So I believe I have successfully added a folding option to the blog. This means long posts can now be squished, so they don't take up the whole damn page. In other words, I control the matrix, it does not control me. So now, we will test this marvelous new feature, in order that we may enter the Utopia I promised earlier. If you click the bit of text that says "read more" or whatever I have it say eventually (in the spirit of slacktopia, I haven't decided yet) you will expand this post and see my usually rambling. Not thrilling, until you realize that I will be revealing my true weight as well. Go ahead and guess what it is before you click. If you guess right, you'll get a slap from me followed by "Oh you bastard, you bastard, how could you guess that high?"
My full weight will be revealed shortly. But first, additional comments on family reunion. The director of the camp we stayed at (the one with the wife who was content with her role) was always ramping up the religious talk to an amazingly annoying level. Every time he talked to us as a group he would say something like "Gosh, God just loves family. We're so glad you're here because God loves families. And he wants to increase his family right?" or some such. When you talked to him one on one, you could have a normal conversation (or so I overheard) but as a group, we always had to enter group think mode and repeat that we believed in Jesus lest He strike us dead. Douglas always used to talk like that too, to groups who came in? It's like you need at least 5 Jesus references per conversation to prove that you're not devil worshippers in disguise. What's up with that?
So, at surgical consultation yesterday (nothing big, don't worry), they weighed me. Funny story, my general practitioner didn't weigh me, but these guys did for no apparent reason. The result. Wait for it. 234 fucking pounds of me exists at the moment. I'll repeat that. TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FOUR FUCKING POUNDS. I'm five foot nine inches tall. So, uh, time to get back on the horse I guess. And by "the horse" I mean I should probably start exercising again. Or take up an eating disorder. Hmmm, that sounds promising, I'll start looking into that. In the meantime, I'll just pretend that the weight is entirely due to muscle. I cherish my delusions.
Catch Wonder Showzen on MTV2 if you haven't already. It's the most offensive thing I've seen in a while. And I laugh and laugh and laugh. Nothing like a kids show that shows puppets vomiting blood. The show that's playing as I type this is all about patience. As such, it tries to annoy you as much as possible in a funny kind of irony. Good times, good times.
I'm giving the London bombings a day before I comment. Consider it a moment of silence for the dead.
In the meantime, remember, Minmei loves each and every one of you.
A couple of thoughts on the God talk: If you're among a group of people that agree with you doctrinally, then isn't it a bit unnecessary, a preaching to the choir or cheerleading? And if you're among people that don't agree with you, it's not evangelism; it's offputting, it annoys and angers people. Mainly because it sounds and feels so artificial.
ReplyDeleteI have known a few (a very few) people who have incorporated God into their normal conversations without being overbearing, artificial, or contrived. They are good people that obviously love God, are loving and kind to everyone I've ever seen them interact with, and don't hand out flyers or pamphlets door to door. People I can respect.
As for your weight. . . I guess I can say you carry it well. I didn't guess that high. And I've started working out with Todd at 6 AM, so I'm testament that it can be done, even with weak willpower. It just takes someone to be accountable to. He shows up even though he hates mornings because he doesn't want me to bitch him out about not showing up. And the same is true for me.
I'm not going to pretend I have a weight problem to make everyone feel good, but I'm tired of feeling weak and unfit. I'm soft in areas I used to be harder. No, not THAT area. I just want to feel stronger, and unfortunately I'm behind a desk so much I have to go push around machines to get strong. Back when I was digging ditches, I never had this problem. . .
Can you hide hard candy in the folds of this blog?
ReplyDeleteI keep a couple of Jolly Rancher's pinned beneath my titanic gut, just in case I get hungry.