Where to start is always my most complicated problem.  I can never make a concrete decision. As an adult I still almost always rely on someone to make the decisions for me. New meds, she gave me an ultimatum of sorts. Problems with my health, she schedules the appointments and makes me go. How do I get to a point where I hold myself accountable? Every day my ass gets wider and wider. It makes me sick. I have a gym membership. I find a new reason EVERY SINGLE DAY to not go. I’ve been a total of twice in the past three months. Before that it was a couple years. I justify in my own mind lots of things that are unacceptable. I know it. I just don’t know how to change it. I recently was told that it takes thirty days to break a bad habit/behavior. I’ve decided that I need to devote time to fixing me. Thirty days at a time. Hopefully in fixing me I can repair the marriage I am failing within. Rekindle a love that is slipping away.  Get off my ass and do something of a sort. Life seems to be passing me by with every excuse and every extra hour I spend in bed asleep. I will daily track my progress. Successes and failures. First thirty days the goal will be as follows:

1) Wake at 7am, Sleep at 11pm. If everyone else needs only 8 hours then I should follow suit.

2) On days I open, walk around the block of Moose’s bus stop (if it is a school day. otherwise it will be the front half of our development) Every other day I will depart from the bus stop after my walk and depart for the gym of where a minimum of 45 minutes will be spent. Fresh air has never killed anyone to my knowledge. Nor has hard work.

3) The wife and Moose are people I am the most unwilling to lose. Time will be spent with them as much as possible on the terms they see to.

MsDawnP derriere keeps getting more and more gorgeous with time… so round and sensual. I adore every single one of her dimples.

Wednesday 8 A.M. to 8:15 A.m. – the  pac-man monsters arrive for work.

later that morning the “pacmen” roll in. to find out they’re covering for the monsters today – who are all out sick…

“piece of cake”!!

(Well..cake most likely did play a role in it – but i think it was more than a piece…)

But Funny.

I have been thinking about food a lot lately, mainly because I haven’t went out to eat in months.  The recently opened a Sonic in Michigan, and all I keep reading about on Facebook is how some of my friends are going there.  I’m dying for a good burger and I am going through major burger withdrawal.  Burgers are a way of American life, and I love and worship them so much that I even have a key cap of a cheeseburger on my house key.  I came across this lovely picture of a cheeseburger from my trip to California a few years ago.  My very favorite burger place, In-N-Out Burger just happens to be about 2,500 miles away from my house, so there is no guarantee that I’ll be able to ever eat one again.  The last time I had one was in Vegas in 2003, and I’ve been thinking about having another one ever since. 

Just look at how damn yummy this burger looks.  You can almost taste it, can’t you?

If you could eat a burger right now, where would you go to get one?  I’d fly to Vegas to get this Double-Double, and die a happy woman.

 11:59 pm

7 Signs You’re Totaly Fat – AMERICA-  If you’re a fat guy in your late 20s or 30s, it’s pretty much a given that you’ve been fat your whole life.  Your dad is fat, your mom is fat, and your brothers and sisters are fat.  Hell, your whole goddamn family is fat.  If this is the case you’ve probably had other fat people telling you every day of your life that you’re fat and that you need to lose a bunch of weight before you sweat yourself into a coma.  Sure, you’ve tried the pee green soup diet, the Atkins starvation program diet, Nutri-Slim, Ultra- Slim, Nutri-Ultra-Slim and even dabbled with chrystal meth, but none of them seemed to work.  If you are still asking yourself why you can’t stop gorging yourself all day long, here are 10 reasons to wise up and lose a few hundred pounds, pronto.  

1.  You eat after 7 pm- Hell you eat before 7 p.m. too, and during, and after, and in between.

2.  You eat large meals every 3 hours- Slow down on the feed bucket Dumbo.  There’s plenty for later.

3.  You don’t let yourself get hungry.  How could you?  You stuff your fat face every minute of the day.

4.  You cheat on your diet more than you exercise-  Diet, exercise?  Ha, ha, ha, ha.  That’s a good one.

5.  You don’t follow your diet 6 days a week-  You don’t follow it ever.

6.  You eat 2000 calories a day.  Damn. That’s more than a kindergarten class a snack time tubby, with no nap time.

7.  Carbs are good-  If it doesn’t taste good, it’s not worth eating, in massive quantities. (http://health.yahoo.com/featured/63/weight-management-myths-debunked/)

So, if you’re a fat, lazy ass-stomach, you basically have two choices to start considering:  1. Go on a diet and live a long, healthy life or 2. Keep eating like a hippo in heat until your arteries explode.  If you want to live to see the Pittsburgh Pirates have a winnning season, or at least one where they don’t totally suck, hit the gym and start popping Ephedrine like they’re tic tacs.  If you enjoy a bucket of hot wings for breakfast a few days a week then keep on eating and packing on pounds.  What’s a little bypass surgery at 30?

