Before I left Michigan I was laying on the couch watching TV when my sister noticed something she’d never seen before, me, with a belly. I had begun to notice it about two months before but did absolutely nothing about it except tempt it with booze and Mexican food. I was also experiencing another thing I had never experienced before and that was when I would jog up a set of steps or the like I could feel the fat on my front slide up and down. Now I will guarantee you that if you are the typical American and you saw me you’d say I was skinny. I prefer thin since I do have muscle, skinny is when you can see bones, but here I was…heavy. I weighed myself and I was ten pounds heavier than I ever have been and I was heavy into racing and weights not so long ago and muscle is way heavier than fat. (I know that a pound of fat weighs the same as a pound of muscle but you know what I mean)
You want to lose weight? I mean really lose some weight?! Go to England, get poisoned, then head to France and work like a madly inspired devil dog, taming vines and hand slinging nearly five thousand bottles and then pushing around thousand pound carts of booze. Fast-forward to Thursday night after I get out of the shower and low and behold my five pack is back. I could never get the six-pack but five is just fine. I knew I had lost some weight since I had to wear a belt on Tuesday to keep my jeans up out in the field but this was just plain crazy especially with how much food I have been eating. Now all I need is a long haired dictionary to show it off to.
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