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.