In case you felt people weren’t paying quite enough attention to your weight-loss efforts, now you can auto-Tweet the progress you’re making on those jelly rolls and muffin tops. Withings, maker of a sleek iPhone-adapted body mass indexing scale have now built Twitter functionality right into their app. From a press release yesterday:

Withings is announcing Twitter integration into its first-of-its-kind WiFi Body Scale. As the world’s first WiFi connected personal weight scale, it automatically records the user’s body weight, lean & fat mass, and calculated body mass index (BMI) to their secure webpage and/or free Withings iPhone application, WiScale. Now, with this new added feature, users can set up alerts to automatically post their updates to Twitter accounts, further motivating them by sharing their progress with followers.

“This social media feature was the next logical step in the evolution of the WiFi scale for our customers,” said Cedric Hutchings, Withings General Manager. “Here at Withings we are committed to roll out new features and services on the field thanks to automatic updates. Adding this social functionality makes the WiFi scale by Withings the first true flagship of the Internet of Objects.”

I don’t know what the hell the Internet of Objects is, but apparently it includes your fat ass. Personally, if I’m going to have anyone following the state of my posterior, I’ll stick with black guys I pass on the sidewalk. They say I’m fine the way I am. No WiFi required.

Val sat in his oversized leather couch with a jar of marshmallow topping in one hand and a can of peanut brittle in the other.  Without breaking view on Top Gun,  the movie that made him famous, Val grabbed an ever succulent piece of peanut brittle and effortlessly scooped up a mound  of marshmallow topping on top of it and in one fluid motion, slipped it in the space between his once shiny veneers he had gotten years ago to appease a movie producer.

“I’m getting full”.  He thought to himself.

Several months ago, Val had embarked on a path of consuming anything that didn’t look threatening that now made him look like a sweaty, fat walrus without the tusks.  He wasn’t getting the same roles in movies that had once made him the guy girls wanted to be with and the man who guys wanted to be.  He used to date other celebrities, he used to make his female fans swoon and he used to have great hair.

He used to be awesome. 

Now he was just fat.

He looked especially fat in the picture of him that was snapped as he rested his laurels on the sandy beach in front of his property after a rough day of surfing in St. Tropaz.  It was a private beach on which he sat, made especially for celebrities of his stature.  Unfortunately, those people put in place to ensure Val’s privacy, didn’t realize that harmless woman pushing a 50’s style baby carriage were actually two paparazzi hell bent on catching the rumored “suddenly obese” Val Kilmer in a wet suit.

They made a pretty good pay day that day.

“That ain’t no baby” Val screamed in his mind!

“Assholes” he thought.

It was at that moment that he hungered for some smothered cheese fries and a Monte Cristo sandwich from Denny’s.

Spittle accumulated in the sides of his mouth and his stomach growled almost angrily. 

“TOODLES!!” he yelled while bits of spittle flew from his mouth. 

Almost immediately, his effeminate assistant descended from sliding down the fireman’s pole Val had installed several years earlier just because he was rich enough to do it.  Toodles cowered beneath Val’s line of sight while he reclined on his oversized couch.  He took Val’s order extremely carefully… knowing from past experience that if he were to screw something up… he may not see the sun for several days.  Upon completion of his order, Val summoned Toodles to get him his foodstuffs as fast as possible.  If he were back before the point of no return, Val would not “make it rain” on him.

After tiring from raising his voice in order to acquire his food, Val fast-forwarded through a Top Gun scene in which Tom Cruise really takes up a lot of screen time.

“Scientology”, he thought, “What a joke.”

If he had been doing something less mind-numbing than repeating his lines and reliving his glory moments as they emitted from the television, he might have noticed the cell phone in his pocket vibrating once to indicate a new text message.

It wasn’t until he leaned forward to pour himself another glass of melted malt balls that his phone fell from his pocket and nearly underneath the coffee table.

It had been a while since he had leaned forward to pick something up.  He carefully slid himself across the couch while trying to keep his head on the same plane as he had had it in for the past 12 hours.  A slight change in sea level for Val could result in severe nausea, vomiting or even death.

Upon successful recovery of his cell phone he noticed at that point he had a new text message.  He pressed the “read” button.

