Lose 1-3 HPs

I got hit by a car today. It didn't hurt too much when it happened.

Now I am sore as hell.

Before that I went roller-skating* for an hour, and rock climbing**.

Then I headed to the mall to get lunch.

Aside from the rock-climbing and being hit by a car. It was nice. Like it was 1952 and I was 14.

I don't think I was hurt too bad, but we'll see. I'm going to take a nap and study Russian.

* I did OK.

**I did poorly.

Rant: rated PG-13 for theoretical violence, blood, and language.

Oh Penny, why do I read you? You self-absorbed..darn, I promised to keep this site PG-13, and my name-calling is decidedly NC-17. Ok, Deep Breaths

Ok. So people are mad that she killed her cat, I guess. I honestly haven't been keeping up like you deserve, dear readers. I get my share of smug and self-satisfied at work. But , like I said readers*, you require something interesting to snark at, and I , your humble host, aim for the mark.

The things I do for you. All I ask is that you stay with me.

So she kilned a cat and everybody hates her. This is stupid. They shouldn't hate her for killing a cat. I'll get to why in a second. They should get angry at her for being a naive urbanite who spews pure self-importance and insincere profundity because "Oh Gosh, farm work is hard." Seriously, my dearest fans, we should invest in cars that run on arrogance. But then we'd have to send people into that gaping hole Penny calls a mouth. Nobody wants that.

I wonder if she talks like she blogs. If I had to sit next to her in line at the grocery, I'd stuff Clark bars into my mouth 'till I choked. Organic Clark bars, obviously

Thankfully we poor folk shop at Wal Mart, with occasional forays into the Mexican, Indian and West African grocers for cheap beans and meat. Since it it isn't a Whole Foods Organic Raw Unprocessed Natural Store where the fruits and veggies see a vegetable therapist, I doubt we'll meet.

Man, trolling is fun. I ought write about that. Or Vegetable Therapy. I think it's time we learned how veggies deal with death.

I digress. Back to the Topic. I ramble almost as much as she does.

She mentions that the post on killing her cat was actually about getting paid for a site she doesn't like. Christ, lady, where you a journalist. I learned in High School that you lead with the point. Don't ramble on about the morality of killing a cat when you just want to brag.

Killig n a cat is totally moral. My dad had to kill cats. They got this intestinal disorder where their intestines came out their back end. There's no technical term, or at least Google didn't have one. So he had to kill them. The hard way. We couldn't afford the vet. But we could afford something decidedly low-tech.

Is it easy? No. My dad cried like a baby while doing it. Watching him clutching the cat laying down and he just slid the knife.

But what was his option? Let it die in agony over the next few days? Soldiers know the mercy cut. It's moral. Don't say you don't know. More on that later.

Damn, I'm getting a little misty. and I am starting to seem like I'm defending her (OK, I am, a little). I'm not. Her blog post is mostly about the cat (interesting) and then in wonders into her wondering about morality (boring) and getting paid to link (more boring).

and then she gets a whole bunch of hate mail because of the cat, so she decides to write about that. So rather than tell the people around "fuck off," she grows pedantic and tries to teach us about diversity. As if a white girl from Madison knows shit about diversity.

I don't know diversity. Sure, I have had some diverse friends, but like most people I don't go out of my way to be diverse. I ask some of my friends about diversity. They are experts. They live and work with other cultures. but they didn't do it like a tourist. My friend Adam learned Spanish to talk to the cooks and bus boys where he worked.

I digress again. To get on track, I'll pour battery acid into my eyes. or read her blog again. It's the same thing.

OK, this post is getting long..

She a few good points, but she's a bitch about it. I don't disagree with what she did, it had to be done. But does she have to be so holier-than-thou, so passive aggressive, so...Madison, about it?

Also, people who treat pets with animals can be completely well-adjusted. Or they can be crazy. It's people with blogs that are universally whack jobs.

One last thing, Penny, dearie, you say that morality cannot be absolutely known. You sound like a liberal hippy-dip. You sound like Christians who claim that because we don't know stuff, god exists. I'd expect more of you, but honestly, I read your blog.

Just because we don't know absolutely what is moral, doesn't mean we are rudderless. I'll prove it to you (and use Godwin's Law, to boot).

Killing cats, Beating your wife or husband, Killing Jews.

Put them in moral order.

If we absolutely cannot make moral decisions - if morality is purely subjective and contextual, then -stay with me here, you are saying that in some context killing an entire ethnicity is morally superior to putting down a cat.

