More Success.

Even after a Mardi Gras party that I think has to be characterized as a blowout, I managed to shave another 1.4 pounds off my enormous frame. Hopefully, I will look less and less like a giant king cake baby as time goes on.

Anyway, the way I handled things this year was I completely ignored my weekly allotment of special points all week -- knowing that they'd all be used up in food and drink on Saturday. Plus, I added more points into the mix by going to the gym a few times, and exercising at home a bit, too. (Also, Sunday was a pretty light eating day, for understandable reasons.)

In honor of this particular Mardi Gras party--and its terrifying guest of honor, a crystal skull that so many of us were drinking god knows what from--here's that 1.4 pounds, represented in a hand-crafted tiger-eye skull.

Ghost Rider, eat your heart out.

And in profile!

I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.

And it can be yours for $3,000 bucks or so!

Rob

Lost Three Pounds!

That's a backpack. (No butter included.)

It's kind of nice thinking I stopped carrying a backpack this week. Now if I could just get rid of this baby kangaroo...

Rob

Bear-Ass Naked

The other day I was at the gym (I know!) and while I was listening to my audiobook (Stephen King's Duma Key), I got to witness a long commercial for giant teddy bears. Which means it must be Valentine's Day.

In the commercial, gorgeous women were presented by a giant stuffed bear (only $99!), and would hug it and squeeze it and fall against it on the couch, or jump into bed with it.

Now, I couldn't hear the sound. But I could read the look in the eyes of all these beautiful women. And--I swear this is only 20% imagination--that look said:

"I'm going to fuck the stuffing out of this bear... and you can watch!"

The photo above is actually less lascivious than the impression I got from the commercial, which can be viewed here.

So, happy Valentine's Day. 'Specially you, silly old bear.

Rob

Square One

I found out the last time I tried this that if I don't do this publicly, I won't have any success at all. So I went back to Weight Watchers today, after who knows how long flailing about without it, which followed several half-hearted attempts to return. I've been exercising a bit these past few weeks, and now it's time to work on the intake. Got in, weighed myself (in clothing): 248.2 pounds. Which means that, after all the time I spent since I first tried this, I've lost .6 pounds.

Woo. hoo.

You know what weighs 248.2 pounds?

This 92-cubic-foot Rubbermaid shed, that's what.

They will bury me in this someday.

It's 10 by 10 -- I weigh essentially as much as a small room in Dungeons and Dragons. Too small to fit the whole party in it, but big enough to fit eight kobolds.

Holy crap, I've got a long way to go.

Rob