It read “Loved you in ‘At First Sight’”.

Not recognizing the number, Val mouthed the words “Who the hell is this?” to himself.

Several minutes earlier and several hundred miles to the east… two gentlemen giggled to themselves at the creativity of their text message.

“I bet he’s like ‘Who the hell is this?’” laughed the one gentleman who obviously knew his way around a gym, had drank his fair share of beer that night and smelled remarkably good thanks to his Old Spice deodorant.  “Maybe he thinks it’s Mena Suvari!”

“What’ll I do if he calls back?” shot back the other gentleman suddenly realizing what had just transpired.  “We just text messaged VAL KILMER!!” he said with a small twinge of fear in his voice.  There was something suddenly frightening to him about this whole episode.  Val was a man with power and men with power can hire people who can reach around the globe using only their mind and crush the skulls of the innocent if they want.  If Val wanted, he could do that to find the two of them.

“Dude, calm down.” said the better built gentleman.  “It’s a harmless prank.  Val doesn’t care.  He’s probably sitting there wondering what hot girl is on the other end of the phone sending him text messages!  Let’s have fun with this.  What are we going to say if he calls or texts back?”

This not-so-well thought out idea of texting the celebrity whose phone number he’d overheard a drunken Val Kilmer utter while attending a Washington DC election party suddenly made the other gentleman start to sweat.  His sweat mixed with the patchouli he’d bathed in several hours earlier making a sort of smell that made you want to say “sweet monkey balls what’s that smell!”  His well tanned face and arms started to quiver with a sort of nervous excitement.  He suddenly felt like he had to lay some cable. 

“Why does that always happen when I get nervous?” he thought to himself.

Despite the nervous excitement the well built gentleman had… his deodorant kept him dry and smelling good.  He also did not need to lay cable, rather… he had to break the seal.

After the sweet smelling deodorant gentleman returned from emptying his bladder, he saw the patchouli gentleman reading his phone in a heightened state of nervous energy.  He read the text out loud, “Val just asked ‘Who is this?!!!!!!!!!!!!!’”

WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT?  WILL VAL CALL THE TWO GENTLEMEN?  WILL THE TWO GENTLEMEN COLLAPSE UNDER THE PRESSURE OF TEXTING A CELEBRITY?  WILL I GIVE YOU VAL KILMERS CELL PHONE NUMBER TO TEXT HIM YOURSELF?  STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO TO FIND OUT!!

Tyra Banks says we should sleep in a bra and nothing else because we are in a constant battle with gravity but our vaginas need to breathe. I must say: she is right. But seeing as gravity has little affect on my chest (and I actually like to be able to expand and contract the cavity which houses my lungs) I ignore the bra part of her advice. I went to bed naked last night. It’s probably one of the most amazing things you can do. Maybe you know this already, but for those of you who don’t, even if you’re unlucky enough to not have a vagina, you need to try it. You won’t be sorry…unless someone walks in while you’re asleep and you’re a cover-kicker.

Tyra Banks has lots of other good advice. For example, you should always smize when your picture is being taken. To smize = to smile with your eyes. It’s basically advanced squinting. But don’t just squint, she’ll yell at you for that.

And you should be proud of your fat ass, but only after you’ve lost thirty pounds.

Furthermore, Ms. Banks thinks that, when you feel attacked by everyone, you shoud sit on the opposite side of the room from all of them and let them go around in a circle and say exactly how you’ve hurt them.

Also, Tyra Banks was rooting for you–we were all rooting for you! And she has never in her life yelled at a girl like this!

Take responsibility for yourself. So sayeth Tyra.

Anyway, sleep naked.

The Meat-Up

Ground Beef, topped with 2 pepperoni logs, stuffed with Cheez Whiz, topped with a layer of bacon, topped with a layer of mozzarella cheese slices, topped with more bacon, topped with meatballs and served with brown gravy.

via This is Why You’re Fat

Day 5–HALLOWEEN!

Today started great–woke up feeling super duper.  Went to bed early last night (which for me is 1am) and woke up way early too (7:30am).

You may have noticed there has been ZERO mention of exercise yet…that’s because I’m a fat lazy ass! I used to be addicted to Bikram Yoga (hot yoga) and Jesus was my life different then.  I also enjoy bikes.  I was a bike messenger in NYC and rode over 40 miles a day with up to 60 lbs strapped to my back.  When I lived on the Central Coast of California I totally got into mountain biking and had a full-suspension bike as well as a cool single speed 29er.  Now I own a fixed gear with sweet mustache bars, but since large butts hurt when they straddle small bike seats, I don’t ride much anymore.  My favorite exercise of all is nice long hikes and I hope to enjoy exploring hiking in the Palm Springs area this winter (people literally die when they hike in the desert here during the summer).

