Can I start over?

Lily says: I'm deathly afraid of stepping on the scale this week. Thanksgiving extravaganza was horrible. There was too much food and what not. And it was pointless do Ethiopian Diet the weeks leading up to T-gives. Not to mention that there were no Lily-friendly foods at our table. I don't eat pork. And freaking people in my family decide "well 2010 Thanksgiving is ALL PORK-GIVING". Gee, thanks. Assholes. So I ate nothing but mashed potatoes and arroz con gandules (which threw me for a loop, I didn't know I was now Puerto Rican).

So let's start over.

Egg white omelette for breakfast. GO!

TBM says: I assume when you say what not, you mean vodka...and seriously, no pork?  What other reason do we have to shamble along through this meaningless triviality called life then to consume mass quantities of smoked, baked, or fried pork?

Lily Says: yeah no pork. pork = gross. I hate the way it smells when it's being cooked.

Stupid Face-Breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeead AKA Bret says: bad memories of when your older cousin made you do horrible things to him while cooking up some pig?

 

Oh, and this week has really made me open up my eyes about this blog.  I think instead of weight loss it should turn into a celebration of being fat.

Lor says: It certainly isn't a celebration. I mean, we all enjoy food, sex and some of us even like booze, but I'm not sure anyone is thrilled about being overweight. 

We feel bad for our ways, Bret. I mean, I do. You might be happy. Does this mean you have sausage in your mouth again?

The Leftovers are Finally Gone

TBM Says:


So, Thanksgiving wasn't really that bad...all carbs considered.  What really hurt was the time I missed in the gym.  I could really tell the difference.  My joints were stiff and most of my meager muscles were really sore for most of the week.

We started out saying that we would go down to the beach and take a walk everyday.  For the dogs...  That didn't happen.  The thought never really crossed my mind actually.  Faced with a PS3 and a comfy chair my memory lapsed and I played Red Dead Revolver instead.

At least my thumbs got a workout...

Lily Says: 

So your thumbs had a good week. *yawn*

The Fantastical Flaccid Fish Says: 

I'd love to make fun of all of you...but I have had a horrible week, so I will hold my pumpkin pie covered tongue. 

Lorraine Says: 

You know that actually explains all the silence. I think none of us really feel entitled to cut anyone down. That, plus, I'm sure some of your mouths are still full. 

I'm of course referencing pie. 

RIP Turkey Day

Witless says:
I guess I get the wonderful privilege of being the first fail post of the week.  I'm sure we'll all have horror stories of various degrees, which will probably start a horrible spiral until Christmas. (Except for maybe Lor, who I think might already be dead).

This week was rough, but not as bad as I expected it to be, really.  We visited my Dad in the Fried Belt AKA the south, where you can even get your butter deep fried (no, really, they have it here at fairs).  We ate out a lot more than we have been in the past, but for the most part I choose to have things that weren't bad for me.  I avoided fried foods for the most part, except when we went to Raising Caines, and choose healthy side items when possible or even opted for no side at all.

I did completely fall off the water wagon, drinking Diet Coke and Coke Zero almost the whole time.  And I do have to say, I actually miss non carbonated drinks.  If I don't have one for a couple of weeks, I really am ready to kill for it, but now I'm looking forward to having good water to drink (the water here is terrible tasting).

I've also completely fallen off the exercise wagon, and I really really miss it.  That's probably the biggest surprise of all.  I've felt draggy all week, and it wasn't just the turkey.  I'm ready to get back to the routine we've been building. I don't look forward to having to start all over again, but hopefully it'll get back to where I was before.

I've refused to look at the scale this week.  I'll give a numbers update next week, where I'm hoping to be where I was before we left. 

Lorraine says: 
Wait, when did I become the one who died? A girl has one bad week and you guys already kill her off.

I'm really excited to be on this side of Thanksgiving. Sure, Christmas is around the corner, but my family will be out of town and I feel like that'll be a much more manageable hurdle. I feel all icky after this last week. My body is rebelling against the calories and -shock- soda.

I'm not dead though. I'm still alive and in this. And soon enough I'll be back in spirits to declare myself as the winner. As for now, I'm gonna go decide whether I want to gym or paint my nails.

Goodbye 270's (until next week)

Bret (What the Hell) Says- 


Hello all, my weekly weigh in shows me at 269-which i minus 16 so far, a 2 pound loss, which i think is collectively more than this entire pathetic group.  I'd be proud of that, but I think lily has gained 8 pounds since we started, so it really doesn't count.

First off, let me point you here... http://s00permac.blogspot.com/2010/11/good-sweat.html this would be the blog of one our most (and by that I mean only) loyal readers who has written her 2nd blogging blog feature.  Essentially she is fascinated like a child watching a rat in a maze about our continuing evolving thoughts on weight loss, and offers some possibly helpful tips on how to stay healthy.  I say possibly because I believe she is a smoker, which means that she will stay fit, trim, and healthy until she succumbs to lung cancer in 3 months.  For those who go ahead and read, please note that her 1st point is the essence of my entire diet.  I'm not counting calories.  I'm doing healthy foods and portion controls.

Also, I did my biggest weight loss secret of all this week:  I got my hair cut.  My hair was getting pretty long, and I cut it really short, so i think that was a tenth of a pound in my favor.  If I could lose a tenth of a pound every time I pay 15 dollars, I'd be all over it.  The fast food alone would make me skinny.

OK here is my other dirty little secret:  I have the Wii Fit.  Now, the Wii Fit sucks as an exercise tool (oh look!  after setting up the game, listening to the instructions for a minute, waited for the timer to count down, and watched the post game graphics of my wii celebrating, I burned 2 calories!), however it is GREAT as a weight tracking tool.

For instance, my likely broken scale, the one that I use to tell you my weight here, goes only by half pounds.  That alone is demoralizing.  If you have to lose half a pound to see progress, that means you can work hard for a few days before a scale even tells you anything.  And I know that you aren't supposed to look at a scale every day, but I also know that I will never STOP looking.  So shut up.

Any"weigh" besides that fact I've noticed my scale doesn't really go in half pounds.  It goes in pound "sections".  So all week I watch my scale bounce between 271.5 and 269 and I hope and pray that it ends on 269 so I can say I lost weight.  (Actually today it bounced between 267 and 269, which means I know that according to that scale, I will NEVER weigh 268).

The Wii fit though, tells you BMI to the 2nd decimal, and weight to the first.  So when I measure myself daily I can see some sort of change, and that's what really drives me forward.  Especially in this tough holiday season when cookies are everywhere and softball is over.  I started a workout plan that has been successful so far, but I fully believe only because I can see the daily fluctuations of my body on the wii fit to constantly inspire or shame me.

Which leads me to this place, which has honestly been successful in doing the same thing.  Knowing that if I quit dieting means that I either have to 1)report weight gain here or 2) publicly quit a lorraine-like failure keeps me looking at each week as a goal.  It's been very good in keeping me driving towards small goals and focusing at the task on hand for the long run, that is, up until I quit in a few weeks.

Anyway, everyone out here have a Happy Thanksgiving, I am quite certain that this next week will be an absolute blogging blobs disaster.  And I'm looking forward to it.

Lily Says-

I'm not even going to pretend I read anything past Chole's post mention. So whatever your said, "Bret" is a moot point. Happy thanksgiving. I'm off to celebrate when the cowboys killed the indians. 

