"Oh, Fruit Fly", I implored the late bloomer who clung to my wine glass this evening. "I suspect you've lived through many incarnations. I think, deep down, you know this will end poorly."
Mr. Scoop is out being fete-ed (?) by his about to be former co-workers because they like him even though he's leaving them for greener horizons closer to home. Yes, greener. Mr. Scoop can now buy and sell you.
You know, if you don't mind your net worth being calculated in oxidized pennies.
On the dollar.
On E-bay. With accessories included to make you more fun.
No. You're not fun. Your people have told us.
I bet you didn't know you had people.
So, I've been drinking sake and eating Asian food to fill the time/space. Sure, it's about a month officially that I've been dieting. I'm down 11 pounds officially. Slow. Steady. Infuriating. Yet, I went for my allotted 30 minutes of exercise. Structure is important. Regular exercise is important. Still, I'm looking into buying more equipment and accessories. Something that makes exercise something that might lead me more easily to behead a man for aerobic benefit. I need incentives.
I'm trying to tell myself that, since the Asian food already lived in my freezer and was, at least in part, made by my own hand it won't come back to haunt me in the morning. At this point, I say "whatever". Sometimes, despite eating the extra 700 to 800 calories of alcohol, you find you lose a pound or two out of dehydration from the hangover the next day. I'm not really particular at this point.
Oh, and let me know if you know someone who needs beheading.
Technorai Tags: Diet , Food , Sake , Dark Humor , Life