I want to get back to all that stuff soon.  Last time I did raw–when the crazy energy kicked in–there was no way I couldn’t exercise.  I was doing push-ups all the time and running up and down the steep hills of SF and sweating out the toxins in Bikram classes.  So I’m just going to let it happen naturally.

What I can’t stand is gyms. Not my thing.  One of my friends loves the treadmill and free weight thing.  I can’t do it.  I do have those funny work-out rubber band things though.  Those actually work pretty good for curls, etc.  Maybe I’ll get those out from hiding…

Tonight was the big Halloween party at the convalescent center I tend bar at.  So, to do my part, I got a few things at the costume shop and turned myself into a case of the swine flu. Unbelievably, so much was going on, that my girlfriend (who was a ridiculously cute zebra) and I forgot to take pictures.  I am pissed.

Here’s how I did my costume:  I spray painted my hair pink.  I got a very realistic looking pig snout that you are supposed to wear over your nose.  Poked a hole in one of the nostrils and fed a piece of Kleenex through it so that people could see tissue stuck in the pig’s nose.  Wore the nose on my forehead most of the night since I had to bust out a lot of drinks for the restaurant and the geezers in the bar.  Took a plain white T-shirt and using a permanent marker drew in big block letters “H 1 N 1″ across the chest.  One the back in funny 1970’s style bubble letters I wrote “One Sick Pig.” On on of the sleeves I drew “CAUTION” with the caution triangle symbol.  I wore a string of pearls to add a stupid biblical reference (I hate the Bible) and used a little piece of pink ribbon tied on my back belt loop as a tail.  The whole costume was less than $10 and when people got it, it was a huge hit.

But, for some reason, overall the night was extremely depressing.  My head went into this spiral funk and I couldn’t get out.  I decided that if I were more celebratory & allowed myself a cocktail it would probably improve things. BIG MISTAKE! Made myself my favorite drink, a simple Tanqueray Gimlet (3 0z Tanqueray gin, juice from 1/2 a lime, shake the hell out of it in a cocktail shaker filled with crushed ice, strain over fresh rocks or “up” in a chilled cocktail glass). When all that drink did was make me feel restless, I made another…

Around 12:30 AM riding my bicycle home drunk, beyond depressed, and thinking things like, “at least I have the stars to look at” and, “at least I’m not like the lady those people wheeled into the bar tonight who had Alzheimers and garbled the weirdest version of God Loves America I’ve ever heard while clinging to the two little baby dolls she was holding on her lap.”

What I ate today:

• 2 blooooood oranges (think Twilight, but Jack Black is playing Edward the Vampire)
• cantaloupe juice
• Lara Bar
• Walnuts & raisins
• Huge salad
• 2 BIG ASS GIN GIMLETS (NOT raw no matter how you slice the limes!)
  
• Cacao shake

Thursday, October 29th, 2009

Word of the Day: I hate fat and lazy little boys.
(not really a word, actually a bunch of words, but it works).

Today was a very interesting day.  It started at 12:45pm, since the first two classes of my day were cancelled.  English was dull as usual, and I noticed that my professors arms are very veiny,  and that a nurse would love to put in IV in them (isn’t that what they all think?).

I went to Jefferson for gymnastics practice and continued doing double back flips into the resi-pit.  I stood three of them up today, and that makes me very happy.  I think I might do it on the floor tomorrow and have CJ spot me but I’m not sure right now.  I’m pondering.

I left Jefferson early, got me some McDonalds, and went off to work.  And when I got to work, BREAKING NEWS!  I’m on colours for the first hour instead of girls team!  That is a huge difference!  And I’m not very happy.  And it was these two, four year old boys first time at gymnastics and they were both the most uncoordinated boys I’ve ever seen.  One couldn’t do a forward roll, on a trampoline, with a spot.  It was seriously horrifying.  I wanted to start crying.  Right there.  Just tear up.  Seriously.

I got back my pre-team group of girls and we had a whole 25 or so today.  The level 3s that are training level 4 were better than every single level 4 today.  I was also very proud of my Tori who killed it on bars with the best bar routine I’ve ever seen her do.  Skylar, Elizabeth, and Callie also were amazing trainees.