Witless Says-

I'm still amazed at the crazy tricks we try to say we've lost weight. Really, Tricky, hair? It's only a matter of time before someone orders a tapeworm from China or something.
I can't say I'm surprised you have a Wii, that fits in perfectly with my mental image of you.
Prepare for the fail and happy Thanksgiving.

Closet Homo Says-

A Wii fit?  Really?  I suppose you do require negative feedback in order to opperate by normal human standards.  Only in this wonderfully obese country could we justify playing a video game as exercise, but I'm almost proud that you haven't swallowed that pill...like a box of Zebra cakes.

Bret Says-

I'm just amazed that all of you have responded.  Well, not all of you, but who expected Lor anyway?  I'm sure she doesn't want to type with turkey carcass and gravy dripping from her fingers as she forgoes silverware for being "too slow."

After Thanksgiving. Honest.

Lorraine Says: To sum up my week: FAIL.

 

There is no lying to you, to the diet gods, to the Ethiopians or to my scale who remained unmoved and might have even rolled its eyes at me.

 

This week was a diet fail. I wasn't even trying. Yeah, yeah, two or so weeks in and I sort of gave up. I have a Play-doh will and dandelion self-control. I've been surrounded by friends and family this past week and all anyone wants to do is flippin' eat. It's not even Thanksgiving yet and I'm in charge of making all the dessert. Do you see where I'm going with this?

 

Anyways, I did at least learn a lesson from my fall from diet victory this week: I need to get back to the gym. Just cutting out zebra cakes isn't going to help me reach my goal. Plus, I obviously haven't cut zebra cakes, I just started buying the Christmas tree ones. I have the least amount of weight to lose and really a lot of it is tightening up the flab. The gym will be my best friend.

 

After Thanksgiving.


Lily Says: For some reason, I anticipate Bret or whatever his new name is, making this about him. *Sits and waits*

Are you making homemade zebra cakes for dessert? Or are you going to just place unwrapped zebra cakes on a tray?


Lorraine Says: I wish that would fly! Unfortunately, the stuff I'll be baking will be much, much worse than zebra cakes.


Tricky Fish Says: Well thank you for that intro lily, I just read it after my 45+ minute walk with my girlfriend.  During this walk I also did not eat any zebra cakes.  Of course that's enough about me.

Lor, don't think of your week as a fail.  Think of it as a win.  You win the most pathetic award.  You write with 4 different people that are way larger than you, and yet you are the worst at controlling your eating habits.  That's really something.

Just think, as you get older and your metabolism gets worse and you start getting really big you can get on disability and make the government deliver chocolate to your house for FREE.

I see a bright future for you.  Bright in the sense that you will one day fly in an airplane that cannot support your mass and the ensuing wreckage will light up the night sky.  I hear fat is very flammable.

Happy Thanksgiving.  I hope you eat a thigh bigger than your own. 

Lily Says: I'm trying to mentally prepare for the amount of food that will be presented to me on Thursday, AKA: Kill a Turkey Day, or the day the Pilgrims killed the Indians in the first basketball game.

I lost another stupid pound.

Just one. WTF. This is what happens when I go out drinking. Though I haven't ate all week, I'll decide to drink those calories, get super  shit faced and feel like shit the next morning.

I hope the Turkey Gods help me not overeat turkey.

Tricky Fish Says: I don't know what you are complaining about with this only lost a pound stuff.  In a normal week you gain what, 12 pounds?  I think losing a pound is pretty darn good for you, even though it's the equivalent of bear having a mole removed.

Lorraine Says: Maybe it's all the promise of mass amounts of food, but I've been out of form lately. As much as I would love to pick on Lily for being a lush or for only losing a pound or I dunno, that booze-stained shirt I love so much, I'm just so happy about food. REAL FOOD. Turkey. And maybe even some drink that isn't water. And OMG, did I mention FOOD?

 

Obviously, I'm distracted.

 

Now, what is Tricky babbling about? He wants to eat Bear and have a mole removed?

 

FOOD. 

Witless Says: Thanksgiving is glorious!

Do you want to hear my healthy living compromise for Thursday?  We're only having sugar free chocolate pie for dessert.  No pumpkin, no pecan, just one dessert.

Hey, we all have to start somewhere, right?

TBM Says: Personally I feel like the whole no pumpkin pie thing is bullshit.  Pumpkins are super healthy after all.

A slight change of plan

So this week the Wife and I are on vacation, visiting my father in-law and in all honesty I've completely forgotten about my post until just now.  As such I'll be diverging from our regular format and forgoing the mockery.  Or at least the mockery I suffer in the actual post itself.

By all means you guys feel free to fire away in the comments.

So I've been eating pretty good and I've gone to the gym everyday up till Friday which is when we left.  We met with a trainer at the gym we joined and we're now working by a plan, which actually seems to be helping.

First off the evils of circuit training...whoever invented this particular workout format is most assuredly roasting in the fires of Hell right now.  A 30 minute workout consisting of 60 second intervals of light weight lifting and cardio.  Let me tell, it's a fucking painful experience.

And then there's the damn "Arch" machine (Using "'s here because I'm not 100% sure what the thing is called.  It sounded like they said arch).  It's like a machine that makes you run a row of tires...only there's no stopping.  Just high stepping as fast as you can.  I'm not entirely sure my legs will ever feel the same again.

And last but certainly not least is the God forsaken Elliptical.  This device was obviously created by Satan himself.  It's like the "Arch" machine only it's really hard to go slow.  I'm not sure if I'm doing something wrong or what but it seems like I gain momentum and all of sudden I'm like sprinting and to be frank...my fat ass can't handle that shit for long.

So that's been my week.  I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to manage a workout routine while I'm away from the gym.  So far that plan has gone abysmally.  I've done nothing but sit around and play video games and watch movies all day.

Does better late than never work out here?

I know, I know, you've been waiting anxiously for my post, but TBM and I were on the road.  It's hard to get WiFi in a moving care the middle of nowhere.  But here it is, I hope it's been worth your wait.

Witless Exposition says: Later today I'll be getting whatever magic pills are supposed to help me with this whole body revolting against me syndrome.  But so far this week, without them I've been able to "loose" roughly three pounds this week.

I've eaten pretty close to how Tricky eats when he's at a buffet, but better than when he's with his family.  Even though there were some days where my food intake was pretty abysmal, I've been very focused on the missing magic ingredient to the healthy living mix:

Exercise.

Yes, TBM and I have joined the fat ass gym (AKA Planet Fitness) and have gone each day for a week.  Every day I've been able to push myself a little further. And each day the urge to die while on that damned Elliptical machine has faded. 

And the biggest surprise of all?  I've actually enjoyed myself.  I've slept better and been less tired this week than I have in months (I actually slept for 6 hours straight last night, which is a big deal for me).  I guess this whole exercise thing actually is good for me.

Although, I have found one part of the gym that creeps me out:  watching the weightlifters stare at themselves while doing reps.  It makes me feel dirty, as if I'm watching them masturbate.  Really, really icky.

So, I'm starting to get in my ducks in a row, even though I haven't gotten on the water bandwagon yet.  There is just a limit to how much water I can take in a day.  Maybe a dash of tequila would help?

