Regardless, a few of we weighty writers decided to all diet together, and blog about it. And when we blog about it, we will all respond to each other with slams, insults, and most likely racial slurs. Please think of this site as a dieting support group, only without the support. As we say, crying is a great way to exercise.
Every weekday you will see a new post from a typing titan of scale tipping. Enjoy.
WHO WE ARE
MONDAY- My name is The Bear Monk (TBM for short), and I try to encourage the mindless masses to think for themselves via Inappropriate Remarks. At this moment I weigh about 280, when I started my weight loss journey I was more like 305.
I've always been that fat kid and as such I've learned to become comfortable/complacent with my size, but recently the wife and I have been talking about children and I'd like to make sure that I'm able to set a decent example for them by living a healthy life.
I've considered going to an Ethiopian diet, but according to some that's not healthy and according to others it's not an entirely appropriate suggestion. But you know what...fuck that. Ethiopians have obviously got the dieting market cornered and we just haven't excepted as a people yet. I'll be the first.
TUESDAY- Hi my name is Lily, and I write a blog called Is it too early for a martini? My blog is cool you should check it out. But anyway… I joined the ranks of this blog to lose a couple of those unnecessary pounds I’m carrying around. Or to get made fun of because I can’t lose the same 30 pounds that I’ve been trying to lose for the past couple years. Whatever.
It’s not all that, but I also accepted to be my friends’ bridesmaid. And even though the date is not until 2012, I know it might take me that long to lose the weight. I refuse to be the fat bridesmaid everyone makes fun of. Oh, and I know what you’re saying, “oh no one makes fun of a fat bridesmaid."
LIES. They do, and you know it. I’ve done it. And trust me, I do not want to walk down the aisle thinking, “are these people making fun of me because I’m the chubby one?” Yeah.
I knew that someday all those bags of chips and cans of soda I had for breakfast during middle school would catch up with me. Ah, to be young again… or to be able to go back in time and say, “Oh young Lily, go take advantage of that free breakfast your school provides!” but alas, it is not possible.
I’m starting at 180. Which, may not seem like much, but I’m like 5’0. And it makes a whole lot of a difference. A couple of years ago I got down to 130. I liked that Lily. I want to be that Lily again. And actually keep the weight off this time. According to this nutritionist I was seeing, I should be 117 lbs. Realistically, I’m going to say 130 is where I want to be. 130. One hundred thirty.
WEDNESDAY- Hey guys, I'm Lorraine, one half of Late to the Party. One very large half.
I'm only slightly kidding, mostly because at all of five feet tall, I'm not sure if I can call myself "large." There are some who would disagree with me. Particularly, I recall a conversation I was having with someone I was sleeping with. I made an off-handed comment about being "small" and HE LAUGHED AT ME. If my totally damaged and traumatized memory serves (it does) he said something like, "You have ginormous calves, huge boobs, large lips, big eyes... I'm not sure anything on you is small. Except for maybe your ass."
Did you guys know that at five feet tall it's totally considered healthy to be 98 pounds? It's true. You could be a wet noodle and everyone would be all, "Yay! You're awesome."
I am not 98 pounds.
Did you also know that if you are five feet tall and you hit 125 pounds, you're pushing the far end of the healthy scale and ugly words like, "overweight" and even possibly "fat ass" start getting tossed around?
I am not 125 pounds.
I'm 149. Now, this is the part where I could spout off about a legit-shit medical condition I have that loosely translates to, "crazy, broken, woman with lots of stuff wrong with her, including a tendency to gain all weight around the midsection." I mean, I could tell you tons of scientific stuff about this, but I'm honest with myself. And I'll be honest with you: I eat like a third grader.
Chocolate is my main food group. Today, I've had 2 packs of Little Debbies Zebra Snacks for "breakfast" and that might last me all the way until dinner. I skip lots of meals. Did I mention that I eat a lot of chocolate? Oh, and great, a co-worker just skipped passed my cube announcing marshmallow brownies in the break room, which OF COURSE I HAVE TO EAT.
Obviously I'm not putting a ton of faith in myself. Then again, I did already lose 30 pounds last year. But THEN AGAIN, I was unemployed and living off Hershey bars and depression. Uh, anyways, my goal: 135lbs to start. I don't even want to be an Ethiopian like these other losers (not that my boobs would have any of that, anyways,) I just want to be a little closer to "healthy according to all the restrictions The Man has placed on us."
Through this whole experiment, I'm just going to keep the words of my wise, wise mother playing on loop in my head: Ugly people can't be fat too.
And as for these other fluffy schmucks, I say bring it on. As the wise Bret once said, "Tears are just another way to get rid of water weight."
THURSDAY- My name is Bret Staples, and I write the blog Slightly Disappointing. The unpopularity of my blog makes me eat egregious amounts of food, so ultimately my massive size is your fault. In the last 3 weeks, because of an on-purpose weight gaining quest I have gained 16 pounds and as of this morning I weighed 285. Of course, I'm not quite that high, as my scale is legitimately broken. After I got off, my cat stepped over it, and it also listed her at 285, but the point is I deserve to see that number because my scale is only broken from repeatedly being crushed by my fat butt over the years. My goal weight is something like 96 pounds. Basically this is me now:
And this is my goal:
You can't see that kid's face, but you know he is smiling away pleased as punch to be that skinny. Lucky jerk.
Ultimately I am sure I will fail, because I have to eat, and often do. If I was to ever succeed it would be because I need to go on the "Chilean miner stuck thousands of feet underground diet." Whenever I hear a story about someone getting stranded like that I envy them. Oh sure, they all complain out loud that they might die and miss their families, but seriously? You know they are thinking, "If I had a mirror I bet I'd look damn fine."
Anyway, even with my impending failure, I am certain we can have some good times laughing at me.
FRIDAY- I go by Witless Exposition over at my blog Cerebral Lunchbox (don't get intimidated by the title, it's not really that smart). At the moment I weigh a staggering 235 (it kills my soul a little each time I type it, and then makes me want to eat a Snickeloaf). I'm trying to set smaller goals that are more realistic than the 110 most BMI charts say I should be (really, guys, really?) so I'm starting off with a goal of 199.
The thing that really kicked off my desire to slim down and become healthier is my side-view. You see, I'm pretty lucky in that I gain wait evenly across my body, so I'm fairly proportional. My front view can actually be nice as seen in the following illustration:
|See, I added a small belly roll, completely realistic portrayal of my body.|
Yeah, mirrors can be a bitch. It's pretty difficult to avoid side view in photos and social settings. I'd like to be able to not walk like a crab everywhere I go, skuttleing sideways everywhere, I'd like to start living healthier, which will most likely end up with me slimming down some.
Well, that's us folks. Don't laugh. Don't hate. We all have a serious problem and we need our friends to help us. By "help us" I mean "bring us cake." Seriously. Please.