings from weight loss contests on his taxes. If he is in your contest, run as fast as your fat little legs will take you.

The Maria- Gets very serious about both diet and exercise… about four days of the week. Also writes a blog that is much funnier than this one about trying to get her fat butt back in her favorite pair of jeans. Is probably eating while reading this.

The ________ (insert too many women)- Actually take the diet and exercise thing seriously for the entire contest… but don’t lose any weight. You feel sorry for them and try your hardest to not let them know that you’ve been getting your exercise walking ALL the way through the buffet line… yet still have lost more than them.

The Stacey- She isn’t actually IN your contest, you are married to her. Well, I guess, really I am married to her. Usually waits until after the contest begins to start buying ice cream again. “Where should we go for lunch? A greasy burger sure sounds good to me!” Is supportive of your weight loss contests the first 1000 times, but for some silly reason gets fed up with them (well you… okay me) after that. Continues to increase your life insurance policy because she knows that it is just a matter of time before your ticker explodes.

Last and least, The Fat Tom- Kids himself with, “gosh… I think I actually wear the 4 chin look quite nicely, but weight loss contest would give me something to blog about.” Reminds anybody who will listen that muscle weighs more than fat with the daily, “Those aren’t love handles, they are called obliques!” Has spent the past 41 years outsmarting society by instead of trying to lose weight like a sucker, just buying larger sizes of clothing. Now when he wears his dress pants, has complete strangers yelling to him, “Hey Hammer, can’t touch this!” Also realizes that clothing doesn’t cover all areas of his body, so has grown fur over every inch of it tries to sell you on, “Hey, if it made Chewbaca look svelte, it can do the same for me!”

Anyhoo, those are basically your characteristics of your weight loss contestants. Sure you also have the person who should be in it but has what they are sure is an undiagnosed thryroid condition and the person who fakes a hamstring injury to get their entrance fee back after the first weigh-in… wait, I guess both of these could be added to the Fat Tom. So after surviving the first week of trying to go from Buddha to a Greek god (Buddha’s brother from Greece), I am down 6 lbs or 2.7%. Moooooo!!!!!

Holy smokes!!! I woke up, went potty like a big boy (# 4), and stood on the scale only to find that I have already lost 16 lbs. I’m losing 8 lbs. a day just by making poopy! Seriously, I don’t know why so many women choose to be constipated all the time!
Okay, not really, but I am convinced that every woman thinks that it is that easy for men to lose weight (“You drop 10 lbs. with a good bowel movement!”).

Speaking of which, please feel free to chime in on a debate. I keep hearing people (mostly women) say that the heavier someone is, the bigger advantage they have in weight loss contests. I say that isn’t the case because when you are using the Biggest Loser rules, percentages are the great equalizer… Right??? Please let me know if I am wrong because if that is the case I won’t be a sucker and waste any effort in this contest.

Lastly, I need some good non-monetary wagers. I have a guy in the contest that is offering to do a side bet with me. Well as much as an extra $10-20 is motivating, I’d like to do something a little more fun. I’m very confident that I’ll beat this anonymous man (who I’ll call Gabe G.), so I need some good ideas for a wager. I was thinking zany stuff like the loser washes the other’s car in a bikini, but the thought of either of us in a bikini made me throw up a little bit. Help!

Today was the first weigh-in, and needless to say, I’ve never been so disgusted with myself. 217.4. Ouch. Yes, I am disgusted, but maybe not for the reason you think. It isn’t for my incredible girth and four chins. It is because I ONLY have four chins. I started last year’s weight loss contest at 225.4. I had all year to gain weight and I report in weighing eight pounds LESS than last year??? What a loser!

So in case some of you actually want to eat in 2014, I’ll spare you the before photos (for those of you that must know, just picture a cross between Chewbaca, Dolly Parton, and Fat Albert and you’ve got it!). I got the details of the first contest today and here is the pertinent info: it runs from January 13th to March 7th. $10 entry. Weekly weigh-ins. $1 penalty every week you don’t lose weight AND $1 penalty for every pound you gain. Whoever loses the biggest percentage of weight, is the winner, winner, chicken and dumplings dinner.

