155

155

Fun, fun, fun… funnity fun!

Don’t let the picture above disturb you… and in fact, the picture is telling a bit of a fib, that’s more like 175.

What is 155? you ask.

Let me tell you… well, other than being one fine sexy damn number. A one, followed closely by a couple of fives. What’s more sexy than that?

247, c’mon, please!

One: the beginning. Five: half way there. Another five: a pause to enjoy making it that far. Shall I continue…

“No”

You’re right… I’m not making sense.

As for some historical facts about 155:

Roman Empire

• Roman Emperor Antoninus Pius starts a new war against the Parthians who are led by Vologesus. The war is brief and results in an inconclusive peace.
• Rome states that while it will not be recognized as an official religion, Judaism must be tolerated.
• To restore peace between the Jews and Romans, Antoninus relegalizes circumcision.
• The Romans begin to abandon Hadrian's Wall.
  

Asia

• First year of Yongshou era of the Chinese Han Dynasty.
  

Anyhow, 155 is nothing more than my quest for Svelte. Of ridding my body of baby fat and achieving an illusive goal. Today, November 18th, 2007, I tip the scales in the neighborhood of 178 belly bulging lbs. Too many, and no longer necessary --- unless hibernation is forecast for my future.

It’s time, I’ve tried the other options for months, hell, years now --- all to no avail. Failure has been kicking me in the junk for quite some time now, therefore, it’s time to search for a radical solution to my pressing dilemma. Cold fucking turkey --- is painfully, appearing to be the only solution.

I searched for other answers and I tried to trick my mind: today will be the last day. Shit. That’s okay, we all screw up --- tomorrow will be the last day. Crap. After the weekend --- that will be the last time. Damn it! One more time --- I want to go out with a bang --- enjoy every bite. Pisser.

Mind, you’re one slick manipulator. You’ve left me no other options. I need to fight for my survival. Vanity has issued an ultimatum: get with the program or I’m going to leave you forever. How’d you like that dough boy? Well… how?

So there you have it: Cold turkey it is. I have no choice.

So come along with me on my journey… 31 days and a dump of 23 pounds. Can I do it… check in for the updates… before I start, I’m off to eat Poutine!

Tomorrow: Weigh in.

Start day: November 19th. Finish: Just before Christmas.

Oops... I almost forgot to define cold turkey!..

Since I’m not going to give up sex and the wonderful soothing qualities of Triptophan, as an alternative, I’ve decided: no cola, no harsh... no French fries, and a heavy reduction in the consumption of beer. That way, I’ll avoid the inevitable turn-to: sexless, that likely comes as an end result of the over consumption of crap. I’ve managed to keep father time at bay for quite some time now, however, my recent all junk diet, coupled with the over quaffing of beer, throw in the odd audio hallucinatory… and it is time.

“Harsh dude.”

I know --- but it must be done. It’s for the greater good. I’m going to take one on the chin for the team. Lead by example. At least till I get my weak-assed, will-powerless, lifestyle-destroying, temptation-chasing, mind and body back in control of my life game. It’s either I take this drastic measure, or I get rid of all mirrors and hide. And, I’m not a very good hider.

You see: I’ve always prided myself on being in stellar physical condition. My penis was always in sight by just glancing downward. As of late: I’m afraid that unless my upper abdomen grows its own penis --- it’s slipping away. My dick is becoming a good hider.

“One, two, three…ten. Ready or not here I come. Where did you go?”

I don’t want to loose him. He’s important to me --- cold turkey has become a necessity. That subway guy pretty much went on a diet of cold turkey and look what it’s done for him. I said look. Are you looking?

At the end of my our journey... I'll post another picture, a provocative picture. Perhaps, with a glance at my nether regions. Wouldn't that be delightful?

Don't leave, yet, I have one more piece of business to attend to, my manuscript, my first memoir: russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed).

It's done! It's good! It's funny! It's traumatic! It's inspirational! It's bizarre! I could go on --- but I won't. It's time for it to come to fruition, to find a publishing home, in that spirit, 155, and the thirty-one days involved, are to be thirty-one days of piercing focus at the end of which, that said publishing home, is to be secured. Can I do it?

Come along for the ride and see... it's time to stop being the underdog!

Day 1: November 19th, 2007.

Day 31: December 20th, 2007.

Wish me luck!