Tricky Fish says:  Oh man, I completely agree with you on the weight lifters.  They stare at themselves longingly.  It's horrible, and what's worse, is that it causes me to stare at them like I am some sort of voyeur.  You sit there thinking, "What's going on in their heads?  Are they that attracted to themselves that they just stare in the mirror for an hour?"  I mean they really seem to get off on that.  Then, inevitably, they will make eye contact with you through the mirror.  And you just KNOW that they think that you are staring at them because you are attracted and envy them, when in fact you have to believe that their like is a steroid and testosterone filled mad house featuring battered women, and shrunken testicles.

And then you think, "actually, that doesn't sound that bad..."

Anyway, here is my (honestly) inspirational video of the day, he is the brother of one of my favorite writers of today, and has his own weight loss blog.  He has lost 220 pounds as of this video.  I would love to lose 220 pounds, except that all that would be left of we would be 6 toes and an elbow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EEDyTM38mk

And here is his blog, unfortunately his blog starts when he was already on a pretty successful diet, and that's no fun.  You want to show people you can make it through the most painful parts, like when it takes you a month to lose 2 pounds, and 12 minutes to eat 6 pounds of spaghetti.

http://theantijared.com/

"Title, Jesus Christ, I don't know. Make fun of you."

Tricky Fish Says: 271--I think that's down 3 more pounds from last week and 14 total.  This one even included my girlfriend's birthday and a very nice breakfast buffet where I had to continuously tell myself not to "get my money's worth"

I have continued to eat healthy, and yes, drink almost exclusively water (something I was doing before this diet anyway).  This is because I'm not an idiot and have researched why water, and being even more thirst, and drinking even more water is good for you.

Take this one random link...

http://ezinearticles.com/?Drink,-Drink,-Drink---How-Water-Increases-Metabolism&id=1001158

Water is fantastic for you.  The fact that you haven't been drinking this much water before means that your body was simply adjusting to the Arizona life style that is being in your body.  With the water though?  It's begging for more.  It cleans out your system, hydrates you, helps with your joints, it does everything.  Whereas studies clearly show that zebra cakes are only about 80% as good as water.

O.K. Back to me.  My girlfriend made me stir fry last night with something called "toe foow" which is otherwise known as "not food."  However she flavored it like food, and as an Ethiopian, I gobbled it down.  I even invited her to make it again if she wants.  In fact, to be honest with you, with her making my food recently (I cannot cook, only order out) I honestly have to wonder when the last time I ate meat was.  I know that answer is easy for bear, it was the last time he was on his knees, or this morning.



Lorraine Says: I know water is good for you, idiot, that's why I'm drinking it.

Not good for you? This imaginary girlfriend that you keep trying to sell us. Now she's cooking for you? Right.

Also not good? Being consumed with thoughts of Bear and all the meat  he eats. It's clear to me that you are. Seriously, this obssession with all of our sex lives has got to be as unhealthy as a box of zebra cakes. Probably worse.


The Wife Says: I'm pretty sure that Tricky's "girlfriend" is really just his mother.  Maybe an aunt if we're lucky.

How good is he at photoshop? Because the next step is he's going to show us a photograph as "proof." 


Lorraine: As an ending side note, Tricky asked me to post this for him, which is why you'll see my name down below. And when asked what I should title the post about his fake girlfriend, his love of Bear's man-meat, the fact that he's dating his mom or aunt or both, the lovely gem of a quote that is now the title of this post is what he gave me.

Real original kid. Real original.

The Great Water Myth

Lorraine Says: Aside from the occasional (and almost medicinal) cup of coffee, I've managed to phase every other drink out of my life. It's all me and water now.

"Oh, great Lorraine! Good job. How are you feeling? All thirst quenched?"

NO. Dammit.

This is the stupidest thing ever, because as I've increased my total water intake, I've gotten progressively thirstier. I'm that girl now, carrying around the super cute, super jumbo water bottle and taking sips out of it like if I were Lily and the water were tequila.

No matter how much water I drink (a lot) I always feel thirsty (not healthy) and cotton mouthy (ewww). And I swear, I didn't take that green little Chinese diet pill either.

I hate you, water.

That said, I lost another pound this week for a total weight loss of 4 pounds since we started. Look, I know 1-2 pounds a week is a pretty healthy weight loss rate, but it's also really fudgin' BORING.

Everything about diets is boring. I mean, I just spouted off about WATER as the most exciting thing in my entire diet week. I know some one is going to come out of the woodwork and say, "healthy food can be delicious!" and I'll say, "no. Chocolate is delicious."

And the truth of it all is that I don't really care that much about food. I want it to be two things really: easy and fast. (Dammit I can hear the whore jokes now. I beat you to it though, so consider shutting the hell up, son.)

Easy + fast + diet = bland.

That probably explains why I rebelled over the weekend. I gorged myself on sushi, I had IHOP, a vanilla Frosty, chocolate wine and I shared a box of zebra cakes. This is spread over Friday, Saturday, Sunday, so all things considered, this is still me behaving better than usual.

Sigh.

Did I mention the one pound?

-------------------------------------------------------------

Lily says: Let's get shit straight.... I drink vodka as if it were water. Tequila is reserved for special occasions.

Water is pretty boring. Drink some ginger ale... or Gatorade. Something to not make you feel like you just finished smoking pot.

Congrats on the one pound.


Bret Says: You think water doesn't work, however you spent your weekend as a human garbage dump for fat filled dairy drinks, 24 hour restaurant crap, alcohol that of course included chocolate, and at least a gallon of magical man juice (the last one was inferred).

Thus I think that you lost one pound from the water alone.  I'd congratulate you, but I'll save it for the results of your next STD panel.


Lor Says: And by "inferred" you definitely mean "I was having wet dreams about you again."

Dreams are just dreams, Bret. I'm STD and another pound free. I know that excites you in all kinds of ways, but no, I still won't sleep with you.

Minus 5/Non-broken scale success

Lily Says: This week was SUCCESS!
Minus four pounds on the bod. All thanks to the Ethiopian Diet. I think I finally get what those kids do to get those twiggy bods. Though... I'm not really doing the ED on purpose. Sometimes, I really only have time for breakfast. Then classes until forever and work right after. By the time I get home it's like 1 am... also known as past my bedtime.

Total lost: 5 lbs.
I'm actually fine with that number. Yay!
I'm deathly afraid of gaining 5 times the weight I loss starting next Thursday. Stupid fucking turkey day. And I know what you're thinking "eat the veggies" and the "healthy stuff"... Let's be real here. I'm Mexican... and really those two things do not apply. Especially when you throw in a very horrible American holiday about killing people and eating them (may not be historically accurate... whatever).

The Mighty Tickler (Bret) Says:  Congrats on the 5 pounds madame.  Look, we all need a simple Thanksgiving/holiday plan.  That is, we don't want to suffer the rest of our lives with bean sprouts while we watch others eat turkey and Christmas cookies for 4 months.  That is no way to live a life.  So, there should be a daily plan.  EAT Thanksgiving dinner, but only one serving (leftovers baby!)  Have a Christmas cookie, but make it one per day, or one per 6 hours or something.  Drink Tequila Lily, but limit it to 6 bottles a day, and only 1 at a time while driving.

This isn't that hard, we can do this!  Except for Lily.  It's 9:19AM her time, and I'm sure she's sloshed.

Lily Says:  Oh. 6! That's what it was.

Lorraine Says: Congrats on the five pounds, but... you are Mexican + major holiday coming up? Your only hope will be lots of poo.

