The D vs The Sidewalk: THE SHOWDOWN

Howdy! Are you in as much pain as I am right now ‘cause if you are we should throw ourselves a pity party and give each other King size Snickers and Wild Turkey.

What? You have no idea what I'm talking about? Oh yea, I forgot to tell you about my latest trip because I am DELIRIOUS WITH PAIN!

As I tell you the story of my latest debacle I may get off the subject. I think that is understandable because I either keep passing out, or I have to stop the story and cry just a little bit. BECAUSE OF THE EXCRUCIATING PAIN THAT I AM ENDURING!!!

I was out running 8 miles last night with about 1.5 miles or so remaining, I was going downhill, totally exhausted but still running as best I could. I was heading north on the Missouri side of Stateline Road running past Westwood Park, when I tripped and fell…hard!

On the way down the first thing that I thought as I was airborne, and headed for the rock hard sidewalk, might have been "Nothing good can come of this" or maybe it was "This is gonna leave a mark" or come to think of it, it was probably "FFFFFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!" I landed on my right shoulder, with a thud, (if I was still fat it would have been SLAT!), a bonk, (that would be my SKULL hitting the ground). Luckily my SKULL apparently bounces (because it’s full of hot air, Hay-O!), and a SREACH, he sliding across about 2 or 3 WHOLE SLABS OF PORTLAND CEMENT. As I slid on the concrete it ripped the sleeve off my favorite running shirt. But that is not big deal I can get another one from my company.

After the shirt sleeve ripped off, after only sliding about half a slab of concrete the realization that my skin was going to be next then set in, and I tried to prepare for the rush of absolutely INSUFFERARABLE pain to come racing toward my gray matter.Before I began the SLIDE of DEATH my head hit the concrete and I think I passed out for a bit. But because I'm a former Marine and tough as nails, I just took it like a man, and started to cry a little bit, once I sat up writhing in pain. When I was finished sliding across the concrete which was about as smooth as the Hima-fuckin’-layas! I sat up grabbing my shoulder and just hoping it would not fall off. (Because then I would have to beat someone with the bloody end of my arm, and there was no one around. So that means I would have to beat myself again. Wait, what did I just say?)

While sitting there holding my shoulder and wishing I had another left arm to hold on to the piece of skin that I thought was dangling over my right eye. Thankfully that wasn’t the case somehow my shirt tail came up over my head. I remember thinking "Man, that was one fucked up trip and I wasn't even high. I hope someone caught that on video". Then I remembered that I wasn’t a celebrity (because I'm too good looking (and AWESOME) for those slackers, Clooney who?) and don't have the paparazzi following me everywhere I go. Fo-shizzle!

The worst part is that I think I really jacked up my shoulder/neck/collar bone/skull area. I don't any thing’s broken because I have full mobility in my neck and shoulder. Btw, can everyone else move part of their skull while the rest stays in place while hearing a grinding noise? Cause I apparently can, NOW! My shoulder hurts like a MO-FO and the edges of the road rash are already turning black and blue.

The pain is EXCRUCIATING!!! People!!! You don't even understand!! You cannot comprehend that amount of suffering I am enduring. (What's with all the big words in this paragraph?) I'd take pictures but I can't find my camera i.e. it's not right in front of me, and I'm in no mood to look for it.

My right arm is in too much pain to even move. But I can move it which tells me it's not broken or dislocated.

Because, as you know, I'm an orth-fuckin-opedic doctor and shit! And I can examine myself thankyouverymuch. Besides, I know how to perform a self diagnosis on my own bone(s).

Luckily I don’t have any road rash or scratches to my face or head. Because all I have is my good looks (shut your face!) and we all know that ain’t much. I would really be mad if my face had a nice case of road rash, I would end up looking like some burn victim or a child that grew up near Chernobyl.

The good news of this story (like anything good can come of this) is that after my last brush with death I went out and bought a fully stocked ambulance full of first aid supplies which I keep parked in my garage. I don’t even know what half this stuff is for.
So I got to break that puppy out, which I was pretty excited about once I walked the final 1.5 miles home with blood running down my arm and dripping on the sidewalk.

After I cleaned the wound, which looks like your standard road rash. I how have a nice new kick ass bandage on my shoulder that is about the side of Mon-fuckin’-tana, and the most awesome headache ever.

I'm gonna need some of you single hot chicks to come over and take care of me. Talk amongst yourselves and set up a schedule.

How was your Columbus Day? Glad somebody had a good time.

Can you believe I just typed this whole post with my one good arm? And to make that feat even more amazing I did it with my left hand, I'm right handed.

FYI: Inserting "Fuckin'" into the middle of words is now my new thing. I called it!

