The weight is over!


Like my chubby friend here, I only too well know the pain of self-loathing that leads to overindulgence. Whilst I admit, my predilection was not pies (or whatever it is the fuck the fat little cunt is eating), but beer, or wine, or spirits….which would sometimes lead to a cheeseburger or two. It truly is time to get off this ride!

I stepped onto the scales this morning, and without a word of a lie, I swear I could hear them strain with the effort of supporting my fat arse! I mean, you know you have hit bottom when even inanimate objects start passing judgement on your gravitational force.

But in reality, it’s not the scales fault.

Nor is it the fault of the prepubescent acne scarred teen slinging you ‘Big Macs’ from behind a glass booth, ‘Tayla’….or ‘Skyla’…..or whatever her ‘Trayla- trash’ name is…..fuck! She can’t even muster a smile; mascara running, sobbing gently into the microphone of the drive through – the pain radiating to her very core as she recovers from a vicious fingering the night before. ‘Jeff’ or ‘Brett’, captain of the the high school football team….’he said he loved me’ she whispers.

He lied Tayla – Jeff LIED!!!

And as she sits, cradling herself, dispensing change, trying not to let the tears of her shame dampen her headset, pictures of her spread across the internet like electronic HIV. No Longer a girl, not yet a woman, but already a star! No My friends, it’s not her fault. Fuck man, that girl has her own problems to deal with.

And it’s not Alcohol’s fault – nor the fault of the manufacturing companies for providing  a deliciously crafted variety of social lubricants so readily available at convenient locations.

No….It’s us! – or well, more appropriately….it’s me! It has been my decisions that have led to what is know as in the digital media world – ‘Over-buffering’ – My Pants have officially run out of bandwidth!

So with a starting weight of 95kg…’s fucking game on!

Day 2 – over



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