Fine, whatever, I'm really worried about Thanksgiving too. Not eating at least two servings at Thanksgiving dinner is a sure sign to the family of bad, bad things:

1.) You didn't like the cooking, which means you should be punched in the face.
b.) You are in love. And you didn't tell anyone?!
cat.) You are sick, or possibly and most likely pregnant.

I don't want to be grilled about being pregnant guys. Because that will lead to a conversation about how sex is evil, and Lily can attest to all the health benefits of sex, but Lily will not be there. She will be on bottle 6.5 of tequila because it's an effin' holiday and she can have all the bottles she wants.

Drink to that my dear! Because if Thanksgiving is about anything, it's about our freedom to be fatasses. Wait. That might also be historically inaccurate.

The Mighty Tickler (Bret) Says: Thanksgiving is all about us eating some Indian food so that we could give them all small pox and take over, so that Lily could come along some day with her big pox, which is what she calls her nipples.

Look it up, it's on wiki.

Lily Says: Yeah, the sexy time burns all the calories... and I think.... and highly suspect that the broken scale hella lied to me. This new scale is like hella cooler and doesn't lie. So I wouldn't be surprised if I lost like 3 lbs last week, and 2 pounds this week.

But I did pretty well for a week with no cardio. And no cardio = Lily's hella bitchy. And be proud of me, because I've been feeling sad... maybe also because I had no cardio, and have been wanting to eat my feelings... and drink them. But I didn't. Yay! Smiley Face!

Lorraine... I know what you mean! I'm thinking I'm going to go up to the buffet line twice... BUT am going to serve myself a little of everything. I'm thinking like teaspoons of mashed potatoes and stuffing... teaspoon of rice... teaspoon of turkey. This knocks out 1.

As for b. They all know I'm in love... except my grandma...

and cat... Jesus, if I were pregnant, then at least I'd know I was going to be at least 20 lbs lighter in 9 months. But if I were expecting, they'd all want to feed me more.... which really means I'd gain about 100 pounds. And THAT will kill the sex drive. Or so I hear.

Bret... your nipples are bigger than the bottom of a 64 oz fountain drink cup at 7-11. HEY-O!


TBM Says: Holy Shit...5 pounds?  Did you get a breast amputated?  Did you simply turn down 1 bottle of Vodka?  Hopefully not the first...  Who am I trying to kid?  Hopefully not the second either.

This year I'm not really dreading Thanksgiving so much.  There will only be 3 of us and 2 of us are diagnosed diabetics.  We're getting used to controlling the portions now too. 

I almost shit a brick when I started reading Bret's first comment.  I thought surely someone had hijacked his email account and decided to try and trick us into thinking he had a heart or something.  Upon completing my read I discovered Bret is still the heartless bastard we've all come to love or tolerate...whichever applies.

As Bret didn't say it, I will...Lor rhymes with whore.  No wonder your family would question you about pregnancy hon...

Sometimes, life just shits on your face and then smears it in...

TBM Says: I've had a pretty healthy week. I've been eating like I should and I've gone to the gym everyday since Thursday (the first day of my membership). but I haven't really seen any real results.

My blood sugar is about the same and I think I've actually gained a pound. I'm not going to bother with the whole "muscle is heavier then fat" argument. It feels like bullshit and likely is. It's like my body doesn't understand what's going on...I workout and it's like "What the fuck are you doing? I was holding on to that fat for winter and shit man..." Well fuck you body...time to be a little lesser.

Anyway...next week we'll be visiting family and I really need to come up with a game plan to keep up the workouts and try not to gorge myself at some of my favorite dives.

I'm thinking that I can probably do some beach jogs to keep the workouts rolling...I'm thinking the dogs might like that as well. I might get a little extra workout just trying to get them to go near the water. And as far as gorging myself...well I promise I'll only have 1 Baked Salmon roll at Sakura and I swear I'll share the Mardi Gras Nachos at Brownstone. Difficult as it may be.

Lily Says: By any chance, was the pound you gained the pound I lost last week?

If so, it was supposed to go to Bret.

The Wife Says: I think both of our bodies are rebelling.  It's starting to get cold outside, natural hibernation time for Bears, and what do we do?

Make them move.

It's no wonder they hate us. (And yes, I noticed I've gained a pound or two since this whole work out things started).

The Mighty Tickler (Bret) Says: My God, and you guys got on me for blaming my family.

Bear, sorry to say, you aren't ACTUALLY a bear.  A nickname does not make it so.  You are a human, as a human, you do not hibernate.

You gained a pound because you are a failure at life, and this "diet" is part of your life.  There is good news though, as a big fat slob you will likely die at a relatively young age, and therefore your constant shortcomings will no longer be a "heavy" load.

Oh, and so far this week I have lost weight.  I just finished a healthy bowl of cream of mushroom soup for lunch, along with my glass of water, and tonight I will be playing softball.

So eat it.  Oh why even say that?  I know you will. 

Failure.  Nom nom nom. Depression. Nom nom nom.  Impotence. Nom nom nom.

PS...Sorry for the late post.  Also, WTF Lorraine?  I'm not good enough to get a response today?

You're doing what to my what???

Witless Exposition says:
I feel I'm in good company with Lil. I lost one pound as well (we can talk about celebratory drinks later). I really haven't done much beside run out of Halloween candy and caught up on housework.

I do feel bad about making fun of Bret now, though, (OK, not really, but I sort of feel bad for not feeling bad...maybe?) because I'm about to do what he's been doing: blame my family.

But at least I'm blaming all of them and not singling them out. I'm blaming genetics. Tomorrow I'm going to an endocrinologist to see if I have PCOS, poly cystic ovarian syndrome.  So I read up on it and guess what the number one symptom is?

Fatassitis.

Yup, I might actually have a gland problem making me fat!!

But where it gets fuzzy is that one of the main things you can do to treat it is to "loose" weight.

Vicious bitch of a cycle.

So while looking at the treatments, I was thinking, "OK, this doesn't sound so bad." But then I got to the last couple of treatments, one of which is OVARIAN DRILLING!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, for the record, I don't want anyone drilling my ovaries, except for Jason Statham...and TBM, or course.

So with that in mind, I joined the fatass gym (aka Planet Fitness) and am going to try and get on the ball. The last thing I want is to not do my part to get better and then have to resort to Ovarian Drilling...

Unless Jason calls that is.

Lorraine says:
Wife, I know all too well what you're going through. I also suspect that I have PCOS, and it's where all my effed-up body problems stem from. And yep, fatassitis certainly is on that list.

I, however, hate doctors. HATE. As much as I love chocolate? That's how much I hate doctors.
Or... let's see... you know how much I hate Bret? I hate doctors just a little less than that.

After a round of the vag doctor sending me to an endocrinologist who sent me back to a vag doctor who decided I needed a super special vag doctor, I took a little break from trying to figure out what was wrong with me. And from all the rape.

I, however, didn't know about ovarian drilling which makes the medical rape seem less daunting. I'll call my doctor tomorrow.

She'll be happy to know, I'm sure, that I'm working on the fattassy part of it already! Complete with a non-support group.

"I have this whole group of people doctor, who mention Zebra Cakes at every turn, who rhyme my name with whore, who are racist against my colors and who wish me no luck at all. It's amazing."

Yup.

Lily says:
Yay! ONE POUND CLUB!

I suspect there some ovary issue in me too... but, much like Lor, I dislike doctors. And why go to a doctor when I can go to a witch doctor and get the evil spirits slapped out of my body with palms?! Right?