I was about to leave at 7:30 when my boss came up to me begging I stay for another 30 minutes because all the cheer coaches have something to do for the next thirty minutes.  I was like, whoa, me?  I was only chosen because I learned the cheer and dance.  I’m gay that way.

And Mia called Connie a fat ass and that’s how I’ll end tonight.  Goodnight.

‘Sup, y’all.

Turk128 at deviantart was kool enough to let me color the lineart to his Dexter’s Laboratory fanart, “Dexter’s Mom”.

He liked it, so I’m happy.

You can see even more of his work at www.Etchi-Sketch.com

Swellco2000.com’s own lovable Uncle Wheat Toast (Swellco & Swellco 54239c) claims to be an advice columnist and when he’s not smoking crack or on a glue binge, he seems to be somewhat lucid. As many as 15 thousand people write him a day asking for his worldly sage advice and the Swellco & Swellco thinks it’s about time our pride and joy shares some of his wisdom.

DEAR UNCLE TOAST:
A few months ago, I met the gynecologist of my dreams and was lucky enough to be examined by him. “Dr. Mike” is intelligent, caring, loving, witty, romantic and a great doctor. Every exam he tells me he loves me and that I’m beautiful. So what’s the problem? Dr. Mike weighs 80 pounds more than he did when I first became his patient. I thank God for him every single day, but the stirrups feel cold. Don’t get me wrong. The pap-smears come back normal, but I hate his huge ass and the dead monkey he displays in a jar next to the examination table.  I worry about how his disgusting monstrous fat ass might be affecting my children, and I contemplate cutting him with a knife. Also last week, I accidentally ate a moldy piece of bread, that is the hardest thing for me to deal with. Am I being petty when I tell you I’d give anything to burn him alive along with that dead monkey?
- NOT READY FOR CHILDREN

DEAR NOT READY FOR CHILDREN,
In the 1950s, “success” for girls was defined as marrying early and drinking Vodka. Since then, more women have jobs and careers, and tend to fixate on dead monkeys. You need to be very concerned about the moldy bread. Satan may be growing an evil mold garden in your guts that will spawn flesh devouring maggots. Also, go where like-minded people gather: graduate school, special-interest clubs, volunteer organizations, square dancing, church or a political-action group. Now I leave you with a gratuitous booty dance
-Uncle Wheat Toast Swellco & Swellco 54239c

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It has been established elsewhere in this blog that I have a fat ass. I have determined that I am unsucessful so far at straight dieting, so I have decided that I need to exercise. I talked to the huz about it, and he said “That’s a great idea, we can bring the stationary bike up to the spare room and then you can have that room to exercise in.”

I said “That’s a great idea, but we would need to put a lock on that door first.” The huz asked why. And yet again I am brought face to face with another reason you shouldn’t fuck kids.

I can’t get lost in an activity like exercise without knowing that I am safely locked up in the room in such a way that an intruder would have to work hard to get in. I am positive that this has everything to do with the fact that I was an innocent child who lived in a safe world until that babysitter showed me that people will take every opportunity to hurt me, especially when I am not expecting it. Ever since then, I have always looked over my shoulder, expecting her or someone like her to hurt me in the worst of ways. And so now I need a lock on the fucking door in order to exercise.

I’ve admitted it, I’m fat. Not just fat, but I feel like I’m 10 pounds away from being carted out of my apartment by a fire brigade and a fork lift. I was once much, much skinnier, muscular, had a jaw line and could walk to the door without being winded, but those days seem to be over.
That’s why I’ve decied to tell the world…that I, Nolo, am a fat f*&k.  Yeah, I censored a naughty word, but screamed something similar when I couldn’t fit into my favorite suit tonight.  So starting Monday, October 19th, 2009, I’m going to blog what I eat, how I felt, any exercise, or any other stupid thought that comes through my head.

Misery. It’s just pure misery. I mean it’s only my first day of counting calories and my diet isn’t even technically legit (I refuse to eat reduced fat cheese. that’s sacrilege where I come from!) and still I am fucking miserable today. I’m HUNGRY!!

I got on the scale a few days ago. Here’s how it all went down…
Scale: ## Kilogram (you know my ass is not telling you how much I really weighed in at!!!)
Chubby Me: OK. I know that is too much, but I don’t know how much it fucking is in LBs. Breath. This might not be as bad as it seems.
(pause here to convert on my cell phone…  = ### Lbs)
Chubby Me: Shit! Fuck! What the hell? When the crap did that happen?
Scale: Well, it all started…
Chubby Me: Shut it! Isn’t it bad enough I just found out I’m fat?! Do you need to rub it in?! Jerk.