I’ve decided to go ahead and win this and bring home the bacon. Mmm… bacon… I even came up with an agressive goal of losing 10% or 22 lbs. If I could get down to a svelte 195 I am pretty sure I could fit in my bro again (it is a C cup). But as grandma used to always say, “shut the refrigerator door fatty!” Wait.. not that, “If you fail to plan, you really are your father’s son!” The point is, losing over 20 lbs. won’t just happen on its own. So here is my guaranteed five step plan (patent pending if you are in the contest with me):

1. Look at my before photo often. — Should lose six lbs. as a result.

2. It is better to eat frequently throughout the day to avoid eating too much. It is supposed to be small meals, but bigger has got to be better right? So I’m going to eat large meals frequently throughout the day to make sure I win the hunger games. — Will probably gain seven lbs. as a result.

3. Hit Japanese baths with fellow obese men. — Probably won’t lose weight as a result, but might make some new friends.

4. Donate blood any other bodily fluids that they’ll take. — Probably gain three pounds because of the snacks afterwards.

5. Shave my back. — Lose 26 lbs. Booyah!!!! This is going to be like taking $10 from some other diet contestants… or something like that.

Stay tuned!

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” my wife asked innocently enough. Let’s see… with a weight loss contest beginning in less than 48 hours, maybe I should use tonight to practice eating healthy. Yeah right! “Krave,” was my one word answer.
If you don’t have Krave Burgers in your state, it is only because your legislators might actually care about you. “How bad could it be?” you ask. Go ahead and see for yourself.


Yes, you are reading that correctly, the Luther does say it has two glazed donuts as the hamburger bun (you should also note that right above the Luther they named a burger after me). Now I just wanted to be a glutton not a super glutton so I just went with the nice healthy burger with the fried cheese and chili (let’s be honest, there will be plenty of time for salads after Monday). However, to make sure I got my vegetables in, I ordered the sliced potato to go with it.


After making sure I cleaned my entire plate (considering the kids starving in Africa and all), my always supportive wife suggested we also get one of their adult shakes. I figured the alcohol in the shake might help loosen my quickly clogging arteries, but at this point I was just trying to remember if I was supposed to go to the light or stay away from it.


It’s probably 50/50 that I even survive until Monday’s weigh-in, so if I don’t make it please have my love handles bronzed and sent to the museum of fat.

So it has been about 20 years since I took a philosophy course at my junior college, but I still remember the important stuff.  The first being that no matter what the question was, the professor always had the same response.  He would look at you through bloodshot eyes, scratch his beard 17 times, then say, “Hmmm… you think so, really?”  To which I always had the same answer, ” Yes, I know so!  I REALLY have to go to the bathroom!”  But besides my bearded nemesis, I enjoyed learning how the great thinkers of history would pose questions to teach. Socrates probably impressed me the most with his challenge of, “Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?”

After over a year hiatus from this blog, this not so slim shady is back.  Why?  Probably because you didn’t forward that chain letter email  (even though they clearly warned you that bad things would happen to you).  Actually there are two reasons why I’m bringing sexy back, the first is because I’m tired of crying myself to sleep at night because I miss writing.  As for the second reason, well, I’ll blame it on the time of year.

For most normal people the beginning of a new year means resolutions.  For me, it means weight loss contests.  For some reason there is nothing more satisfying than publicly going from three to five chins.   I usually have to approach random people in the grocery store with, “You there, buying two gallons of ice cream,  you look like you could stand to lose a few pounds, would you have any interest in joining a weight loss contest with me, maam?”  However, not this year as two different contests  just fell into my fat lap (I’ll give you the details in a future post- I know, I know… how are you supposed to get any sleep until you have this tantalizing information???)  I don’t think I really have a shot of winning either contest, but if nothing else, they’ll give me an excuse to write.  I’m such an idiot that I was thinking to myself, “Hmmm… it would be fun to write about this… maybe I’ll have to start a blog. I could get some sort of domain that would include being fat and…oh yeah… I already HAVE one!”  And just like that has new life.