Bret says:
Wow, I'm thinking I need to get my vag checked out to see if it's making me fat.

Oh, and if ovarian drilling worked, Lor would be 75 pounds. Ever read one of her blog posts? "So back when I was sleeping with this guy..."

Lorraine says:
I've met you Bret, and the first thing I thought was, "this guy has a vagina."

In fact, soon after returning home from visiting Bret, one of my friends who won't be named asked me if perhaps you played for the all-sausage team and didn't quite know it yet.

Lor: He has a girlfriend. They've been dating for a few years.
Friend: YEAH, that's the not knowing it part...

I know you aren't gay Bret. Maybe only for Bear.

Plus, you totally tried to sleep with me. Have you guys ever noticed how concerned Bret is about who I sleep with? It's because I totally turned his advances down. I knew, even then, that sleeping with Bret wouldn't help my cause as that would've been something akin to ovarian tickling.

Lily says:
In the words of all my ghetto friends... "DAMN BRET, YOU JUST GOT TREATED". But yeah, we should all take a Blogging Blobs field trip to the OB/GYN office place death bed. Lor, W, Bret and me. And then TBM can pick us up and tell us we're all going to be okay.

TBM says:
I am supportive like that.

People Who Don't Like Mushrooms Are Idiots

Bret Says:


274, two more pounds gone, and in a week like this, that's a very good thing.

MY dad was in town and my dad, taking his thyroid medicine so that he had good metabolism, still weighs in the vicinity of 250 pounds.  This is because he eats like a horse.  A horse with a serious eating disorder wherein the horse eats everything.

Thus we went to several nice restaurants where I struggled not to overeat myself as much as I could, an occasionally failed.  This one place had these Portobello Mushroom fries that--oh my god.  They are huge pieces of Portobello, breaded and fried, and served with mushroom sauce.  I knew I didn't stand a chance and told my dad he had to order two servings as an appetizer.  Then I went at them like a vacuum cleaner.  Frankly, it was fabulous.

Then there was yesterday.  I had to go to several meetings with my boss, so we were on the road a lot and had to stop for fast food for lunch.  I requested Chick-Fil-A because as far as drive-thrus go, it is by far the healthiest.  I ordered just a sandwich in an attempt to be a good guy, however when I opened my bag I saw a package of fries in there.  I think they just figured that they misheard me.  A person my size logically must have fries.  Well, I'll tell you something, I don't even like their french fries.  But I'm also not one to let free food to go to waste.  I went to town on those babies.

I also had a small piece of dark chocolate yesterday, but it was on purpose, it's good for stress relief.  I feel a bit of guilt, but I'm not sure if I should.

ANYWAY, I am walking a half an hour every day on my lunch whenever I am at the office, and since it is the playoffs I am playing softball a few days a week.  I was catcher last night (don't get any ideas Bear) and I had to squat for 2 hours.  THAT is exercise.  I haven't been able to move since then, and let me assure you I play HARD.  It's ridiculous how much I'm willing to kill myself for an amateur softball game.  It really just shows how little I have to live for in life.

Lor says:

Aren't those horse eating disorders genetic?

 

Thankfully, your account of STILL OVEREATING wasn't very tempting to me this week. Mushrooms = fungus = ew.

 

I feel like we learn so much about each other in these posts. You not having much to live for just heads right back to the being fat thing. What do you do when you have no friends and make up a girlfriend and enjoy being the catcher and have lonely heart attacks?

 

YOU EAT. You reach for another serving because the food? The food will never leave you lonely.

 

There, there Bret. You Hoover all the fungus you want. I understand. 

Bear Says:

Oh Bret...I've already been having those ideas you naught boy.  Lets not forget my fascination with sausage and the consumption of sausage.

But really...first you blame your fat ass on your grand parents and now your father?  At least that seems a little more reasonable.

From what you're telling us, it seems that he's the man that taught you everything you need to know to attain the title of Fattest Ass in the World.  Poor you...no metabolism.

But look on the bright side...at least you're not addicted to Zebra Cakes and/or Vodka.  That should make this whole diet thing much easier for you.

Bret Says:

No Lor, I don't consider myself an emotional eater.  I like to think that I can find any excuse to eat tons of food, no real reasons required.

And my life did have worth until I started talking to you.  Our conversations have left me a hollow and vapid human being as I struggle through constant boredom and attempt to not completely "loose" my mind.

And Bear, while a month ago I would have said that I would never let you "pitch" to me, now that I'm on a diet and doing things I would normally never do, like take the stairs, I am starting to wonder just how many calories I might burn if we played a little "preacher and choir boy."

That's right, I'm in this for real.  If I have to go on the anal ripping diet, so be it.

Home Is Where The Food Is

Lorraine Says: In some ways, I think that quitting food is quite like quitting smoking.

Not that I would really know, seeing as how I've never been a smoker, but I have heard it said that half the battle is overcoming the habit. WORD.

To explain better, there's a little bit that you should know about me. If Bret's racism wasn't a big enough clue, I'm brown. More specifically both of my parents are Dominican. My mother is one of 17 total children (that includes half brothers and sisters) and my father is one of 22 (and that includes your mom. Seriously. That family tree is so fucked, I wouldn't doubt it.)

Essentially: big Dominican family. That said, my mother raised me on two rules about food:

1.) Never, ever, ever ask for food at other people's houses. It doesn't matter if you are starving. It doesn't matter if this food is for children in Africa. It doesn't matter if it is a stranger or your aunt, don't fudgin' do it.

2.) If food is offered to you, politely decline once. If they insist, eat it. It doesn't matter if you aren't hungry. It doesn't matter if you don't like it. It doesn't matter if you are allergic to it. Suck it up, and eat it.

To say that food is a big part of our family dealings would be an understatement. We do everything to food. We celebrate everything with food. For every person that steps across the threshold of our house, another pot of coffee is made.

I thought about this on Sunday night as I laughed with my cousins about our other cousin who has become rather unfortunate looking since becoming pregnant. I laughed and laughed into my giant cup of coffee. Mid-sip, I thought, FUDGE, I'm supposed to be quitting coffee.

It hadn't even registered up until that point. It was habit: people are here, pour me some coffee. You offered me a slice of something? Eat it. Bored at work? Reach for the chocolate. These are the things I've been fighting against.

And it isn't easy at all.

Despite that, however, I've did good-ish! Not Bear-Grease-Coma-good (as is evidenced by my presence on this blog. Seriously. Where the hell are Bear and Mrs. Bear?) but actually good. 

Failures:
-Two cups of coffee. A frozen thingy with Rox before we went shopping Saturday and the gossip coffee on Sunday night.
- I had chocolate 4 days out of this past week instead of 3 days. Which is still pretty amazing if you ask me.

Success:
- I lost three pounds.

Yes, BRET. That is lost as in lose, as in you can suck a fat one because I still hate you for nitpicking on that. Stupid head.

Lily, your one pound looks all lonely. Might want to step up your game. Or, you know, drink your sorrows away.

--------------------------------------------

Bret Says: Quitting food is harder than quitting smoking.  You HAVE to eat to survive.  Going Cold Turkey makes you look like a holocaust survivor.  Thus with eating, multiple times a day you have to make a smart decision, and that's hard.

And let's not even get into the fact that you have to exercise to do this right.

Smokers are pussies.  They have two choices.  Yes or No.  Yes is always wrong, and No is always right.