When I stopped talking to the inanimate object that had just calculated my new heavy weight champion boxing stats, I started to think. When did I gain all this weight? I mean I remember the delicious french fries, ice cream, mashed potatoe, white bread, hamburgers, cold beers and iced teas I enjoyed over the last few years, and as delicious as they were, they always seemed like an exception to the rule of eating healthy. Guess that was one of those lies we tell ourselves to keep going. Oh and I kept it going.

I did see my clothes shrinking but I thought it was the German dryer- it always shrinks my jeans. I just assumed it was because I can’t read the fucking German.  Grrr, Germans.

I don’t want to exercise. I don’t want to work out, sweat and kick my own ass. I DO NOT WANT TO DO CARDIO. I DO NOT WANT TO RUN, WALK, CRUNCH, LIFT, CURL, SQUAT or any of the sort. But I must. I know I must. I started with the walking. Check. But it turns out that I’m no longer 18 years old. Walking lightly for 40 minutes no longer helps me shrink  the belly I love so much. So I will work out… tomorrow.

But when I add it all up, it does equal ##Kilograms, or ### Lbs, and I’m not proud. I guess we do what we do to get by. I got divorced, got back on my feet, quit smoking, and now I have met my next hurdle. I don’t want to be skinny, my body isn’t built for it and I know the men love the cushion for the pushin’. I need to get healthier, more fit, than I am right now. I need to get into better shape, strengthen my core and get control over my eating.  So I will.

I’ll take you along with me for the ride in between my other rants. Feel free to share with me the story of your personal hell. I know I’m not the only one out here hungry as hell at midnight, thinking only of buttered popcorn, gooey brownies, Ben and Jerry and those little Keebler Elves. How many calories are in that sinful, naughty food-orgy fantasy? No. Wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.

Michelle Obama: It’s a ’sacrifice’ to travel to Europe to pitch for the Olympics. But I’m doing it for the kids.
Article: Washington Examiner

In her speech in Copenhagen today, First Lady Michelle Obama said her trip to Denmark, along with the travel of her “dear friend” and “chit-chat buddy” Oprah Winfrey, as well as tomorrow’s visit by President Obama, is a “sacrifice” on behalf of the children of Chicago and the United States. “As much of a sacrifice as people say this is for me or Oprah or the president to come for these few days,” the first lady told a crowd of people involved in the Chicago project, “so many of you in this room have been working for years to bring this bid home.”

Toting your fat ass on private jets; without your husband – who will be traveling later in his OWN private jets – both of which will be accompanied by “protective” jets (gasps carbon footprint much?!) to LOBBY for the Olympics is HARDLY a sacrifice. This is nothing but a distraction from the trainwreck of an administration HEADED by our Queermander in Chief Barack Hussein Obama. Nobody gives a shit about the Olympics, and your idea of “sacrifice” is WARPED. With NO due respect whatsoever, Mrs. Obama, YOU are a fatheaded MORON.

“As first lady, as many of you know, I’ve made it a priority to bridge the gap between the White House and communities across D.C. and across the country,” Mrs. Obama continued. “I’ve spent much of my first nine months trying to open the doors to the White House to kids who might not otherwise see themselves having access to these institutions, because that’s where I came from – communities like that where kids never dreamed that they could set foot in the White House, let alone live there…And Barack and I made a point of doing the same thing when we lived in Chicago – making the concerns of kids in all sorts of communities our own.”

Are you an IDIOT? ANYONE can set up a tour of the White House. In fact, you moron, I’ve been there MYSELF. ANY MONUMENT. ANY PUBLIC BUILDING. TOURS ARE SET UP DAILY! Schools, individuals, study groups, passionate American patriots… EVERYONE can visit the White House. It’s not YOUR PERSONAL property you troll. It’s AMERICA’S house. IT BELONGS to the CITIZENS OF AMERICA. Just because your neanderthal family happens to occupy it for the next three years does NOT mean that it’s YOUR house. YOU are renters. It is OUR house and we have EVERY RIGHT to visit it ANY TIME we take it upon ourselves to schedule a tour. BULLSHIT.

Mrs. Obama said bringing the Olympics to Chicago is especially important right now because “athletics is becoming more of a fleeting opportunity.” “Funds dry up so it becomes harder for kids to engage in sports, to learn how to swim, to even ride a bike,” she said. In addition, with childhood obesity on the rise, “it is so important for us to raise up the platform of fitness and competition and fair play,” the first lady said.