Thanks for reading and try to have a painless day will ya?

Monday Physical

I had a physical on Monday morning which I was NOT looking forward too. The appointment was for 7:30 I had to fast for 12 hours, which was no big deal cause I eat at about 6 on Sunday night.

[Sunday was my younger brothers 33rd birthday. We had dinner at his Father-in-laws house in Oklahoma, he lives at 157th and Nall but from my house it might as well been in Oklahoma. As with previous birthdays in my family we brothers don't get each other anything not even cards. We just show up for the free meal and harass the little kids. Or at least I do.]

Back the doctors appointment. I got to his office at exactly 7:30 a.m. where I checked in with the receptionist. She gave me a form to fill out as per their usual procedure. I always have to fill out the same form every time I see him. The form is basically a list of symptoms that I have non of so the answer to every question is no. I have filled out the form so many times this year that I don't even bother reading it any more. Its quite lame.

I do that give it back to the lady and take a seat and wait about 5 min before my favorite nurse Farrah comes thru the door and calls my name. She escorts me to the scale where she says:

"So you're here for a physical, huh?"

"Nope, just to wanted to see you" I reply sarcastically.

She just gives me this "fuck you" glare. She obviously was not in the mood for flirting.

"First thing I need is a urine sample." She orders

"First thing? That must mean you're going to need a second. What is the second thing".

"D.N.A" She said's with a smile and a wink.

"EXCELLENT" I command!

I go in to the bathroom room and or course I don't have to pee whatsoever but I do have too poop. So I just take a seat and relax everything and low and behold I pee so I grab the cup and filler up. I put the cup in the little window deally thingy and rejoin Farrah in the hallway. We then go into this room that has a chair that looks like a dentist chair.

"Have a seat, and roll up your sleeve" She orders. (she's very bossy)

"I thought you wanted D.N.A?" I question.

"I do, your blood ya horn dog."

"You tease" I exclaimed.

"Shut up you knew what I was talking about."

So I get in the chair, roll up my sleeve. While she gets all of the stuff to take my blood.

She sits on the stool, pulls the tray over takes out this needle, swabs my, left arm, and says:

"O.K. ready? Little prick"

"How do you know? You've never even seen it?" I say surprisingly.

She practically fell out off her stool. She was laughing so hard. She almost stabbed herself with the needle. Then I start thinking of all these other smart-ass answers like:

"I bet you say that to all the boys."

Or.

"No thank you."

Or. My fave.

"Maybe you have a big vagina" But that one does not really apply to this situation.

Once she recovered she went about her business of taking my DNA.

"When was your last physical? Farrah asked.

"1994 when I was discharged from the Marine Corps."

"Marine Corps huh? What did you do"

"Infantry" I boast proudly.

"Ever kill any one?"

"I cannot confirm nor deny that statement" I say jokingly.

She sees right though that answer and ask "Where were you stationed?"

"I spent 3 years at Camp Pendelton, 6 months in Okinawa Japan, and 6 months aboard the USS Peleliu"

This kind of meaningless chit-chat went on for about 5 or 10 more minutes.

We then go to an exam room. I sit down.

"I am going to take your family history". She says

"Where are you going to take it?" I say.

"Umm, right here, right now?"

"O.K. but WHERE are you going to take it I kind need it."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She is obviously grown annoyed with my jokes. We get though the family history. And she leaves and says the Doctor will be in in a few minuets.

"I don't have to get in some lame gown or anything?"

"Not unless you like to where gowns"

"Nope".

She leaves I sit.

The Doctor comes in and we basically start talking about my health and stuff I might be at high risk for because of genetics and lifestyle and all that kind of stuff. Then we get to my weight loss and diet, he seamed really impressed with the weight loss, 55 lbs since September 1st thankyouverymuch! Then he tell me to get on the table and lay down. Where he started to pock and prod my body, just like doctors do. he Checks my testes for abnormalities, and check me for hernia. (FYI ladies everything is fine with my genitals so you don't have anything to worry about.)

Then the best part of the entire morning happens in a single sentence said by the doctor

"Because their is no prostate cancer in your family, and your still pretty young I will NOT have to do a rectal exam".

My reaction:

"That is THE BEST NEWS EVER IN THE HISTORY OF ALL NEWS!!"

My cholesterol is high at 203 but it is not dangerously high so I don't have to go on any medication for it. I just have to keep losing weight. And my blood pressure wan high again so he wants me to buy a BP machine which I really don't want to do. I think the higher readings are from being nervous in a doctors office.

