My weight, as of this morning.
One of the few benefits of being sick (besides your wife bringing you Hot Toddies in bed) is the weight loss that occasionally accompanies it. I’m working Day Two of whatever-crap-the-kids-brought-home-this-time, and have lost about four pounds already. Piss off, Jared. Who needs Subway when you’ve got the flu?
At this pace, I’ll be under 200 pounds again by the weekend. Can’t lose too much weight, though. With my big cranium and a hairline receding faster than I’d really care to admit, I’d look pretty much like this if I got too skinny:
Also, since some of us have thrown around the idea of heading out together some time in the future, I should let everyone know that dancing is totally out of the question for me. I don’t dance. Physically incapable. When people see me dance in public, their first instinct is to call 911 and report some goofy lookin’ white dude having a seizure. If I was 3x better, I’d look like this:
Couple drinks in me, though, and I’m totally down with the karaoke action. As long as it’s at some place y’all don’t want to be let back into again in the future. My singing has that effect.
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