O.K. O.K. Enough of those boring people. Let's talk about me.
270. A 5 pound drop calls for a picture.
Only it's not really a 5 pound drop. My broken scale says 270. My roommates good scale says 266.8. I'll stick with 270 up until I actually get a new scale in which case I can drop several pounds instantly. Nice.
I did very well this week. I ate healthy with every fricking meal. Every one. I walked every single day, and I played softball which has made me hurt like hell. My only slip was today I ate pizza, but I did so because it was free. Frankly I would chug free acid if offered. Free is always more important than any diet.
So here I am, galloping past the Bear, continuing to be the only person on this blog that, you know, loses any sort of weight. Next week perhaps with a new scale I can give you a 265 picture.
As for the pictures, I wore the same clothes to see a real comparison, but I'm sure you won't be able to. At my highest I was 285 and I looked...the exact same. It doesn't matter how much weight I lose, I look like what I look like. I'm fairly certain I could lose a leg, and no one would notice. Still, the women like to see me, and that's who I do this for, so...
Oh, now that I've looked at the photo, I am reminded of this weeks' most important weight loss event of all. I got my haircut. By a lunatic. Still, less weight on top of my head.
Lily, enjoy all the cardio that I'm sure will go with looking at that photo.
Lily Says...
Bret, Cardio doesn't involve looking at pictures. Obviously, you're doing it wrong. No wonder your blow up doll is whoring around. C'mon dude.
Also, stop using broken scales. You know they lie.
Note to self: Give Bret acid. He likes free things.
Lor Says...
So, I'm pretty sure Bear won't admit to this but he was pretty sad earlier now that Bret weighs less than he does.
There, there, Bear. The solutions is obvious: Bret. Likes. Free. Things. If he doesn't have a mailbox full of sausage by tomorrow, I'll be highly disappointed in you.
There, there, Bear. The solutions is obvious: Bret. Likes. Free. Things. If he doesn't have a mailbox full of sausage by tomorrow, I'll be highly disappointed in you.
Big Fat Bear Says...
My only worry was about poisoning him with spoiled sausage...now that I know he's into acid I'll be sending him some sausage made with year old coffee grounds.
After all...free is free.
Slightly Disappointing Says...
Hey Bear, I heard you were diagnosed with "spoiled sausage."
After all...free is free.
Slightly Disappointing Says...
Hey Bear, I heard you were diagnosed with "spoiled sausage."