I went to super wal-mart the other night after work and had my arms full of groceries and to get to the front door of my house you have to go down some steps. I'm carefully navigating my steps in the darkness (it's 3am) with 3 of those blue bags in each hand, dodging Ralph my cat who I swear is trying to assassinate me. That's when it happens. About halfway down the steps my shorts drop down to my ankles. So there's me, standing in the late summer moonlight, 6 bags of groceries in my arms, a murderous orange cat looking up at me, and my undies are all that are between me and the little town I live in. I'm just thankful it was in the middle of the night. My neighbors already probably think I'm a freak of the highest order.
I chuckled to myself and didn't think of my nocturnal peep show for a few days. Then it struck me that, hey! I haven't weighed myself in about 2 years. I dig around the house and find a scale and hop on it and turn an eye to the dial.
I am happy to report that I am under 300 pounds for the first time in at least twelve years. Right now I'm sitting at 290 pounds. I'm still a big tub of sweet lovin, but I needed the ego stroke that loosing some poundage gives.
Now if I could just find some eager young ladies to stroke my ego for me...
-Twiz
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