That's right, 2 choices.  Whereas for we fat people, Ben and Jerry's has well over 32,000 flavors, of which at least 17 include tobacco, so really it's like we have to quit smoking as well.

And while I am honestly proud of you and your 3 pounds loosed, I must say that in reality you don't stand a chance.  From your own words:

"Mid-sip, I thought, FUDGE, I'm supposed to be quitting coffee."

Yup, even when you are profane it involves chocolate.  Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe it's a crude allusion to gay sex.  For your diet's sake, let's hope that's it.


Bear Says: Sorry all...I've had a really busy week here at the office.  I'm currently stuck between 2 teams on my project and trying to meet the standards for both is proving to be time consuming.

Lor!  3 pounds is fudging awesome!!  I mean I can't fudging believe that you've lost that much fudging weight in a fudging week.

I mean I'm super fudging impressed.  And fudge that fudger Bret.  He's just a fudging motherfudger.  Fudge him!!

BROWNIE!!


Lor Says: It's okay Bear. We know that you often play for two teams and that you are consumed by trying to please them both. See what I did there?

Bret, remember when I said "moist" and it made you all happy in the pants, or something? That's what Ben and Jerry's just did for me. I'll skip the tobacco flavors though, because imagine having to quit smoking AND food. It would never happen. Well, just look at Lily; she's trying to quit drinking and eating and well... "her scale is broken."

I didn't loose pounds. I don't know why, but I always relate pounds to you Bret. And to loose your pounds... EW. Dammit why do these things always revert back to terrible mental images.


Lily Says: I feel that this is going to be Bret going on a racist rant again.... feel free to use that tag, Lor.

Yes. Congrats on the 3 lbs. My one pound may be lonely... but it's gone and pretty sure it has found it's way to Bret.


The Wife Says: Sorry I went MIA yesterday guys.  My white guilt had me so horrified by Bret's racism that I couldn't take part (plus meeting, doctors visits, etc.).

Lor, I'm beginning to think that maybe I'm not as pasty white as I thought I was.  Maybe there's some brown blood in my family somewhere, because I can totally relate to your mother's rules. 

A third rule of my mom's was always offer your guests something to eat (the less healthy the better), so I also have some enabling in my genes, too.  TBM has a healthy dose of that, too, though.  He just sent me an e-mail with a recipe for Sopapilla Cheesecake.

God, this is going to be a tough week.


Lorraine Says: Lily, I think we should all wish our lost pounds on Bret.

Wife, Bear is obviously sabotaging you. 3 Muskateers tortillas, Joseph's Bakery, Cheesecake recipes and.. well.. you can admit it: Lackluster sex lately, right? Just really lazy, non-calorie burning sex.

It's a conspiracy, Wife.

Also, offering your guests a diabetic coma is a must for my family as well.


Bret Says: I'm not sure if this has already posted or not, but i'll try to throw this in anyway...did anyone notice that Bear said he was "stuck between two teams at the office?"  Now I understand why Bear needs to lose weight...

Also, if you think I'm racist he called Lor a "brownie."  I don't mind Hispanics.  I think they should get the same opportunities as the rest of us, but not really in the same vicinity.  I call it "seperate but equal."


Lor Says: "Seperate but equal" is what I call your multiple servings at dinner.

Bah! Broken Scales Suck

Lily Says: So, this past week I partook in a little Ethiopian diet, no sleep, super stress, and only eating goldfish and water.

I stepped on the scale, and I only lost one pound. WTF?! Am I using Bret's scale? I think so. I don't even know how it's possible to have only lost so little considering my intake was close to nothing.

Dieting is harder than I thought when you're not being aided. I went to GNC and thought about buying diet pills. But I remember taking those guys in high school and feeling like I was going to have a heart attack, I decided not to get them and just buy some meal replacements since I can't always be near a place where I can buy or make food, so a bottle of water + meal replacement = actual substance in my tummy.

Let's at least go for two pounds shed next week.


Lorraine Says: One pound coming from the girl who was having sex for 24 hours?! I think you're doing it wrong. Maybe not enough Poo?

Also, I thought about using some sort of aid. I mean, I come from a Dominican background and we've got a remedy/plant/tea/aunt with pills FOR EVERYTHING.

I mentioned to my cousin that I was trying to loose weight and she fished out a little green "Chinese pill" from her purse that she told me to try out and see if I wanted more, wink, wink.

That green pill is still on my dresser looking at me. I'm afraid guys. I'm very afraid.

Also, when I read that you were eating goldfish, I immediately assumed you meant like little alive, swimmy, goldfish. Which is actually better than if you mean those cheesy montronsities known as Goldfish. I FUDGIN' HATE THOSE.

Goldfish are the food of hell. 

Lily Says: I think I lost more, but I gained it back because we had super Mexican food on Sunday which really translate to, I ate alot of rice. 

But, this week = 48 hours of sex....

Bret Says: I think Lily only lost a pound because for at least 24 hours she was shoving everything she could inside of her.  I'm just not talking about her mouth...

and Lor, I'm sorry I have to do this, but by God did you ignite a pet peeve of mine.

It's LOSE not LOOSE.  LOSE.  LOSE.  One O.  LOSE.

Lose is when you no longer have something you previously had, or when you don't finish in first in a competition.

Loose is what you are on Saturday nights.

Lily Says: Bret, we're Hispanic... sometimes when we say words, they sound like other things... But remember that one time that I edited your blog post? That was fun.

Also, please take back your scale. I'm sure I lost more than one pound. Your stupid scale is broken and is proving so. 

Lorraine Says: SERIOUSLY?!

Is that what we're doing now, is nitpicking spelling and grammar? Because I'm pretty sure if I just go back...

This is something you sent us yesterday:

"I'm still trying to figure out it what way you meant "little stroke" though either might be accurate."

SHUT THE FUCK UP ASSHAT. If you need help figuring out how to, stuff a sausage down your throat and hold.

And that's funny, I saw you on a Saturday and turned down your sexual advances, so I must not be that loose. 

Bret Says: My God, look at you little vultures.

I could have pointed out millions of things, but didn't because we all make mistakes, however I cannot stand "loose" for lose.  It must be stopped.

Of course this is a silly conversation, the only word the two of you will need to know is the word "gain."

As in, "When my uncle threw the Kit-Kat bar on the ground I bent over to eat it and it caused me to gain two pounds.  Also, since he took me from behind I am now carrying his incestual fetus.  Does anyone know a Hispanic abortionist, or should I just ask some of the drug cartels to shoot me in the stomach?  Hey!  Maybe that's the one way I could actually lose weight!  Oh excuse me, my silly uncle just dropped a nutter butter."

Now you try.

Lorraine Says:  Nobody cares what you can't stand.

What must be stopped are your lonely heart attacks, the lie you keep spreading about having a girlfriend, your frequent visits to just outside of Lily's window, and that second helping of everything.

Get back to me on my typo when all these things are accomplished.

And putting together that nifty little example you used about gaining weight, plus the fact that you love sausage plus the fact that you gained 16 pounds right at the start of this all, I'd venture to say that you know a thing or two about dropped Kit Kats and taking it from behind.

(This would be a good place to insert the definition of "loose," as in, your asshole.)

Bret Says: Whore.

Lily Says: So, sorry I posted this shit so late. My intention was to post this at school... but that fucking shit is always down. And for the two minutes the network actually works, it loads facebook and then it says you're not connected. 

PS. Where are Mr & Mrs TBM?!