He did recommend that I enroll in a program they have that is not covered by insurance and cost 700-900 bucks. It's a 60 day fitness and weight loss program Where they run a shit load of test and tell you a lot about your body. Like how many calories you burn when resting and how may calories you burn when working out. They also tell you what your body fat percentage is and what it should be for my age and height. They also have a nutritionist meet with you and go over your labs and taylor a very specific diet for your weight loss goals. They guarantee that you will lose 3" off your waist and 25% of your body fat.

It sounds like a great program but I don't have 1000 bucks just sitting around so I will have to wait until I do my taxes and get my refund (if any) to decide if I am going to do it.

I prolly will but not until after St. Patrick's Day. Which is a HUGE party day here in Kansas City, Plus it's on a Saturday so its going to be extra big this year. Plus Aphrodite is coming in town for it so I VERY excited about that.

I have more to tell but you will have to come back tomorrow.

See ya then.

Wacky Wednesday Part 2 or 2 "The Pharmacy Girl"

I was in a really good mood after the gym on Wednesday night. I had just beaten a few of my old records. For distance traveled in 60 min (6.0 miles is the new record thank you very much!) And the furthest I ran in a single time is now up to 2 miles in 16:50. I then walk 0.25 miles and run again but I don’t run for 2 miles.

I stopped off at the pharmacy on the way home from the gym on Wednesday night to pick up my pills. I get back to the pharmacy counter and HOLY SMOKES! She had to the best looking pharmacist in town (like I know ALL of the pharmacist in town, in fact she is the only one) I mean holy crap she was good-looking. So I think “How you dooin’” (you have to say that like Joey from friends or it’s just not funny). She had long straight black hair. Probably 5’-5 or 5’-6” tall, skinny, and REALLY pretty blue eyes. So I get up to the counter.

AND ACTION!!

“Hi Jacqueline” I know that is her name because that is what her name tage sayes.

“Hi, Can I help you”

“I’m Darren (last name) and I need to pick up a prescription to suppress my awesomeness! It was faxed in about 2:00 today.”

“Suppress your awesomeness?” she says inquizivetly (yea it’s a word look it up)

“Yup, or maybe it’s for something else. I can’t remember.” I counter.

We both laugh, nice smile I think.

“Do you have insurance?” She asks.

“Yes I do” I respond (But I think “Fuck yea I have insurance. Do I look like a homeless person?”)

But I just stand there. She is just looking at me with her hand out I look at her hand like a retard.

“Can I see your card” she asks.

“Sure” I say like I wanted her to ask. Not like I was a totally brain dead dip-shit. I hand her my insurance card.

“Are you the only person that is on this card?” She ask while putting all of the information in to the computer.

“You betcha” I say thinking, now that is a pretty sly way of asking me if I was single or not. Good job I thought.

“Your insurance saved you (some dollar amount)” she said.

“That’s great!” I replied.

“Do you go by Jackie or do you prefer Jacqueline” I say changing the subject quickly.

“Umm, I prefer Lynn, actually.”

“Shut up!” “Really?” “That's my mothers name Lynne.” “Do you spell it with an ”e” on the end or just L-Y-N-N”

“No “E”.

“Do we know each other? Because, you sure do look familiar to me?” She asks

“You probably saw me on T.V. I just won the 240 million dollar power ball?"

“Shut up! Your lieing!” “They haven’t even drawn the winning number yet.”

Smart girl I think.

“Your right I was just trying to impress you. So where do you think you know me from?”

“I don’t know but I will figure it out and call you. I already have your digits." She says smiling.

I grab a piece of paper and write down my cell phone number. Rip it in half.

“Put this in your pocket and give this one back to me with your number on it.” I order

She obeys.

Yes, Wednesday was a good day!

Wacky Wednesday Part 1 of 2

Hi, Folks! Thanks for stopping buy I really appreciate you reading my blog and putting up with my grammar and spelling errors. It is quite a choir I know.

On Wednesday of this week I went back to the Doctor: here is the lowdown on that visit.

I walk into the office and notice that there is no one at the desk. I ring the bell, but I ring it in away so that it does not bring any attention to me. So instead of a roaring DING!!!! I keep my hand on the bell as I push the button on the top and get more of a dink, so I continue to stand the like a jerk for another 5 of 10 minuets. You can see were this appointment is going, right?

Farah comes from the back she says “Hi, Darren!” (that’s my real first name if you have not noticed) and acts as if she is excited to see me.

I respond “Hey Farah, it’s really nice to see you again. I am surprised that you remembered me from last week, thanks”

“You were here last week? Oh, I didn’t remember you I just looked at the schedule before you got here. Did you know that your appointment was not until 2 o’clock?”

