Fat Fuck Versus Himself Part III: plateaus, steppes and buttes

Sitting at my desk having a Snickers bar for breakfast while guzzling down what will be the first of a ‘minimum 3 Venti Friday’ I recall the “Fat Fuck Verses Himself Series” of posts seen here and here.

Last year I lost 40lbs, I’d like to think it was because of going to the gym, eating right and livin’ health-a-ly. I’ll tell you a secret, it’s because I woke up every day wanting to drink Drano and didn’t eat. Stress will play neat tricks with your body.

Cigarettes and coffee is not necessarily a food group or the diet of champions. It’s the diet of the emo 15 year old kid who hates life cause things are, like, ‘sooo bad’ (I mean, like oh my God, I can’t believe the car they gave me was not new … the world is black. I am darkness, ok, no need to continue, you know where I’m going with this).

I was out last night and had the first burger I had had in a while. Not like a “McE-Deez Double cheeze brah’” kinda’ burger I had a real “go out and order some real effing grilled medium rare, gimmie some fucking meat” kinda’ burger. And yes Virginia, fries were involved.

Hank woulda’ been proud.

Not that I would ever diss the lovingly good goodness of my beloved Trader Joes has to offer. Peanut Satay, easy to cook frozen goodness and Wasabi WoW will be staples of the diet till I grow bored with them.

Ok, We’re (I’m) getting off topic, plateaus, steppes and buttes

Chubby Mc Chubberson, (that’s me) went from 265 to 220 from like April to October last year, nice work. I’ve been sittin’ on 220 for like close to four months now. Now, that can be a good thing, I lost the weight and did not put it back on; however, a little progress might be nice here and there. In conjunction with National Furlough Fun Week I will also be kicking off The National Fat Fuck Versus Themselves Part Deauq Campaign.

Based off of the original Fat Fuck Verses Himself Campaign the NFFVTPDC will be more of a micro campaign. The mission of the NFFVTPDC to get below the 200 mark in 3 months with the eventual goal of not being concerned about how big my tits look when I take my shirt off. The original campaign was more like Rocky Balboa, to get raw punching power i.e. ditch the spare tire.

Basically If I don’t jump off this plateau and get to steppein’ I’m gonna’ be stuck with this butte, and this kid ain’t havin’ it.

until then

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