Day 31 – 03/01/02

To quote Thea: “Weight Wussies is bunch of shit.”

Not only have I never felt like I have needed any support while I have been trying to diet, I openly mock those who do. Weight Wussies is bullshit.

My first experience with Weight Wussies was also my first experience with dieting back when I was in sixth grade. A bunch of my extended family, who shall remain nameless because this is so shameful, joined Weight Wussies so they could lose weight together. I remember them talking about the meetings. I remember them all getting on the scale in the kitchen of an unnamed relatives house before Sunday dinner. I remember them measuring pieces of chicken. I seem to remember them hugging each other more than usual and talking to the family with this new age conversion tone in their voices. I remember seeing them at Easter and all of them were noticeably skinnier. I remember thinking on the following Thanksgiving, after all of them quit Weight Wussies, that they looked even fatter than before they started.

Have my unnamed relatives kept the weight off? Ha ha ha. You make me laugh. They are fatter than ever and probably thinking about joining another Weight Wussies program right now.

I thought that this went without saying but if you need a support group of crybabies, special foods already packaged for you or magic potions to lose weight, you are a loser – and a fat loser at that because you are not going to lose any weight by hanging out with fat crybabies eating diet cookies or diet fudge (This shit literally kills me. Diet cookies. Diet fudge. Low calorie snack chips. Are you fucking kidding me? THE REASON THAT PEOPLE ARE FAT IS BECAUSE THEY EAT TOO MANY SNACKS. Don’t replace the Dolly Madison, Hostess or Little Debby snack cakes with Healthy Choice. Just don’t eat snacks.) or taking magic fat potions. All of these things are part of the bigger problem, being a disgusting fat person, and Weight Wussies and false diet snacks are only masking the problem instead of ripping it out by the heart and stomping on it on the floor.

I love the false dieter. Their antics are my inspiration. The false dieter goes to meeting and cries about being fat with other fat people. The false dieter eats prepackaged diet foods or drinks special fat milkshakes to shed the one or two pounds per millennium that clubs of tubs like Weight Wussies can get fat people to lose. The false dieter eats all of the cookies, candies and complementary sandwiches with full on fat cheese that are sitting around the office five days a week and thinks that they are going to be able to take that off in the gym.

The false dieter loves to talk about their diet around the office.

“I think that I deserve a small piece of pie filled cake as a special treat for myself for how good I am doing on my diet. I will be able to burn it off with more false exercise. I walked from my car in the garage to the lobby in the building this morning so I guess that it all evens out.”

I love the false dieter. I love Weight Wussies.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 204 (false reading. weighed before showered instead of after. lost pound. not three. the scale is your only friend. even if it is a damn liar.)
Eaten = apple, yogurt, orange, oatmeal, power bar, salsa salad, chicken and beans casserole, cup of orange juice
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two and a half miles

posted by Thea at 7:30 AM

Day 30 – 02/28/02

Thea and I are now halfway through the dieting project. I am want to spend today’s entry reflecting on the past thirty days and looking forward to the next thirty days of dieting and progress. I am want to use the word want.

I am still tired – more tired than I should be. Last night, my wife made a delicious Mexican like chicken and bean casserole. It is amazing what a teaspoon of olive oil and some corn meal will do to a meal. Was it diet food? No way. How could it when it tasted that good? The wife and I watched “Mifune” and “The Salesman” on DVD. I slept. I woke up today still very tired. I need to start drinking more coffee or figure out a way to get more caffeine into my system. My sluggishness and grogginess is bringing me down.

I am a dedicated home repair enthusiast. Since we have been back from California, I have gutted the basement completely of walls and scraped all of the old Drylock and masonry patches off of the foundation walls. I am waiting for the weather to turn before I apply new patches and Drylock. I need to reinforce the floor joists, install a new shower, rewire the lighting and get our new washer/dryer installed before Easter. We have been taking our clothes to the Laundromat for a month. That truly does suck. I also have to fix my wife’s closet door, re-hang a the basement and bedroom doors and hang a couple of curtain rods. All of this must be done by Easter. Will it happen? I don’t know. I can’t say for sure.

In Assholier than Thou news: I have been listening to every show that we have done since it all started on July 26, 1999, noting the funny bits and burning best-of CDs. I usually listen to two shows per day. I am done with 1999. I am going to clip January 2000 to April 200 on Saturday. That leaves May 2000 to December 2000. I have to type up all of the notes. That is something else to do. Thea and I are going to try pitching a diet parody book based on the show. More work. Also, I have to finish all of my service to the radio station by Easter. That is like ten more hours of work filing CDs and the like.