{Swing and a miss - strike one for our hero, The D!}

“Umm, Yes I am just here 30 minuets early because I wanted to make sure all of my paper work was correct for insurance proposes.” (LIE!!! I thought the appointment was at 1:45 but if I was a smart man instead of a complete buffoon that I actually am then I would of said something like. “Of course, I am aware I am early. I just wanted to spend some time with the prettiest nurse in town. (wink wink). Or I would have said some other lame pick up line.

{The D watches this pitch go by STRIKE TWO for our hero, The D!}

Farrah finishes checking me in and I have a seat in the waiting area. While waiting I watch the 49ers beat the Broncos in the Superbowl in the 1980’s on one of the 3 flat screens in the waiting area. I think to my self (self you should get one of those flat screen TV’s) But then I remind my self that I would have to sell my 51” rear projection T.V. first in order to get a flat screen.

My mind wanders when I am bored.

A blond woman comes from behind a door and calls my name. I think to my self “YES, I finally won something awesome!” sadly I did not, it’s just another nurse to escort me back to the exam rooms. She was blond and only half way cute, she did not even tell me her name to me so I could not tell you her name so we will call her Blondie (like the singer).

We stop off at the scale.

She says “Hop, right on up on this scale, please”

“No, I don’t want too I think your scale is busted.” I complain.

“Why do you say that?” She questions.

“Because on Jan 5th I weighted in at 195 lbs on the scale at my gym and then last week (01-13-07) I was 208 on this lousy clunker”. I spout back

“Our scale is correct yours is wrong.” She says with a little attitude.

“Bologna!” I exclaimed “It’s the kind that has a counter weight that you have to adjust your self. Plus I make sure that it is correct before I get on it…”

I continue to complain about the scales. But I can tell by the look on her face that 1) she stopped listening and 2) she really does not care to hear me complain about the intricacies of the 2 different scales (theirs is a digital scale).

(What I did not tell her is that when I weight in at the gym I am only wearing underwear. When I weight in at the Doctors office I am fully dressed in slacks, shoes, socks, belt, undershirt, dress shirt, tie, wallet, cell phone, and keys. So of course I am going to be heavier than at the gym).

I begrudgingly get on the scale. Scale says 199 lbs. (Bullshit I say below my breath I was 197 lbs the night before). Fuck, I hate scales.

We then go to the exam room and she ask me a few questions about how I was feeling but there were no leading questions this time, no shenanigans to speak of, she was very professional (which is to say boring) so I was kind of let down. I was sort of looking forward to some shenanigans (maybe a little slap and tickle if you know what I mean). She tells me the Doctor is going to come in and talk to me about my high blood pressure (last week it was 145/95 which is really freaking high, like so high that she was surprised that my head did not pop off like a Pez dispenser.) and that she was going to come back in and take out the stitches.

She takes my BP (that is blood pressure for those of you not in the medical community) 130/80 which is normal for my age (36), height (5’-9”) and weight, (195, I don’t care what their scale says I am under 200 lbs so they can just SUCK IT!)

She leaves I start reading this book about mens health that was sitting on the table and look up my BMI (body mass index) on a chart. The good news is that I am no longer morbidly obese, I and just on the border line between obese and overweight. I think that is good news. But then I realize I still have along way to go before my weight is considered “normal” Like 50 more pounds more to go. WTF?

Doctor comes in and looks at the chart he had asked me to keep for the past week of my BP all of the readings were in the 140’s/ 90’s which again is like Old Faithful high he even said that he was surprised my heart had not literally jumped out of my chest and smacked me in the face.

I tell him that all of those were taken from a machine in a Walgreen’s at 39th and Broadway on my way home from the gym.

He then gets up an punches me in the face, and states yelling at me “YOU ASSHOLE!!! YOU CAN’T TAKE YOUR BP JUST AFTER WORKING OUT! DIDN’T ANY ONE TELL YOU THAT? YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WHILE YOU ARE JUST SITTING AROUND RELAXING!!”

O.k. so he did not punch me in the face or anything like that, but he did tell me that should have taken my BP while resting. My reading was high because I had just finished working out and that it will stay up for a few hours after working out. Now I have to keep track my BP for another week. I just have to do it in the morning.

Now here is my problem, he suggested that I spend 50-60 bucks on my own BP machine?!?!? Huh?? What the deuce? Screw that!! I am not going to BUY my own BP machine that’s ludicrous! So, I either need to find a cheap used machine or get a nurse to take the reading everyday. Let me know if you are interested, or have any ideas on how I can get my BP done everyday until Feb 1st.

Now about the cyst it still a little hard and swollen (I am talking about the cyst not my Hoagie and Meatballs, Geez you perv’s) so he put me on some antibiotics to fight off any infection that may have started or will start in the next 10 days.