Wait, doesn’t your husband bowl for the Special Olympics? Or am I mistaken? Or was he just making a tacky joke? It’s hard to say anymore. Also, I’d like to point out that for someone so eager to whine about funds drying up; why don’t you point your googly eyes in the direction of our national deficit. THERE is a PERFECT example of “Funds drying up”. I didn’t grow up with a wealthy family, yet I had every opportunity in the world to learn to swim, my loving father taught me how to ride a bike, and not ONCE was I denied the opportunity to engage in sports. I skateboard, I LOVE hockey, baseball is another DangerB favourite, and guess what! I’m FAR from obese. Could it be because I do more than sit around stuffing my pie hole? Because I actually get UP off of the computer and DO PHYSICAL activities? How do you figure that “it becomes harder for kids to engage in sports” because of “dried up funds”? No, Really. I’d LOVE to know.

Finally, having the Olympics in Chicago would be important to “let people know that we understand that sports saves lives, that it makes dreams come true, that it creates visions in kids’ heads to make them think they can be the next David Robinson, the next Barack Obama, the next Nadia Comaneci, the next Oprah Winfrey,” Mrs. Obama said.

Anyone who wants to be the next Barack Hussein Obama or Oprah Winfrey CLEARLY does NOT have “sports” as a motivator. BHussein throws a baseball like a little bitch, he plays basketball like a sissy, and he golfs instead of going to church. Golf isn’t an Olympic event. Also, Oprah Winfrey?! When the fuck is the last time THAT lardbag participated in a sporting event? Liposuction does not count as a sport.

BOO FUCKING HOO.

You want to talk SACRIFICE? Let’s think for a moment about our brave men and women serving in Iraq and Afghanistan who are BEGGING for more troops to back them up. Those who bravely put their lives on the line for the sake of democracy, freedom, liberty, and security. Those brave soldiers who are willing to fight for what’s right. Those soldiers that YOUR SISSY little husband doesn’t give two shits about. THOSE soldiers that YOUR husband ignores. THAT is sacrifice. YOUR fat ass toting around on private jets lobbying to get the Olympics to be held in CHICAGO is NOT sacrifice, you wretched old twat. Do you know what the average age of the soldier FIGHTING overseas is? THEY’RE YOUNG. THEY’RE KIDS. If you gave two shits about “kids” YOU and YOUR HUSBAND WOULD BE PROTECTING THEM. But no. You ignore them.

Here’s a depressing little read, if you’re so “concerned about the KIDS” (Which is obviously a flat out lie.)
43 U.S. Troops Have Died in Afghanistan Since Gen. McChrystal Called for Reinforcements
Article: CNS News

…On August 30, Gen. Stanley McChrystal sent Defense Secretary Robert Gates a war assessment in which he said more U.S. troops–and a new U.S. strategy–are needed if the U.S. is to defeat the insurgents in Afghanistan.

Since that Aug. 30 date, a total of 43 soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines have died in a war that is now the subject of much discussion–and apparently some confusion–in Washington. Forty-two of those casualties have been identified by name in U.S. Defense Department press releases (see article), while the 43rd casualty, which occurred today [September 30th 2009], has been confirmed in press reports, but not by name.

…

Read More
(Will add this info to the “Obama Body Count”)

Yeah, you’re a classy dame. You sure do give a shit about the “kids”.  Psyche.

why do i feel so numb

why do i feel so tired

why does time go so  fast

why can’t i read all the books i have

why am i so lazy

i listened to a sad song

i felt tired of the song

i want to live in the wild

i want to live in a condo

i want people to love me

i want to stop being lazy

i want to call my mom

i want to stop feeling depressed

i want money and not work for it

i want to travel to china and live in a giant hotel

i want to feel content

i feel asleep to an audio book of  naked lunch by william s. burroughs

i thought ‘ seems strange’

i woke up and felt depressed and perplexed

when i am around people, i feel like i just want to be alone

when i am alone , i feel like being around a person

i can’t get nothing done

depression keeps me up all night

tiredness keeps me sleepy all day

i can’t understand this at all

i can’t understand this at all

i am too unhappy to work some shitty job

i am too unhappy to enjoy night clubs

i much rather read

but i don’t read much

i spend my time listening to music

and staring at things feeling unhappy

i want to  buy a tuxedo

wish i could afford a tuxedo from tom ford or burberry

so i can prove a point to people that getting out of bed is a ‘ grand event ‘

life is sad

i hope your coming with me

Yesterday i was talking to this guy ill call him Z. He was telling me about when he was younger how he fantasized about his FAT ASSED Aunt. He used to peek at her showering when he was young. She would undress and he would see her hairy pussy and fat ass. He said she was very natural and that really turned him on. She was very curvy in all the right places. After she was done in the bathroom he used to go in and masturbate. He said when she did anything moved, walked that big fat ass would wiggle and he would have to go jerk off. So in our role play we decided that Auntie would catch him spying on her. Here is what happened on our kinky FAT ASS Auntie roleplay phone sex call MMMmmm pretty hot!!