I am going to be a struggling writer for the rest of my life. I have been cranking out 500 words a day on these dieting diaries to get my chops up for my next book, “Heavy Metal High School” which I am starting Easter Sunday. The book is going to be my first attempt at writing straight comedy ala “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” without getting too involved with the typical psychological struggles mixed with massive depression and paranoia that I normally deal with in my writing. This will be a challenge. I am writing a bio for San Francisco garage rockers the Sermon (ex-Revelers, Mt. McKinleys and the Fells). I am going out of town in March to follow Boulder and Keelhaul on the road and write about that and I have been working on a short story called ”Free Jazz Scat Singer”. Progress must be made on all of these fronts if I am going to win the battle against myself.

It seems like a lot to do. Yesterday was the last day off that I am going to take until Easter Sunday. No more watching TV one night a week with my wife. No more Sundays at the Beachwood mall. Now is the time when I really need to push it. I need to get it in gear. I need to move. I need to get down with it.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 207
Eaten = yogurt, dry cereal, apple, two oranges, oatmeal, turkey sandwich and a salsa salad
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two miles

posted by Thea at 7:20 AM

Day 29 – 02/27/02

I have a weird relationship with dieting. I have a weird relationship with food. I have a weird relationship with exercise. I have a weird relationship with women. I have some unrelated commentary on all of these issues that I am going to share with the viewer today.

I got home yesterday from work and I was almost delirious with hunger and exhaustion. I ate my dinner and I was not satisfied. I felt like binging. I felt like purging. I felt like practicing in the blackest of all arts. What is up with that? Why do I have the desire to participate in such activity? I don’t know. I am messed up in the head. I should seek out qualified medical advice but instead I call Thea on the phone. I tell her the story and she loads me up with enthusiasm. She is both pumped and psyched up specifically about “The Ringer” and in general about the diet. She talked me off of the bridge. What is up with me being thirty years old and being such a close friend with an adult woman? Most dudes have their dogs. I have Thea. What is up with that?

Last night, I unloaded all of the garbage that came with me tearing out all of the walls in my basement. My basement is now empty like a roller rink. It took me a couple of hours of sawing and hauling the wood and last bits of drywall out to the curb. After I was finished, I was in pain. It was also too damn cold, icy and windy for a walk. What is up with this weather? Get warm already. Even though I was dead on my feet and freezing my ass off from taking out the trash, I went for a couple mile hike anyhow. What is up with that? Why didn’t I just go to bed? I earned it. What’s more, I have enemies from when I weighed 304 lbs. That was thirteen years ago. I have not seen these people for over a decade. I focus my hatred on these people when I exercise to get me both pumped and psyched. Why can’t I let it go? Why can’t I turn the page? What is up with that?

I have been married for almost four years and my wife and I have been living together for eight. We first went out when we were teenagers. What is up with that? It was three years ago at this time when my wife and I went on our first diet together. It was the first time, on this diet that featured chicken breasts and yams (don’t ask), that I felt love (or what is now my definition of love or whatever – also, don’t ask). Like an idiot, I announced to my wife right before dinner, after we were already married, that I was in love with her for the first time. What is up with that? Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? She was understandably alarmed and perplexed by my wild admission. But she rode it out like she always does and we lost weight – together. From then since, I feel that my wife is on my team. She is pretty solid. Last night, I was sharing with her some issues – issues so private that they will forever remain off mic – after my ice cold walk. She laughed in the light hearted way that she laughs at my paranoia, anxiety and fear. What is up with that? Why doesn’t she take me seriously? She told me that I should lighten up. What is up with that? And I felt better. I think that she is right. I should lighten up. What is up with that? How did I get to the point in life where my mental well-being is rapped up in some little girl? How did this happen? What is up with that?

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.


Lbs. = 207
Eaten = yogurt, banana, cup of apple juice, dry cereal, orange, oatmeal, half of turkey sandwich, chicken bean casserole
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two miles

posted by Thea at 7:22 AM

Day 27 – 02/25/02

Today, I hit the zone – of sorts.