That’s it for now. Up next the Pharmacy Girl!

You Will Never Believe What Happened To Me On Monday!

On Saturday January 13 while I was taking shower after working out. I found a lump just under my right pectoral (chest) muscle. I was quite surprised and exclaimed “Oh shit, that ain’t supposed to be there” Or maybe it was “Dam, I ain’t payin’ for dat!” I really don’t recall. It was hard and was very sensitive to the touch, to the point of painful when I touched it. So, of course, I kept playing with the lump (instead of myself). It was about half the size of a golf ball, (I am talking about the lump people, geez) But you would not be able to see it because I have the nicest set of man boobies (or bitch tits, which ever you prefer) this side of the Mississippi.

After I ran out of cold water I got out of the shower and went on with my day. I spent most of Sunday perusing thought every page on the internet looking for some information on “lumps in the chest, growths in the chest, and similar stuff. But all I found were big words that I could not pronounce, and inappropriate pictures of little girls, which made me, feel a little dirty so I took another shower.

On Monday morning the lump was even bigger now it was roughly ¾ of the size of a golf ball. And it was even tendered (more tender?) to the touch. It was so tender that I could not wear a seat belt on the way to work.

At work I spent the morning looking for a doctor. I found one that was in the neighborhood of the office and called him when I got home for lunch. I was surprised to find out that he could get me in at 2:45 the same day. [I have not been to the doctor since my exit physical for my honorable discharge from The Marine Corps in 1994.]

When I arrived at the doctor’s office I was quite surprised to find out that they had a full work out facility IN the doctor’s office. (very L.A. I thought) I filled out all of the new patient paper work and waited for the nurse to take me to an exam room.

My nurse’s name was Farrah (as in Fawcett from Charlie’s Angels the T.V. show) but she did not look anything like the actress. Farrah (the nurse) was short, good looking, brunette with glasses and a little attitude (me likey, I said to myself) As she was going down a list of questions, which I had just answered on a sheet of paper 10 minuets earlier, she asked “Have you ever had a sexually transmitted disease?” I replied “No” she whipped back “Want one?”…

[Gulp… What kind of doctor office is this? Is this a front for prostitution? Is this how they screen there prospective “Johns”.]

Sadly she was just making a joke, which left me totally speechless, I was totally not expecting that one which is what made it so funny.

She took my temperature (orally) and my blood pressure which was decent, she said it was little high but not too bad. After some small talk she left and the doctor came in and check out my little friend, which had taken up residence right under my right man boobie.

He did some pinching, sticking, massaging, and some moving around, after about 5 minuets of him playing with it he said that it was a subcutaneous cyst. What the fuck is that and how do we get rid of it, is what I thought. He said that it will most likely NOT go a way on its own and that he could cut it out today if I wanted. I thought for a second (I had only come in here for a quick exam, not a full blown surgery.) So, of course, as with all of the best decisions I have made in my life I made it on a total whim. I said “Sure why the fuck not” I most likely not have to go back to work.

So he took me in to another room where I took off my shirt, laid down on a table and waited for Farrah to come back in and prep me for my minor surgery. She was nice I liked Farrah she was cute. Anyway, I asked her to take pictures of the whole ordeal, like before, during, and after. So I could show all of my friends what I did on Monday. She goes and asks the doctor he says no but I persuaded him that it was a good idea. He reluctantly agreed.

The Doctor started by numbing that area around the cyst with a shot of some type or shot (sadly it was NOt Jeager) I think it was Novocain, but I think that’s only used at the dentist so I really don’t know)). He then cuts me open and starts to squeeze all of the puss that was surrounding the cyst. He says that the cyst was infected and that is the reason that it was so tender and was growing so fast.

So the 3 of us Farrah, the Doc and myself had a good time while the doctor was working me over but after about 2-3 minuets the Novocain (or whatever) started to where off and I was starting to get really uncomfortable with him squeezing the puss out of me. I said “Doc, you know this is fun and all but it is starting to get a little annoying if you know what I mean. (I didn’t what to seam like a puss in front of Farrah) but he was just about killing me! I was thinking Holy fuck! Who is this dude, Dr. Frankenstein! FUCK! My eyes are starting to water I am literally just seconds from grabbing this dude and putting the Stone Cold Stunner on him when he finally says “Done”.

He stitched me up told me to wear a band-aid and some Neosporin and to come back on the 24th to have the 3 stiches taken out. Farrah came back in and cleaned me all up, and took the final picture.

Overall the experience was not too bad. But during, the surgery, when the Novocain (or what ever) started to where off I thought I was going to die. But looking back (hindsight is 20/20) it was not really that bad. It could have been a lot worse, which I was totally preparing myself for, when he said it was just a cyst I was really relived almost to the point of ejaculating but not quite.