In what universe is this true? Maybe it's a space-angel cat?

OK, enough, this post is way too long as it is.

Studied Russian and rode my bike today.

Don't Vote For Me!

Don't vote for me

I saw that some of you voted for me to win. Ha ha!, you fools!* You have fallen for a classic blunder! That is, trusting a hedonist to do anything remotely willpower related!

I realized, while practicing iaijutsu and kenjutsu today**, that I am not the favorite. I shouldn't be the favorite. Don't vote for me. And then I kicked a squirrel. He was eyeing up my peach.

You ever watch dog racing? I watched my first dog race in person a few weeks ago. And I saw the desperate put down cash on a sure thing. Or on a dog that looks good.

I am the D-class race dog, inbred and three-legged. I wandered off the track while they were showing us, ate some grass, then threw it up. But I got a sparkle in my eye.

This is not a sign that I've got spunk. It's a sign that I have gas.
Don't bet on me.

A six-minute walk from a pizza place, a Chinese place, and two sub shops, I am absolutely doomed. A peach tree in my yard. This is Rocky Balboa (me) vs. Apollo Creed (junk food). And there isn't the embrace and love of the challenge at the end. Just a lot of whining for donuts.

This is rebels vs the Galactic Empire. they've got the death Hamburger, ans all I got is JekPorkins. And the only Force is the hypnotic smell of bacon.

The odds are gastronomical!

Today I craved noodles. Stupid Food Network. I shouldn't watch it. But the minute there is a Crack network***, addicts will be calling Comcast and Time Warner. The ketogenicdiet was making me crazy. I nearly cried when I found a package of noodles in the pantry. Totally forgotten. it was a sign.

That smell certainly isn't a red wine reduction sauce for spaghetti.

Back when I lived in Madison, I didn't have food places nearby. I lived with health nut, and for some reason I don't fathom I was working to lose weight. maybe lack of easy access, maybe a model of good behavior. Whatever it was, I don't have it now.

Now I admit I am completely unmotivated

I lost my harajuku moment.

Wow, this is a depressing post.

As soon as I figure out how to post pictures in a useful manner (not just at the top of the post), there will be kittens. This is my oath to you. Kittens and cupcakes. So many kittens.

I'd do fine if I had a private chef and personal trainer. Would that I lived in a magical land where that could happen. But clearly I am too pretty for that. And I bet the grapes there taste sour, anyway. ****

So don't vote for me. Yet.

All i can do is get back on the horse. Once I go 5 days without eating crap, That's when you should bet on me. Let me win a few races, first, then vote for me.

But go ahead and post a comment on how I can motivate myself. Because, as I posted on my blog in the past, accountability and tracking are working about as well as betting on the greyhounds.

Cheers

This will be posted in SIMUL-BLOG on my other blog. I promise to post there less.

OOH! Also, Penelope trunk has been writing a shitstorm of her, well, shit. So another rant is coming!

*Imagine me drinking a glass of wine lying on a couch, twirling my mustache when I say this. I am surrounded by minions, ready to do battle with the Hero. That's hopw I imagine it.

**Swinging a katana around furiously and semi-randomly while making "woosh" noises.

***Copyrighted, me, now.

**** Those pictures stolen from other places and used for parody purposes*****. Please don't sue me, I have nothing to take.

***** This is really getting out of hand.******

****** Now I'm just messing with you.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why is it called Free Grad degree?

Originally it was how to get the equivalent of a Graduate degree without paying for it. Sort of a Good Will Hunting-esque endeavor. I got a bit sidetracked. I am still working on that, but it's taken a back seat. I'm a Gemeni. I flit from idea to idea. Or so my superstitious friends tell me.

IT ENDS TONIGHT!

The only person who will get that doesn't read this blog.

So it goes.

I may be MIA for a few days due to longer work hours, but I will tell you, I am tired of making excuses for bad behavior.

Looks like I have fans, but I am the only one who can hold me accountable.

So tomorrow I start doing so. Despite cravings, both psychological (habits) and hormonal (diabetes), I shall start the Slow-Carb Diet again. this may make me a cranky S.O.B. - OK, more of a cranky S.O.B- but I want very much to get back in shape.

One last thing. You know you've reached "That age" - and it can come at any time in your life, mind- but "that age" is surely here when you spend as much time psyching yourself up for a BM as you do going out to the club.

Cheers!

Promises Promises

So,

Penelope Trunk wrote this uninspired self-aggrandizing schlock the other day.