The Cake is a Lie

TBM says: Well...I actually managed to have a pretty good week, at least on the eating front.  I still haven't joined a gym yet, but I did go for a jog yesterday morning and I plan to go on another one today.  I think tomorrow the Wife and I will be going over to Planet Fitness so that we can remove the bad weather excuse from our dependable list of reasons to not go workout.

I did manage to get some extra exercise this weekend though.  The Wife decided that Saturday we'd do all those things that she's wanted to do since we moved out here.  So we went antiquing, to a Japanese Tea Garden, and then shopping at the mall.  All of which included a great deal of walking.  On Sunday, we did some more walking at the Lackland Air Show.  Which was actually really really cool.  Got to go in some of the bigger plans and we got to see a lot of awesome aerial acrobatics.  (I love alliteration.)

I think our only issue the whole weekend was Joseph's Bakery.  Apparently, they're the best bakery in town and now that we've tried their chocolate cake I fully understand why. It was this super dense, moist, awesome cake and instead of frosting there was a thin layer of chocolate fudge with pecans on top.  It was fucking amazing.  It was so rich we almost couldn't finish it.  But we pulled through.  I'm pretty sure it still wasn't as many calories as, say a whole box of Zebra Cakes.  Or 2 pieces of lasagna.

But now that I think about it the cake wasn't my only issue of the week...I also came up with a cheesesteak quesadilla that was super greasy and awful for me.  Mmmm...grease...

Lorraine says:  You guys, I'm gonna be really fudgin' honest right now: I love this blog, I tolerate all of you guys, losing weight is awesome, but I'm not sure I can do this.

Is this really what I'm in for?! I log onto my mail Monday morning to find a description of the most moist, dense, awesome CHOCOLATE cake ever invented? When I haven't even had breakfast yet and obviously amazing cake would be so fitting right now?

Eff you TBM, and your "pretty good week." It wasn't pretty good. It was terrible, horrible, no good, very bad and not even a sausage in sight for all your troubles.

Lily says: There, there, Lor. Here's a Zebra Cake.

TBM, why didn't we get cake?

Witless Exposition says: What he didn't tell you about was the two glasses of beer he had last night.  They probably equal a loaf of bread a piece.  He likes his beer dark and rich just like he likes his women...wait, yeah, doesn't quite work here.

Bret says:  Just a little math for everyone to follow along with: "super dense, moist, awesome cake and instead of frosting there was a thin layer of chocolate fudge with pecans on top" + "super greasy cheesesteak quesadilla" + "two dark and rich beers" + "Whatever he has just forgotten about due to a grease coma" = "pretty good week."

Gosh Bear, I still can't figure out why you are fat.  It must be a hormone problem.

I also like that your idea of exercise is shopping, or looking at a garden, or really moving in any way.  This includes going to an air show because, I dunno, you had to occasionally crane your head up to look at some planes?  Was it really that strenuous to take your eyes off of the corn dog cart?

That's all I have right now.  Frankly after I read that Lor said "moist" I lost all control of my motor functions.

TBM says: In my defense the garden is in a damn quarry...so there was lots of stair climbing and such to go along with the walking in general.  I think we spent like an hour wondering around the thing.

Lorraine says: Does losing control of your motor functions hinder your dieting ability? Because I will moist all over your screen if it means that I win.

I'm not sure when this even turned into a competition but I am oh-so fond of saying that I win.

I love blaming hormones on being fat. Also, other favorites include "slow metabolism" and "big boned." So, how about it Bear? Are you big boned?

TBM says: Ask the Wife about the bone situation :P

Bret says: The Wife has informed me that Bear is in fact not big boned.  Not big boned at all.  If he were, maybe they'd both weigh a little less.

And if anything losing control of my motor functions helps me diet.  It's like an enema.  Sort of like any picture of Lily.

Lorraine says: Okay, fuck, I take it back. Can we stop talking about Bear's bones now? Because:

1.) I wasn't talking about THAT. Gross
b.) Bear is the sausage expert, so if I had any questions on meat (which I won't) (ever) I'd ask him (not that I ever, ever will.) (Hear that Wife? RESPECT.)
and cat.) Ewwwwww.

Bret, I'm really disappointed that I wasted so much moisture if this doesn't even help my cause at all.

And stop with the Lily thing. We all know that the image of her in that booze-stained white polo is exactly what your wet dreams are made of.

Not that that really eliminates the poo aspect. Sex-poo IS the new diet craze.

Witless Exposition says: Yeah, we probably should ease up on using words like bone and moist around Bret.  He might get too excited and...well I just think it'd be pretty embarrassing to have the EMTs find him like that.

Although that would take out some of the competition. Hmmmm.....

Moist, moist, moist, bone, moist moist.

TBM says: I wasn't going to mention the sexercise, but certainly it warrants some mention as it burns a shit load of calories.  Plus...maybe Bret will have a little stroke thinking about it.

Bret says: I'm still trying to figure out what way you meant by "little stroke" though either might be accurate.

How to become a Weeble

Witless Exposition says: So compared to everyone else’s week I feel like a let down for the last post of the week.  I mean I wasn’t deep throating sausages, in a drunken stupor, sucking down zebra cakes, or having heart attacks in the privacy of my own, lonely hovel.

No, instead I just lived my normal, horribly unhealthy lifestyle that has led me to look something like this:

I even went the extra step this week  to keep a food diary.  I was hoping my own private humiliation would help prepare me for today’s post.  Here’s the rough breakdown.

Healthy breakfasts: 5--hell yeah! Healthy cereal, coffee, and a handful of vitamins to get me through the day.

Healthy lunches: hum, yeah, 1-a salad

Thrown together lunches made from whatever I could cobble together: 4, including a wrap made with laughing cow cheese, random vegetables from the veg drawer that hadn’t grown any fuzz yet, and some old lunch meat.  I’m pretty sure it hadn’t expired.

Healthy dinners: 5--I did pretty good.  Since this was the only meal TBM and I eat together, I think we were both watching each other suspiciously enough to eat relatively well.

Tootsie Rolls: 10--that’s not too bad, right?  I mean that was over a whole week!

Three Musketeers: um, I don’t think I’d like to talk about this one.

You see, halfway through the week I had an awful idea. A wonderful, awful idea.

It involved melted three musketeers spread over a tortilla. (Thanks again, Lily).  So, TBM, if you’ve been wondering why we’ve gone through tortillas so quickly this week, now you know.

Exercise, you ask? Oh wait, you didn’t ask, because you know better, don’t you?

Yeah, no exercise this week, instead I sat at my desk all week desperately trying to crank out words for my NaNo novel.  Which is usually pretty bad for your health all the way around.  You see there are two types of writers.  Ones that look like this:

Because food is for phonies (Let’s see how many get that one) as is human contact. So they die sad and alone.

Or ones that look like this:

Because they just can’t say no to that next drink or extravagant meal. Doesn’t sound bad, right? Nope, they’re the ones that end up drinking (or shooting) themselves to death.

Being a writer’s so cheerful.  So let’s see if I can be a little more like JD and less like ol’ Hemi next week.  

---------------------------------------------------------------

Bret says: So let me get this straight:  We have had a diet blog for just over a week now, and the sum total of influence that we have had over one another is that Lily influenced you to melt 3 Musketeers bars over tortillas?

Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

It is apparent that this blog is going to be wildly successful at changing all of us--and the world with our new wonderful eating habits.  It should also do wonders for M and M Mars' stock.