So here are the pics. They are in order starting with the before. I warn you they are pretty graphic, so look at your own risk.


Before:
Durring:

After:

P.S This weekend is our yearly 18 hour drunk fest so watch out!!

More Developments

I was off work Friday because they are moving my division from our World Headquarters to a new building a few blocks west and north. (because we are expanding) But I have to go in tomorrow and set up my office. In the old office we only had a desk now we will all have cubicles with 6 foot walls. So now I can slack off all day on the internet and send lame emails to my friends all day long and no one will know. I know they will be excited about that!!!

In other news to tell you about. (Try not to cry while reading this because I'm about too.)

1. The Chiefs lost because they are losers. That is all I can say about that or else it would be nothing but f-bombs and Mo-Fo's from here on out.

2. (And more importantly) My satellite system is totally shot. It was working just fine before the Chiefs game. I went out to Scooters to watch it on his new plasma. But when I got home nothing worked. I was not getting any signal from the satellite what-so-ever. And its a clear night.

So I have too wait until next Saturday for some dumb ass tech to replace all of the wires that go from the satellite to both of the receivers. In the mean time I would have to watch that crappy television in my guest room for a week. Which gets a signal from an antenna.

(And don't tell me to switch to cable like everyone else has been telling me. Cable sucks, besides satellite is a better deal when you look at the cost per channel)

Or I can hit Radio Shack tomorrow, get what I need and fix it myself. But would have to get in the crawl space under the house which has a dirt floor and is only about 3 or 4 feet tall. And I don't know what kind of creepy-crawly cridders are under their. I don't even what to think about what kind of varmint's that might be hibernating under there! It give me the he-be-jebees just thinking about having to get under there. I would rather get kicked in my man berries than get under there!!

Plus, I will have to get someone to stand in the drive way to make sure I don't get electrocuted or eaten by some cridder that will be very pissed off if I wake them up. And what if the house falls on me? Some one will have to call me moms.

I have a nack for this kind of stuff anyway, so I should have it done by like 1 or so, but if you don't hear from me before the KU game startes, call the authorities and have them come by the house I might be dead under it. Which would totally suck!! Seriously!!!

Furthermore I have to have it done BEFORE 3:30 because that is when the KU game is on, which is totally do-able.

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In other news:

I found this web site they sell unauthorized KU shirts most of them are pretty funny. Just thought you might like them.

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The one good news that I can report is that on Friday I was 195 lbs. Which officially puts me at 40 pounds lost (I started at 235 lbs on September 1st) and 55 lbs since I moved back from The Lou. But I really don't count that as a starting point. Plus I can start to finally see some weight lose in my fat ugly face.

Work, Gym, Girl

If my life consisted of something other than work, the diet, and the gym. I would post a lot more.

So lets talk about work. I am completely swamped I have a project review coming up next week and if I am not finished my Bosshole will go ape shit. So I have to start putting in 10 -12 hour days plus Saturdays until it's done.

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I am not going to talk about the diet today I have talked about it enough, I am literally blue in the face.

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The gym needs more elliptical machines. They only have 4 and only 2 are the ones that have the handles that move so I can get a upper body work out along with my lower body. So when I get there at 6:30 (after working 12 hours) there are usually about 8 people there and 2 of them are on the machines I want to use. You can burn more calories on the elliptical than you can on a treadmill. At least that has been my experiences with it.

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Weekend, Gym, Diet

Hi, thank you all for coming, I really appreciate it. So what have I been doing for the past few days?

On Saturday I cut the grass, on my way out to cut me mums lawn Lonnie Anderson* called and asked if I wanted to stop by and check out their new house (she is married to Burt Reynolds*) I stopped by and I tell you their house just really blew me away! It was completely the opposite than I was expecting. It was just a little bigger than mine, but mine is MUCH nicer. Then Burt went into this 1.5 hour long presentation on all of the upgrades that he is going to do which the house badly needs, so I think it will all work out in the end. They are really good people and Hope the home remodeling goes well for them. He is a contractor so it should.

On Sunday I joined a gym. The official weight in took place after the workout on Sunday afternoon about 5:00. The official weight –in was recorded as… (Drum roll please)… 220.5 pounds! (YEA!! FOR THE D!!!!) I was really freaking out about this. I was just praying it would be something at least close to 220. Here is why, I was using a floor scale, you know the kind that you buy at target, model # p.o.s. and I knew that scale was wrong. I used that scale to give me and idea of what my weight was back on August 16th when I decided to take charge of my life and stop feeling sorry for my fat lazy ass. On that scale I was 235 (back in august) but if you remember I hurt my leg and was not able to work out for a few weeks after that. So at that time I just started to eat right (or at least healthier) for a few weeks while my leg healed. This brings us to why I had the official weight-in and diet kick off on Sunday October 1st. The goal is to be at less than 200 pounds before December 1st which is totally do-able. So in terms of numbers we are talking about 20-25 total pounds.