Seriously, it is only my desire to keep this at least somewhat legitimate and pleasant that I don't say more than simply, "That girl has cooties." Seriously. She has a cootie infestation.*

"Let's write about how being rich gives my dumbass kids opportunities you don't get and call it an uplifting and useful post.

OK, Penny, dear, let's do that

1. Get accustomed to trying new things:

To fins work you love, you have to try new things. I'm sure that works for some skinny white cootie-head from New York, but for the rest of us, we are a little stuck. You think that farmer bailing hay decided one day to just up and leave his big job in the city and become put on a straw hat?

That does happen, certainly, but for most people the choice isn't that easy. Most people settle. And that is OK.

Most of us have jobs, and lack the ability to just up and try new things. Time and Money -especially money, are short.

In addition, anything is fun for a day, or for 3 days. Do it for a year. Then tell me that you like it. And if you didn't, then you just wasted a year. And if you did, you might be good enough to do it professionally.

I'm not advocating not trying. I'm just saying, be realistic. Your mom isn't taking you out for a weekend trip to farmer Bob.

2. Don't think you are above prestige.

What does this have to do with anything. I know a guy, he's a bartender. Prestigious? No. But he loves it. He's good at it. Who the heck cares if he's famous for it?

In addition, I always thought writer meant "unemployed" and blogger meant "unemployed with an internet connection." I've met dozens of "writers" shucking coffee and pumping gas.

Find out what you like. Do it when you can. Who cares about prestige. If you like pumping gas, pump gas, talk about pumping gas. Pump gas so the angels weep. Pump gas so well that the hosts of heaven and earth will pause and say 'Here lived a great gas pumper who did his job well.'

The same goes for knitting or woodblock printing

In my case, I like Art, Drinking, Martial and Venusian Arts, and posting to my blog. I hate my day job. So what do I talk about, do you think?

Getting caught up in what other people think is madness. It devalues you.

Also, when I was a kid the answer wasn't smaller bales. It was "get stronger."

3. Seek to understand your impact.

This is apparently where she slid in a "boy am I special and so is my son" bit. I'll ignore her self-aggrandizing. I'll do so because I will probably self-aggrandize, too. It's fun to talk yourself up. Almost as fun as tearing others down. Which you shouldn't do.

Let me be clear, though. Your impact is much smaller than you think. You don't matter nearly as much as you think. And so what? I helped a guy decide what weight vest to wear once. That's fine. I don't need to change the world. I don't necessarily want to. Thinking that everything you do belongs in this grand beautiful narrative is to put it colloquially, lamesauce.

I don't know. Maybe I grew up in a different time. Maybe my upbringing had more to do with 1940s Americana than Post-9/11. But to me, it doesn't matter if it's important if 1) I like it, and 2) it needs to be done.

If you do your job well, you will make an impact. So worry about doing well, not impressing others.

I know, the argument against her last point sucks. It may be the best cliche of the bunch she throws at you. Even a blind squirrel finds a nut.

Do you want to do what you love? Well, if you are older than 16 and don't know, then I suggest you look at your hobbies. If you still struggle, listen to what you talk about. What sort of conversations get you animated? If you still have trouble, ask your friends what gets you animated.

And, god help you. If you still don't know, go to the library and get a book on something - anything, and keep doing it until you get excited.

And - this is the most important part - do it well.

I'll say that again. Do it well.

Forget impact, forget prestige, forget everything. Just do what you like well and as often as you can. And then tell everyone you can.

I don't believe in Talent. I believe what we call talent is enthusiasm plus effort over obstacles plus cost..

I'll give you an example: I will never be a Ballet dancer. I wanted to be one when I was younger. I loved the movement. But with legs that dwarf small trees and a fat ass, there were many obstacles to my career in Russia. Could I have become a dancer? Sure, I became a passable ballroom dancer in my youth. But I was never enthused enough to truly put effort into it. So it never panned out.

My friend Calvin is an Auto mechanic. He's very talented. I swear that he once laid his hands on my car and brought it back to life. He is a car Jesus. Was he born with any special talent? Not really. he just liked cars so much that no obstacle or cost bothered him. He now commands a very high salary, and can work basically anywhere.

And Calvin isn't the only one. I have many friends who found things that enthused them so much they became good. And then I've met people who followed who never quite did as well.

On to business:

Well, no one posted a comment last time, so the $5 will go into a jar. So now it's 10 bucks to the first comment if I don't stay on my diet.

Today was busy. I picked up supplies for woodblock printing and went food shopping. I didn't stay on my diet, however.

