Horay for weddings

I am DRUNK. Having a great weekend already. Thought of you, but settled for wine. And champagne. And Maker’s Mark. And beer. And… uh…

I drunk dialed Paul. Everyone else can just be jealous. Okay, I drunk dialed someone else, but it was too much work ot leave a message. Jerk. Paul called me back, we had a nice chat.

I’m aonlt asheamed that noah sees nme htis way.

the other inight we did not hve [pizza luce, but tonight we weill, without any drunken aiming of you. I know that you watn me to send yhou an emial, but no. I on purpose did not correct my touch tyupeinjg.I’m totlaly going to see the fringe festival.

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A Milestone Build

Woo hoo! I’m down to 200 pounds for the first time in years.

“What diet are you on?” you might ask.
“I’m on the see food diet!” I would respond.

Seriously, I eat whatever I want and drink whatever I want. However, I don’t want pop like I used to and I don’t want to eat or drink the gigantic servings that I used to. My key is to never be hungry and to only crave healthy things like pizza and cake.

Of course, that’s probably the lowest that my weight will be today, since it has been known to fluctuate within a ten pound range over a 24 hour period. Nonetheless, hitting this target weight means that it is officially time for chapter two, in which our hero investigates a thing called “exercise.” Will the mysteries never cease?

Despite the torrential downpours, the wedding is still on and theoretically outdoors.

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Blogging for two!

Since Lisa is terribly distracted by Marsha’s wedding, she needed someone to lay down the funk on her blog. Unfortunately I have been just as busy putting my foot in my mouth, so I have only posted once, and it was small and flavorless. I will probably post pictures after the wedding, but if you are too lazy to go over to Mama Lisa’s blog, you will find some stuff here later.

I’m gonna finish out my relaxing (and boring) Friday with Battlestar Galactica. I might fall asleep during. I can only hope.

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Why get a shoe shine

When you’re made of dirt?

Okay. Seriously. How did I let the Poster Children slip out of my consciousness? It’s not like they stopped making albums.

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