The work out schedule is as follows I work out on Monday, Tuesday, take Wednesdays off, (for Fantasy Football, and LOST) back to the gym on Thursday, and Friday, then once on either, Saturday, or Sunday. The work out consists of cardio for 1 hour, lately it has been the treadmill, (but I hope to get to the eliptical soon)at a speed of 3.5 M.P.H. (at least I think its M.P.H.) this is a fast walking pace, with intermitted time of running at 7 m.p.h. I also do some abdominal work everyday. I will need to develop a schedule of working out with weights, either dumbbells or machines. But right now its cardio, and abs, every day that I work out.

As far as the diet goes, I have added soup (for lunch) to the mix and dropped the breads and the pastas. I am eating a shit load of chicken boobies (!) for dinner along with a vegetable like corn or green beans, and some kind of fruit like cantaloupe (I fucking LOVE cantaloupe!!! Is there not a more awesome fruit? I think NOT).

I think it goes without saying I will be canceling my birthday (November 14th) and also thanksgiving because they both fall into the “crunch time” of the diet.

It’s quite an ambitious plan but I think it is defiantly do-able if I stick to it. If anyone has some chicken recipes feel free to send them my way. I usually just bake them in the oven with very little or no seasoning.

Wish me luck!

(* no those are not their real names)

Diet, Quitting Smoking

In this post last week I told you that I would give you more information on my diet and the quit smoking thingy.

The Diet: Preamble
When I moved back from St. Louis in December of 2003 I was 250 pounds. I am 5’-8” tall which put me in to the category of morbidly obese. Now I don’t know about you but when I hear the term “morbidly obese” or just obese for that matter I think of some one that is really disgustingly fat like Orca the whale fat. I had never seen myself as fat. When I looked in the mirror I would see a good looking dude with a lot of potential. I never went to the doctor, I did not need him to tell me what I already knew.I was also smoking pack a day.

I just made a conscious decision to eat better and start working out. So I stopped eating McDonalds and started eating salads and a shit load of baked or grilled chicken.

The eating started right away in January of 2004 the working out started in the following April once the weather was nicer. I stared with a nice walk down to Mill Creek Park at 47th and J.C. Nichols Parkway on the east side of the plaza. The park its self is 1.5 miles from my house. I would then do the lap around the park which is 1 mile. With a round trip total of 4 miles (1.5+1.5=3+1=4). I started with a total time of 1:15 that is 1 hour and 15 minuets of total walking. I eventually got that time down to 50 minuets with a combination of running and walking. I never could run the entire distance.

This continued over the summer of 2004 and into the winter where I joined a gym. I was still walking and or running 3-4 miles every day 5-6 days a week. Then in January of 2005 I was fired from my job, It was so shock, I lost all motivation whatsoever. I had another job within a week I had still lost total confidence in myself and in my abilities at my chose profession; I was constantly questioning myself and always asking for help and people to check my work of accuracy. I think I fell into a bit of depression. So I quit going to the gym. But I kept the new eating habits that I had trained myself to acquire. In May of 2005 I was fired again (yes, twice within 6 months) and now I know I fell in to a depression that I am still battling to get out of to this day. I was out of work for about 6 weeks and spent all of my savings. I went to the gym and worked out one last time. I had not been on the scale for quite some time so I decided to check my weight… 210. I though well, big fucking deal all that fucking work for a lousy 40 fuckin’ pounds that is just great I wouldn’t die from heart attack to night, yea. But I knew I would have to cancel my membership to the gym because I would not be able to afford it any longer.

I have not worked out since then, that was in May of 2005.

I got a new job in June of 2005 which I still have today (August 2006).

So the other day I was walking thought the kitchen nekked as a jay bird and I saw the scale sitting in the corner of the laundry room. He said hello and I just gave him the finger, symbolizing my current hatred for him and his kind. I did my business in the bath room, came out, stopped in the hallway and walked over to the scale and said

”Listen you ass-clown, lets get one thing straight I don’t like you and you don’t like me, but I am going to stand on you and if you don’t give me a favorable read out I will beat you so bad that your own mother will not recognize you, then I will take you apart and drive around the state throwing parts of you out of the window while laughing like a madman. Do we have an understanding?” No response from the scale, typical fucking scale. I put the scale down and stepped on him. A few seconds pass… the scale begins to speak, “230 pounds” I stand motionless not knowing how to take this information. Happy, because I only put on 20 pounds in a year, pissed off because I put on 20 pounds in a year. Still deciding how to feel. At 230 pounds I am still obese by government standards. Fuck. Still Obese.