That's surprise one. I've decided to go back into Art. Looks like my Masters may be a Fine Arts degree. Well, I may still be unemployable, but at least I'll enjoy it!

Second surprise: I am moving to a different site. Not sure if It's a complete move or if I'll just post here and there in Simulblog!**. I'm new to blogging, so the whole scene is confusing.

Cheers

* I suppose egotistical snot is closer to the truth whilst still maintaining a soft PG rating

**That's copyrighted, by me. Use it and I'll SUE!

Late evening

I got in late tonight.

It's clear, kiddos, that I can't be trusted with a sack of cash, or a diet, unless I promise to give money to my readers

So here's the deal.

I shall give 5 dollars to the first comment if I fail to keep my slow-carb diet tomorrow.

I was hoping to rant about another blog I read, calling her all sorts of mean names and saying she has cooties, but that will have to wait until tomorrow afternoon.

So, I promise 3 things tomorrow afternoon: Slow-carb diet, 2 surprises, Cooties.

Stay frosty!

Evening's rant

Sorry, dear readers, I'm not posting anything much tonight.

The winner of the $5 challenge is: me. I stayed on my Ketogenic diet today. Roop-roop.

I am feeling a bit surly, melancholic and bellicose, so rather than bring everybody down, i'll just post a few things:

One, as Stephen points out: Being fat sucks because people suck.

I ate today:

Breakfast: 1 and 1/2 cups lentils

Lunch: 1 egg cooked in butter and a bowl of buttered vegetables

Dinner: 3/4 a lbs of chicken cooked in butter

Totals: 72 grams fat, 79 grams carbs, and 78 grams protein. Dietary Fiber soemwhare around 33 grams. 1444 calories.

Hardly seems Ketogenic. Just seems like I ate very little today.

Rode my bike leisurely for an hour.

Peaches. I hear from a very reliable source...

...that they come in a can. And that they were put there by a man, in a factory, downtown.

We have a peach tree in the yard. This makes sticking on a slow-carb diet a little harder.

Tomorrow is "cheat day," a phrase which lost most of it's meaning when I stopped the slow-carb diet two weeks back. I don't remember the triggering event. Maybe it was pizza. Maybe it was moon-men. I'll blame it on Moon men.

Moon men are total assholes.

Quick run down on what I ate today. I calculated carbs and proteins and such until my 2 o'clock panic and binge. I wasn't feeling particularly hungry or cranky. But I eat when I am stressed, bored, or simply out of some chthonic and inertial habit. My 2:15 cups of hot cocoa were a combination of all three.

Who in there right mind drinks hot cocoa in the summer in Florida?

Well, I wasn't in my right mind. Stressed from work, a little bored, and not paying attention, I drank 4 cups without noticing.

Most of my calories came in the morning. The day started out OK. Eggs and Lentils, 40 grams of protein, like I ought, at 8:30 am. Then sausage at 11 am. That was a little overmuch. Hitting 1000 calories before 12 am. But still ketogenic, so I should be OK, right? I'll eat less for the rest of the day, I thought.

Oh, Jason, you naive bastard.

By 1 I had drank 3 glasses of wine, and by 2pm, when I get off work, 4 cups of hot cocoa.

Screw it.

See, the thing about a diet or lifestyle change (Thanks, Tom, for reminding us they are synonymous), is that it requires some combination of time, effort, and money. And I really have not one.

Tim talks about being lazy and losing weight, simply by tracking data. But, being diabetic, my body doesn't play by the rules. It spills my coffee, takes my taxi, and gives me the finger.

So I sit on the curb, coffee-stained and late for weight-loss Friday at work.

The slow-carb diet works, but you have to be motivated or smart about it. Lentils are great, but damned if cooking them is a bit of a pain. And even so, I really can't eat that many. I need to keep starchy carbs under 100 grams. That means only 2 cups a day with other vegetables.

Anyway, dear readers, you may shame me for my over eating! That's supposed to work, right?

Maybe just send the space-bears from Mars to steal my women!

Hmm.. this was supposed to be more inspiring! OK, dear readers, let's try this.

What do you suggest as punishment for over-eating? Ave Marias? Flagellation? Space-bears?

The first person who comments will get $5 if I don't follow a slow-carb ketogenic diet tomorrow.

Another $5 to the funniest punishment, again, if I don't stay Ketogenic* tomorrow

Also, Tomorrow I make peach brandy liqueur. It's one of my electives for Free Grad School. Chemistry, or something.