I will fucking eat you.
With my 25th birthday nearing (hint: I like Qdoba gift certificates. And hookers), my metabolism has decided that it has tortured me enough and it’s time for it to die in a deliciously blubbery coffin. My goal is straightforward and simple: to become jolly big in time for Christmas. This will be accomplished by maximizing my caloric intake, minimizing my tobacco usage (farewell once again my sweet, sweet… sweet… sweet fire sticks), and participating in a whole lotta sitting-around-doing-shittism.
My last cigarette was Saturday, when I weighed 166. I’m currently weighing in at a 170 and sky is the limit (or a cardiac arrest).
I’ll keep this blog a bit more updated for the next month while I, much like a bear preparing for hibernation, stuff myself full of hot, dense meat (nohomo) for the winter.
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