The Nuts and Bolts of the Diet:
As I stated in this post figured out that I am burning more calories than I consume on a daily basis. That is right folks; I am losing weight and did not even know it. Here is the lowdown. I eat the same stuff every day (its boring but I like it).

Breakfast – burrito QuickTrip (500 Calories)
Lunch - Hot pockets (330 calories each (660 total)
Dinner - chicken sammich from Wendy’s Fries and a diet coke (940 Calories) or a chicken BLT salad (680 calories)
Total calories – 500+660+940 (or 680)=1840 or 2100 Calories

I know I don’t have any drinks listed above and that is because I am drinking only water during the day, I drink about 2 liters, I fill a ½ liter up 4 times a day. Plus 16 ounces of coffee from QT that last me all day. I chug the last ¼ just before I leave for the day.

I then went to this web site that told me, I burn 2900 calories (in an 8 hour period). That leads to a deficit of 800 calories (or there about) a day. Now, (stick with me) there are 3500 calories in 1 pound of fat (meaning you have to burn 3500 calories in one day to lose 1 pound a day). At my current course it would take me 4 days to lose one pound which is not good enough, nor fast enough.

Diet Goals:
The ultimate goal of the diet is to lose a total of about 50-60 lbs or more. That would put me at about 170-180 lbs which is what I weighed when I go out of the Marine Corps in 1994. But on the short term I plan to lose 30 lbs in 16 weeks, that 16 weeks iswill end on December 1st. But because of this fucking cut on my leg I can barley walk. Every time I try to bend the leg it reopens the scab and it starts oozing puss out of the wound. So now I have to wait until the fucking thing is healed until I can start working out.

24 hour fitness on Ward Parkway would certainly be the place to meet girls but I am not there to meet girls. I have been there and it is a mad house at 5 p.m. Plus, I don’t want all of the hot girls eye fucking me while I work out I am there to work out NOT pick up chicks.

I will be rejoining the same gym that I belonged to in May of 2005 at the end of September because I like this gym, its small and I can get a lot done in a short amount of time I never have to wait on a price of equipment or any of the machines. It will cost me more that the 24 hour fitness on Ward parkway because that will only cost me $35.00 a month plus they will wave any joining fees because my employer has a deal with them of some sort. My gym will cost me $40.00 a month but the owner is a friend of a friend and she will waive the contract and upfront fees.

So you are now wondering 2 things 1)why are you telling me all of this, and 2) now much longer is this fucking post, I have to take a shit!

Quitting Smoking
I am (have gone) going cold turkey. Why? Do you ask, because I am a Marine and I am one bad mutha-fucka! After Tuesday’s developments I did some more figuring. I had my last cigarette at 3:00 p.m. (queue taps) I had found out that if I were to quite smoking I would save enough money per month that I could join a gym and then really lose weight.

Check this out, a single pack of Marlboro Lights cost $3.54 (at quicktrip on Westport Road) I was smoking a pack every other day. So I bought my last pack on the way home from Monday’s game. That pack lasted me until Wednesday at 3:00. Here comes the money shot – at $3.54 every other day equals out to about 15 packs a month (roughly, more if I went out drinking) which comes out to $53.00 I pay for smokes on a monthly basis. A Gym membership at 24 hour fitness is $35 a month (with my employee discount via our HR department), another club I know of is $40 a month.

Today is August 27th I have been smoke free for 11 days. Over all I think it has gone pretty well, the first days were the toughest though with the nicotine still being in my system and my body wanting more as the levels dropped. But now it is mostly the psychological part of the game, the fidgeting, the frustration, and the “ghost” hunger pangs. You can go here and learn all about quitting cold turkey and the symptoms of quitting smoking.

I have had all of these symptoms except the nasal drip, and the constipation, but I have had an increase of farts.
I read about the effects and it helped me a LOT knowing what I would go though and then be able to recognize the symptoms, for example: After I quite I noticed that now I am very susceptible to rode rage. I am constantly yelling a people and getting VERY angry at drivers for stuff the usually does not bother me, then I think “Why and I so angry about that dudes driving, I can’t control his dumb-ass driving. I shouldn’t be this pissed off” then I take a deep breath and I am all good. Because I know that things like that don’t usually bother me. I am an even tempered dude.

So now you are asking your self “Self, ask The D why he is doing all of this now?”

That my friends is for another post.

P.S. if any of my math is wrong on this post don't tell me because the math is not really important kay, kay.