It is random Friday

A Friday Haiku

Friday Friday Yay!

Friday Friday Friday Yay!

Friday Friday Yay!

Weigh-In Friday

Damn you, Easter candy! Damn you, Cadbury mini eggs! Why must you be so tempting and delicious?

The only consoling fact is, now you’re gone for another year and there is nothing else out there that is an adequate substitute.

Hey hey you you get offa my floor

There’s this guy from a different floor, from a completely different division, who literally has no reason to be on our floor, yet he comes up every day to use our restroom.

And every single time he leaves it smelling like the sewer backed up.

Which, unless I miss my guess, is probably why he does it. He has most likely been banished from his own floor’s restroom.

I’ve been seriously contemplating buying several cans of Febreeze and attacking the room with double-barrel action like that commercial, it’s that bad.

Maybe if I do it every time he’s in there, he’ll find another floor to terrorize.

What a maroon

Can anyone believe what a moron the orange turd is? In his attacks of Amazon (because Amazon is owned by Jeff Bezos, who also owns the Washington Post, which is critical of the orange turd), Trumpy the Clown has shown that he has no idea how the United States Post Office works. He thinks Amazon uses the Post Office as their personal delivery boy.

Well, first, that is their job. They are America’s delivery boy.

Second, Amazon pays them for the service (just like the rest of us do), they don’t get packages delivered for free (ever hear of postage stamps, Donnie?). In that way, Amazon is actually supporting the Post Office.

Third, Trumpy the Clown hates Jeff Bezos because, as I said, he owns the Washington Post, which is critical of Donnie. In other words, it tells the truth about what a lying, crooked piece of orange shit Trumpy is. But more than that, Trumpy is jealous of Bezos’ success because Bezos was named the richest man in the world sometime in 2017 while Trumpy is always declaring bankruptcy, ruining businesses, and destroying lives.

The second ignorant thing Trumpy the Clown said was when he admitted he had no idea what a Community College was. Seriously? Out of touch much?

And lastly, Trumpy tweeted this:

showing that he has no clue how our economy works, or how the commodities market functions.

You just signed the fucking bill yesterday, you dope!

Can he become more ignorant?

The answer is: Yes, daily.

He’s also a lying by omission. Yes, aluminum decreased 4%, but that’s after they skyricketed in March after he first announced the tariff.

Last Word

As you can tell by my haiku, I’m pleased as punch that it’s Friday. It’s been a long week, but we made it to the weekend.

And as always, I leave you with a song:

Keep resisting.

-30-

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Will power needed

It’s been a ghastly holiday season from a gastrological point of view.

I stopped weighing myself in early November and that was probably my big mistake.

Probably, because I indulged excessively in holiday cookies. As well as appetizers at the family get-togethers.

I will admit that I did not overindulge when it came to meals themselves. I’ve never been one to gorge myself on Thanksgiving turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and cranberry relish. Never.

Unlike many peopme, my plate has always had plenty of white space on it. I merely take a small sampling of each dish. And I very rarely eat dessert.

I have never understood the purpose of holiday overeating. As a child, I watched relatives stuff themselves until they couldn’t any more, then they’d sit around and complain how full they are. “I can’t believe I ate so much.”

So why did you do it? No one forced you. There is no expected famine. Gluttony makes no sense.

I remember one sister-in-law, who shall remain nameless, brought a bottle of Pepto-Bismol to one Thanksgiving. My wife and I would visit one of our mom’s for a few hours, then we’d go to the other mom’s place for the evening.

This SIL did the same, going to her mother’s after finishing here.

After the Thanksgiving meal, she pulled out the bottle of Pepto and said, “I don’t know how you do it. Eating one huge meal then going to the other side of the family to eat another huge meal.”

We just stared at her. “We don’t eat a second meal when we leave here. We just have drinks and appetizers.”

I mean, seriously, it’s bad enough to gorge yourself at one meal but two in the same day?

But stuffing myself isn’t how I got myself in trouble. It was a cookie craving. We didn’t bake any this year (no spritz cookies! Sad face.), but we did pick up cookies from the suoermarket, including cookies freshly baked by some local bakeries.

And I ate those mindlessly, not counting or caring.

And I paid for it. I didn’t weigh myself — I was afraid of what the scale would say — but the visible evidence was there. My stomach was mocking me in the mirror. “You thought I was gone, didn’t you? Think again, because I’m baa-aack!”

I resolved, without making any resolutions, to get serious about exercise and eating right.

And I started the year off well. I ran the 1st, the 2nd, the 3rd. Unfortunately, my streak was to end there.

I was laid low by a cold. I didn’t run on the 4th because of chest congestion. Friday the 5th was worse. And I laid around that entire weekend, consuming nothing but liquids: coffee, teas, and soups.

Monday, the 8th, I felt no better and stayed home from work. Ditto Tuesday. Wednesday, I felt so bad I went to urgent care.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. The last time I took more than two consecutive sick days off was when I had shoulder surgery. Taking off sick from work just isn’t something I do.

Prognosis? Bronchitis and a left ear infection. They gave me antibiotics. Bit the thing that shocked me was stepping on the scale. Theirs read 218 pounds! That can’t be right! I’ve been on a liquid diet, for Cripe’s sake!

I weighed myself when I got home. My scale, which I’m still not sure how accurate it is, read 207.7 pounds. Better than their scale (why do they weigh younwith your shoes on?). Not as bad, but not good either.

Thursday I stayed home, but Friday the 12th I went in. My boss sent me home after half a day because I sounded so bad.

I had a three day weekend, thanks to MLK Jr Day, and when Tuesday, yesterday, rolled around, I made it to work. I went in even though I still wasn’t 100% (and still aren’t. I still have a cough, sore throat, and sniffles).

When I got home, I forced myself to run. It was a slow pace, just 5 mph, for about 1.25 miles. But it was better than nothing.

At that point, I had gone 13 days without any exercise.

I have to get back into a regular exercise routine. I have to get back into running shape and start lifting weights again.

I’ve let myself slide too far and I have to shore things up.

But dammit! It’s Girl Scout cookie time!

-30-