Auntie was kinda pissed that Z was peeking. Nobody was home at the time just her and him. She said in the stern voice “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING Z!”  He was totally shocked and he was speechless. She looked down and was shocked at the huge cock poking out through his tighty whities.

She knew actually what to do! She grabbed his hand and walked him back to the bedroom. Her see through bathrobe flowing. Z’s eyes were fixated on her BIG ASS. She laid down on the bed. She showed him actually what to do to her. She pulled her hairy bush aside exposing her beautiful pussy and told him to taste her and lick her. He dove right in licking her gobbling up her pussy. She told him to keep licking, she pulled her pussy lips apart and pointed to her clit and said lick there thats where you lick and suck. She told him to slide some fingers in her. Fuck me with your fingers and lick and suck my pussy. Make your Auntie CUM!

She grabbed her big thighs and pulled them up to her big chest and said go ahead now boy eat that BIG FAT ASS. I know thats what you want. I think he came in his tighty whities right then and there but I Auntie kept going. EAT ME BOY SHE YELLED! He looked up at her and then looked back down at her BIG FAT ASS. He grabbed ahold of his aunties big ass cheeks and buried his face in it. He smelled and licked her and stuck his tongue in her asshole like she told him to do. He felt at some point he couldn’t breathe because her fat ass was smothering him but all he knew was he loved his aunts big fat ass in his face and he wasnt letting go of it until she said!!

Looking for some hot family roleplay today? I love all kinds of kink role play. Call me for some.

Lyndee 1-866-332-8803

VISIT MY SITE

 11:59 pm

Why So Fat?: The American Sugar Jones- AMERICA – If you’re like a good number of Americans, you look at yourself in the mirror every night after showering and say “damn it, I’m fat.”  No matter how much you lie to yourself, there’s no way in hell you’re going to stop pigging out on your favorite foods. Yes, you MIGHT go to the gym and do a few quick sets of curls with the 5 pounders and skip some rope, before blacking out  from exhaustion in the men’s room.  Sure, you DO go to the dojo for some kickboxing on occasion, but it’s usually off to Hooters for $1 drafts of Schlitz and 100 pack of hot wings after a few kicks to the nads and a punch in the face.  But face the facts fatso, it’s your seefood diet.  You see food and then you feed your fat face because you’re addicted to it, mainly cookies, cakes, candy bars and Coke.  Or, in scientific terms, you have an incurable sugar jones so stay the hell away from this stuff or you’ll be a diabetic before breakfast.

1. Fortune cookies.  Your fortune say “you a fat ass go on diet.”

2. Flavored booze.  Ok, skip this one.  You’re a fat loser and need booze to forget.

3. Dried, sweetened cranberries.  A box of these with a bottle of cheap vodka does that to you every time.

4.  Ketchup.  You’re supposed to put in on your cheeseburger, not bathe in it.

5. Cream substitutes.  You like a little coffee with your cream Shakes?

6. BBQ sauce.  Buy it by the bottle, not by the case, Bubba.

7. “Reduced” salad dressings.  They aren’t reducing anything other than the flavor of the real stuff.

8. Lemonade.  Milk, milk, lemonade round the corner fudge is made.  Enough said.

9. Granola bars.  The granola tastes like dirty hay but the carmel and chocolate are freaking awesome.

10. Flavored popcorn.  The popcorn flavor of the month club is no place to meet women. (http://health.yahoo.com/featured/35/foods-surprisingly-high-in-added-sugar/).

With this in mind, it’s time to take a cold, hard look at your fat ass in the mirror and finally take a stand against all of the good, sugary foods that are bad for you.  No more palettes of Frankenberrry cereal or boxes of Ho Hos and certainly no more WingKing at 4 a.m,  or food shopping at Costco.  If you tell yourself you’re a total fat ass and need to lose weight and get healthy it will work wonders, if you believe in yourself.  On the other hand, you’re still fat and have told yourself this very thing a million times.  If you know you’re a liar and will never listen to anything you say get out the bucket of cereal and gallon of milk and wash it down with a 12 pack of Coke.  It’s better to be fat and happy instead of thin and bitchy.