Stream of Consciousness

You know what isn't good? Diet Canada Dry ginger ale. First, it is Ginger Ale. Second, it tastes like watered down Ginger Ale. I don't know why I opened it. It sucks.

It Is Over

The diet. Got down to 180. A mere 39 pounds. I promptly went out and ate and drank like a 219 pounder. Won't be long until I'm back there.

The NL Central Race. Felipe Lopez will hit .436 with 39 HRs 141 RBI and 34 SB the rest of the way, and will also contribute in long relief. His addition will have the Crew winning the Central by 12 games. What I don't like is that we traded a minor leaguer I've actually heard of (Cole Gillespie). But in reality like 5% of minor leaguers ever even make it pro, so I guess I shouldn't worry. Chances we get Halladay? -45%.

The thought that Seth McClung is good. Jonny Gomes? Really?

The flight of Prince's homer yesterday. It finally landed.

In other news, I got completely fucked up a 4 in the afternoon with my 75-ish year old grandma. I bet between 4 and 7 pm on Saturday, the 6 people that were playing dice had between 50 and 75 shots. I know I had 10. It was totally random.

I Guess I Had A Few Excess Pounds

I don't want to keep dwelling on this diet thing, but it is pretty much the only non-sports relating thing going on right now (other than the thundersnow we had again yesterday) so indulge me for a second. I had my own personal "Biggest Loser"-style weigh in this morning in my bathroom, minus the TV cameras and that nutty trainer bitch. I felt that according to my fuzzy math, based on my caloric intake v. calories burned that I would lose 2 pounds. And scale says.....minus FIVE. Holy fucking shit. I didn't even try that hard. I ate half a stuffed crust pizza yesterday. I worked out (not counting the stairs I walk up and down at work, and blowing snow) ONE time. I got FIVE boxes of Girl Scout cookies. That being said, I'm pretty sure three pounds are going to magically appear at some point. I'm also pretty fucking sure all the women in my office want to murder me and feast on (what's left of) my substance.

People Who Live In Glass Houses

I've been known to make fun of Prince Fielder and CC Sabathia for being overweight. To be fair they are supposedly world class athletes, and have no reason to be large. I on the other hand, while still only about half the size of either of those two, am not exactly a model of human anatomy. I've often made jokes about my size and inability to refuse snacks. But, I haven't heard that Prince or CC have diagnosed health problems (except for the inability to tie their own shoes. Sorry.). I have seriously been told that I have to go on a diet. And I have been given no direction whatsoever. So I'm just trying to avoid things that I know are bad for me, while filling myself with the empty calories that exist in alcoholic beverages. So today is day one, and wouldn't you know it, more proof that (Sports Bottle's) god hates me. Some fucking bitch made a gigantic plate full of rice krispy treats WITH chunks of chocolate in them. Fucking whore. And now I have to walk by them 200 fucking times today and try to drum up the willpower to not stuff my fat face with like 12 of them. Goddamnit.