Invariably, inevitably, redundantly back to me.
I'm ok. I'm eating too many greens and as a consequence my blood is too thick. As a secondary consequence, my improved eating habits have resulted in some weight loss. A couple years back, in Peoria, I topped out at 225 lbs. Fat in the gut like a Weeble, though rather than wobble, I was always in danger of falling down. I cut weight to 205 by the time I hit Dallas, maintaining until I got sepsis in April 2013. At that time, while in the hospital, I was given a swallowing test of which results determined that I would be required to have a feeding tube drilled into my stomach. I could only eat pureed food and drink thickened liquid. Never was I to use a straw. Needless to say, I say it anyway, I did none of this. I eat nearly anything I want, drink through a straw and never thicken liquid. To the doctor's supressed surprise, I have hung around 200 for a year. All will change come my next clinic. I stand at 190 right now. If I were free of ALS, I would stand, literally, at 180, but I need some extra poundage in case I get really Sick.
I don't snack. Somehow Oreos don't fly into my mouth.
I'm a wonder when to myself and others. I wonder why I've hung around for so long and others wonder how.
I drool so I grew this nasty ass Beard within which to cultivate myriad colonies of spittle protozoans bent on taking over the world of single cell organizims.
My hair is not as long as it will be tomorrow and will continue until and beyond the day I can see it grow without the aid of a mirror, and will eventually form a nest upon which my chin may rest in the event that my neck can no longer support my noggin.
I'm in desperate need of an organic, all natural deodorant that works worth a shit.
I'm ok. I'm eating too many greens and as a consequence my blood is too thick. As a secondary consequence, my improved eating habits have resulted in some weight loss. A couple years back, in Peoria, I topped out at 225 lbs. Fat in the gut like a Weeble, though rather than wobble, I was always in danger of falling down. I cut weight to 205 by the time I hit Dallas, maintaining until I got sepsis in April 2013. At that time, while in the hospital, I was given a swallowing test of which results determined that I would be required to have a feeding tube drilled into my stomach. I could only eat pureed food and drink thickened liquid. Never was I to use a straw. Needless to say, I say it anyway, I did none of this. I eat nearly anything I want, drink through a straw and never thicken liquid. To the doctor's supressed surprise, I have hung around 200 for a year. All will change come my next clinic. I stand at 190 right now. If I were free of ALS, I would stand, literally, at 180, but I need some extra poundage in case I get really Sick.
I don't snack. Somehow Oreos don't fly into my mouth.
I'm a wonder when to myself and others. I wonder why I've hung around for so long and others wonder how.
I drool so I grew this nasty ass Beard within which to cultivate myriad colonies of spittle protozoans bent on taking over the world of single cell organizims.
My hair is not as long as it will be tomorrow and will continue until and beyond the day I can see it grow without the aid of a mirror, and will eventually form a nest upon which my chin may rest in the event that my neck can no longer support my noggin.
I'm in desperate need of an organic, all natural deodorant that works worth a shit.
Do you see!? Do you see how he taunts me? He ditches weight for his own satisfaction as I stand with buckets of high nutrition flavored goo for his enjoyment to so enjoy at all hours of the day and late night and yet he chooses vanity.
ReplyDeleteScissors and clippers and shavers at the ready while I beg and plead to relieve him of his mask of homelessness/vagrant.
But he just snickers and refuses all offers to let the world see the handsome hunk hidden under that mass of golden locks.
Does Hallmark yet have a card of sympathy for wives who have to endure this sort of social torture?