I have been working myself into an early grave. It is not so much that I am pushing myself to get things done around the house or with my life or anything important me – it has been busy at work and that is bad. I can tolerate my job when I am working at my normal pace around the office but when things get busy and I have to hustle, it just gets bad. Work should not interfere with my life. I should not be in the office on a Saturday. Work is the place where I do the Alcatraz workout and think about things that are meaningful to me. Do you know what is important to me? I don’t know either but I don’t want work interfering with whatever it is that I am supposed to be thinking about because it is actually important to me.

Work - the necessary evil.

One of the good things about being too busy is that you don’t think about eating. The reason that I think that I am in the zone is because I went through the entire day at work without thinking food at all. I went home today at 7:00 p.m. without sticking one thing in my mouth. Starvation and purity. I was wondering out loud to my wife how long I could go without food and not feel hungry. She freaked out and I ate. I am glad that she is there to keep me from dying. She is trying to get me to eat vitamins. I think that she really does care about me.

I am quickly realizing that nothing that I am writing is making much sense to me. I am on auto-pilot. I am turning myself into the machine that I always hoped to be. The unfortunate problem is I am not able to enjoy all of this dieting fun and excitement because I am so out of it. Also, I don’t seem to be losing any weight. What is up with that?

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 208
Eaten = salsa salad, tuna, granola cereal and a cup of apple juice
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two miles

Day 28 – 02/26/02

I think that I am exhausted. I don’t really know what that means or how I would officially classify exhaustion but I actually believe that I might be going through it. I am tired, yes, that must be indicated to the viewer, but I am also not feeling good on top of it. My body is not working right. I can barely type this out. Not being able to type properly makes BLOGGING difficult. I have to focus on the typing of these letters. This is not good. I think that if I had been a star in Hollywood, CA in the forties or fifties, I would be checking myself into a spa type resort in Palm Springs, CA right now and telling my agent that I have tired blood. I need some down time. I am working too much.

I was at the Justice Center this morning on the job. It is a wild scene. Wild. The human gumbo that you get thrown into at any public building, say the library or the Department of Motor Vehicle, is enough to sicken a stomach made of cast iron. Humanity = garbage. The people around you are putrid disgusting pieces of filth. My skin is still crawling and I have been back at the office for a couple of hours. I am going to bathe in disinfectant tonight to purify myself from the contact with the not-so-great unwashed.

At the Justice Center for the 9 a.m. call time, I was pressed up against criminal dirt bags as soon as I entered the doors. Criminal dirt bags are too stupid to get through a medical detector on the first try, so there is a crowd at the doors of the Justice Center all the time. When you get past the metal detectors, you have to wait in a herd like crowded line to take the elevators up to the courtrooms. Criminal dirt bags are usually poor. Poor people are often fat. Oh, do I love humanity. It is a myth that if you are poor, you will starve to death- not in this country. The American way is if you are poor, you just eat the cheapest food available which also happens to be the worst for you. Poor people love fast food. Criminal dirt bags love fast food.

I saw enough fat disgusting pieces of garbage today at the Justice Center to make me never want to eat a potato chip again. If you are looking for inspiration on your own personal dieting journey, go to a public building. Most people who are overly dependent on assistance or input from the government are fat. The United States of America – home of the obese.

As a bonus: I was the last person to get on a packed elevator when I was leaving the Justice Center from the eighteenth floor. The elevator stopped, of course, on every floor going down from 18 to 10. After ten, the elevator is an express. The other people on the elevator commented that the elevator was too full every time the door opened. Dirt bag criminals love to comment. On the twelfth floor, a super sized man approached the opening doors and looked up simultaneously. Nobody on the elevator had to tell this guy that there was no room. The other people on the elevator stood there silently looking at his massive fat self. He disappointedly backed away from the elevator almost immediately. The other people on the elevator all laughed at this poor fat bastard when the elevator doors closed – because he was fat. They were right to laugh at the fat man. He sure was fat.

Yes, I am horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 208
Eaten = tangelo, yogurt, banana, oatmeal, apple, power bar, salsa salad, two vegatble patties, handful of pretzels and a cup of orange juice
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two miles







posted by Thea at 5:03 PM

Day 25 – 02/23/02

“I would like to explain how it came to pass that I got fat. I got fat …”

I was thinking this morning while lying in bed and monitoring the pain that my body is in, that these dieting diaries, at least on my part – I think that Thea is doing a great job with actual dieting advice, have been light on the technical data. These are supposed to be how-to oriented. I figured, while staring and my swollen knuckle, that I would let some of the tricks of weight gain and loss loose on the paper this morning, so the viewer might get some practical knowledge out of this exercise.

