A Boy Named Sue

During my run to go sub-200, life has not slowed down a notch. Experience has taught me, lunches and dinners on the go are the engine to my demise. No biggie, there are tons of places in Las Vegas that have gone healthy (I guess that’s like going green but in a human-sphere way). Subway, Nevada Chicken Café, and hundreds if not five burrito shops with the lean and mean burrito bowl, have all assisted in my shrink.

All was good until about a month ago when I left my debit card in the local FDIC welfare institution. “No worries,” shrugs the audience in myopic boredom. Well that’s a roger ten-four on the "don’t worry be happy." That’s until OMG/WTF/LMAO pranksters at big Bank of America decided to send me the exact debit card my wife chose for herself last year.


“Ha, ha, ha, ha!!! Very funny… were you serious Mr. Marlow when you got this?” Asked the strangely androgynous sandwich shop clerk. “I get you.” As if I’m part of some emo Japan anime, fight club. What the freak is this world coming to when a man of my emotional fortitude is uncomfortable to drop a lame pink debit card because it will enlist an exhausted inquiry into one man's rationale. With the card held at arms length, just below eye level, it has become my pride to give them a little hung head “don’t bother trying to comprehend” sigh and talk to the hand combo.

So now I just hand my card backside up and play like the white noise over my cell phone is an important international toy conglomerate asking about the new Hello Kitty line. My eyes read “Can’t humor you now or fully acknowledge the next 20 seconds of your amusement, for what has become my life’s equivalent to the song, A Boy Named Sue.”

So give me my pink card back and don’t put tomatoes on my sandwich, you're the fruit cake!

The Weight Can't Wait

For those following the Easy & JT “Great Weight Rebated 2009”… final results are in.

Easy-E minus 10 pounds
JT Marlow minus 21 pounds

Easy-E will be wearing a maternity top for a wonderful night on the town next March when his lady and he get back into town. I think we’ll have to sit outside on the Strip, say Mon Ami Gabi at the Paris Las Vegas. E, I’ll let you pick!