My weight-gaining fun is over.

It started out great, and over the course of 2 weeks I gained around 12 pounds and I could express my joy with both my smile and the smile-shape my blossoming second chin made. Disaster struck when I started putting on a pair of jeans and had to squeeze to get that button in the hole. I signed up to be a fatty, not to replace all my clothing.

So now I’m back to being scrawny (thanks cigs) and I’m quite comfortable with it. I suppose in life one has to give up some dreams in order to obtain more important ones (never shopping for clothes).

I’m working on a project now that I’m aiming to be out before Feb. It’s just a toy POC flash app that demonstrates pseudo-decentralized distributed computing visually from within a browser, but the nerd in me is excited about it.

P.S. I’m sorry I haven’t posted in forever.

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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