First, how I gain weight. I ballooned from 186 lbs. in eighth grade to 304 lbs. as a junior in high school. I was always fat and I will always be fat. I have accepted that as my lot in life. I can deal with it. But I don’t think that it is recommended or proper to weigh 304lbs. Miss Manners would not approve.

I was always a secret binge eater who would tear through everything that there was to eat in the house the minute that I was alone. My parent’s used to make weekly trips to Dairy Queen and I, being that I was getting old enough to stay at home alone, would not go so I could get some quality time and privacy. While they were making the trip down Broadway into Bedford, OH, I would eat anything in the house that was available. All the leftovers. All the snacks. Popcorn. Ice tea. I would eat until I was literally sick. I heard a story that horses will eat until they die if given the opportunity. I must be a horse since I do not have an off switch.

This went on for a couple of years with not too damaging results because my working class family had six members and there was never too much extra food in the house.

We moved from the Warner/Turney neighborhood of Cleveland, OH to Garfield Hts., OH the summer before I entered the eighth grade. Since we were in the safety of the suburbs and I was getting older, I got a paper route. That meant loads of disposable income to be spent on comic books, records and snacks. We lived a block away from an Open Pantry/Lawson’s/Dairy Mart. Fifth Avenue Candy Bars. Pringles. Cherry Coke. Hostess pies. Every night before bed. I started gaining weight.

In high school, I had no friends since I was from a catholic school and everybody else from Ss. Peter & Paul went to Trinity. I kept on eating because I was depressed and hungry. I eventually made friends with some dudes who all worked together… at a pizza shop. I was sick of waking up to deliver the papers after a few years and wanted to work with my buddies… at a pizza shop. I ate and ate and ate on the job… at the pizza shop.

I was depressed so I ate. I was fat so I was depressed. I was depressed so I ate.

I woke up one morning and weighed 304 lbs.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 208
Eaten = granola cereal, cup of milk, two bananas, vegetarian chili, handful of pretzels, three pickles and a cup of orange juice
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two and a half miles

Day 26 – 02/24/02

I am still monitoring the pain that is all over my body. I would give you the finger but I can’t open my hand properly.

As the viewer can see by yesterday’s BLOG (I love that word. I have got to keep on BLOGGING.), that the road to obesity is filled with food. Yesterday’s installment was simply some back story to bring the viewer up to speed with where I have been at in life. If the viewer needed to hear that eating pizza while working at a pizza shop is going to cause you to gain massive amounts of weight, well, damn, I guess there is no hope for the viewer if the viewer needed to see that.

I have got my binge eating problem almost completely in check, so, the viewer may ask, how do you gain weight now since you are so obviously a fat disgusting pile a blubber.

That’s easy. I eat too much in general and the wrong things in particular.

I dropped a quick twenty pounds last year before my friend Joe’s wedding. The secret = look at what I am eating everyday now on this diet and cut a few things. I did not eat yogurt.

I immediately put the twenty pounds back on after the wedding while painting my house last summer. Here is how it goes: Painting a house is extremely time consuming. There is only so many hours of daylight in a day. I have to work 9 to 5. I want to work on the house as much as possible per day. Painting a house is extremely time consuming. Also, climbing up and down ladders all night after a full day of work is tiring. I don’t want to waste any time after I get home from work preparing a meal. Painting a house is extremely time consuming. Fast food. Take out. Sandwiches. Pizza. Chips. And lots of it. Fat food for energy and motivation to get you through such a horrible project. You can’t work on an empty stomach. After climbing ladders for three hours, you are hungry again. Giant bowl of ice cream before bed. Twenty pounds comes right back on.

Oh, did I mention throughout all of this that I was getting no real exercise. Twenty pounds comes right back on.

Friday night, I got home after work and immediately wanted to tear down the walls in my basement. I am still in pain from the project today. I ate a turkey sandwich and some pretzels as quickly as I could. And then I had one of my wife’s taunting chocolate chip cookies baked in the oven to sabotage me. That is how you put on twenty pounds.

I did not have a snack after working for four hours in the basement even though my body told me that I was hungry and my soul told me that I deserved it. I went to bed and felt good about not eating any more food. That is how I am going to beat it.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 208

posted by Thea at 10:09 AM