Witless Exposition says: I think the competition has gotten a bit smaller.  Lily has obviously died in a gutter somewhere.

Lily says: Uh... NOT DEAD. I was working on my cardio. wink wink hint hint

Yeah.

Lorraine says: LILY WAS HAVING SEX. 

I feel like sex should be a key ingredient for all in this diet. Except for Bret who shouldn't be allowed to have sex until he's down to one serving of lasagna. Ew, nevermind. Bret should never be allowed to have sex, ever. 

Lily says: Yay! Lor wins a prize! Unfortunately for her, it's a lifetime supply of Zebra Cakes.

Witless... I have like 3 packs of tortillas that won't get eaten. Should I mail them your way? I feel bed because I mean... that's what I would have eaten throughout this week. And I don't want to throw them away. That's 75 cents down the drain. :( 

Witless Exposition says: I vote we give them to Bret.  I have a Mexican lasagna recipe that should take care of the nine pounds of poo he lost.

Lorraine says: Going into the weekend, can we all just resolve TO STOP TALKING ABOUT POO? I may have started it by merely pointing out TBM's painful shits diet, but if there's something I like even less then the thought of you all sexing, it's you all pooping. 

Lily says: HAhahahaha, Oh Lorraine! But yeah, let's limit the poo talk. It's not hot. Kthanx.

TBM says: At least we're not pooing and sexing at the same time. Although I bet that would be pretty good for weight loss.

Bret says: If this is a diet blog, and I can't talk about poo, then I might as well quit.  Because that is my main strategy for losing weight.

Also, if Lily was having sex, that must mean she finally finished that bottle of tequila and wanted to put it to other uses.

Lily says: If I were to cheat on my bf.... I would cheat with a bottle of VODKA... or GIN. Duh... "is it too early for a martini" is the name of my blog... not "is it too early for a margarita".

Bret says: Well considering you were apparently having sex for 24 hours before you could make time to respond, I would quit this "is it too early" stuff and start worrying about being late...

Lily says: Yeah, two hours short of a marathon. Look, don't hate cuz I be getting some and you're giving more action to your toilet. And, I'm sending you 3 packs of tortillas, and maybe a loaf of bread.

9 Pounds O' Poo

Bret Says: I honestly thought dieting would be easy, but I knew I was screwed on day one when I woke up upset.  I mean, plenty of time I don't even eat breakfast and it has no affect on me at all, however last Thursday I woke up hungry and pissed off that I had to be healthy.  That sucked...

I will tell you that I woke up 285, and as of Monday when I could last weigh myself I was 276.  This is probably a testament to the continuing saga of my scale most likely being broken, but honestly I had a pretty healthy week.  In fact, the worst part was Halloween night.  Not because of there being candy all around me but because after eating vegetarian chili and walnuts I thought I was having a heart attack.  Seriously.  My chest hurt, my left arm was pounding, I couldn't breath, and I basically just laid in bed in agony for hours on end.  I knew I wouldn't die, I'm too young to actually die of a heart attack, however one thought kept going through my head.  "I haven't eaten meat today."

I promise you if the last day of my life is to be worth anything, I will have eaten meat at some point.  Meat is awesome.  

I haven't had any major urges, but I haven't been great either.  I took a trip to my grandparents house, people who are so cheap they never ever buy healthy food.  They basically only serve fried hunks of those abused animals in that Sarah McGlaughlin commercial that plays all of the time.

Still, on the way down I stopped at Wendy's.  Yes, I had a cheeseburger, but NO FRIES.

I was pretty good at my grandparents also, until Wednesday.  I had a huge breakfast, but it was all from guilt.  My Grandparents are mocked for their cheapness all of the time, and as a result they are hurt if you don't eat their often expired food.  So I had a double helping of my Grandpa's sausage, and I had a few biscuits with jelly on them because he kept insisting.

Yes Bear, out of guilt I kept shoving my Grandpa's sausage in my mouth, and I swallowed down his jelly.  At least mine wasn't for pleasure.

Also for dinner we had lasagna.  I love lasagna.  I am like Garfield in that way, only less active.  Still, I wanted to limit myself to one serving of lasagna and one piece of garlic bread.  And I am proud to say I succeeded wildly.  I was very proud of myself for my restraint, and it really showed me that I can beat this thing after all.  Thus, with this happy news I decided to reward myself.

With another helping of lasagna and another piece of garlic bread.

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TBM Says: So let me get this straight...your reward for not being a total fat ass and gorging yourself on lasagna was to go ahead and gorge yourself on lasagna?  Man...I wish I was as misguided as you.

I mean seriously...the next thing you're going to tell us is that you ate a pack of cookies and because, you're fucking awesome, and didn't eat a second pack of cookies, that you instead ate a whole damn case.

Bravo Bret...bravo.

Lorraine Says: Bret has already said some pretty mean things on this blog. I mean, he talked bad about my thighs. If you know nothing else, please know that Bret is a mean bastard because he talked about my thighs.

 
And that was probably the worst thing he's said... up until this point. He just blamed his fat-assness on HIS GRANDPARENTS. 
 
Now, I know nothing about his g-parents, but I do know the town they live in, which might as well be called "Retirement Town for the Infirm and Innocent Elderly Who Love Their Graindkids, Florida." Bret can't control his eating and he blames his grandparents who are feeding him out of the kindness of their hearts (because if I were as cheap as Bret claims they are, and I had a super-sized grandkid, I wouldn't even open the door.)
 
Also, Bret lost weight, but I'm choosing not to even recognize it. Why? HE PACKED ON WEIGHT BEFORE THIS ALL STARTED. Do you remember him saying that? He purposefully gained 16 pounds before starting the diet. I'm not acknowledging your weightloss BRET until you're back to pre-I-ate-McDonalds-four-times-a-day-for-a-week-weight. Got that?
 
It's like if I gain a pound every weekend and lose it every week and come back and tell you about all these single pounds I'm losing. We'll be here FOREVER. Well, some of us will. Lily will be dead. 
 
Don't even get me started on "your grandpa's sausage." Sick. 

 Witless Says: You know, I really thought I'd pull out the stops today, seeing as how I know Bret's a big boy and can take the heat.

But then when I saw how sad and pathetic his week was, I thought I'd spare him.  I mean really, while Lil was out getting drunk, Lor was debating the merits of Zebra cakes with Rox, and TBM and I were guzzling sausage:

Bret was by himself having a heart attack.  

Guys, we came this close to actually knowing someone who died in their apartment and wasn't discovered until weeks later.

Bret Says: Alright Bear, let's get this straight.  I ate two helpings of lasagna.  2.  Not 15.  This is a substantial improvement for me O.K.?

Lor: The weight counts, but I completely acknowledge why it is that I lost it.  It's not because I was healthy.  It's because natural processes occurred and I was frequently in the bathroom and dropping off 3 pounds of chicken fingers at a time.  Still, I wasn't replacing it with 4 pounds, so I'm proud.

Witless: I guarantee you I would be found way before that.  The smell that a produce while alive has been known to kill cows on contact.  If I were dead it would cause all of central Florida to become some sort of Chernobyl.

Lily:  WHERE ARE YOU YOU DUMB WHORE?  I assume you are lying on the pavement bloated and drooling somewhere stinking of tequila with ding dongs sticking out of your mouth.

AND I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT THE HOSTESS PRODUCT!

WE HAVE ONLY JUST BEGUN....