Oh man was it a great spring to early summer break. Jaron celebrated his 40th birthday in classy Mexican resort style and then sustained a major thumb injury playing Tim "The Toolman" Taylor with a power something-something tool. I on the other hand slacked off from weights, swimming, blogging, and proper portion control. The proven formula for a rising scale. 231 lbs. as of last weigh in. That number is inexcusably high for a recovering fat guy. To make matters worse, it is four pounds shy of the mandated death sentence to this digital rag. Supposedly Jaron put a clause in the No Fat Jokes Please contract that gave him the right to nuke the blog if I again balloon to a plump 235. I'll trust his memory -- Heaven knows I have the retention capacity of the All-American Alzheimer spelling bee team.
In all honesty I kinda like Fat Jarvis. He is jollier between the ranges of 210-225. Unfortunately, Jaron, the prince of peer pressure, drops beat downs like Iron Mike Tyson (pre-face tattoo.) To add to the ego bruising the ole lady starts to give me the universal "this thing is gaining gravitational strength" belly rubs. The accompanying facial expression is kind of a sarcastic duck face with a "just saying" eye roll. That's when Fat Jarvis flees to the individually wrapped arms of another woman. Oh sweet Little Debbie!
Debbie has never judged me! She knows me. She loves me for who I am. Unlike my dear wife, who cares for my health and refuses to be seen with a fatty, Debbie's discs of oatmeal and cream are unrelenting. She usually takes me over the 230 mark; forcing Fun Jarvis to dust off his manternity pants. Fat Jarvis's wardrobe stash is the last line of defense before buying larger sizes. I can handle the wife's sneers. I can even handle the harassing text messages from Jaron. But I cannot stomach buying more clothes. I'm a middle-class, middle-aged American male! We don't buy more clothes than we need to have in a three week wash cycle. Our founding fathers did not fight the tyranny of the king to have it all lost to the sirens song of a devil temptress... I SHALL TREAD ON THEE DEBBIE!!!
Post one, "Destination 195", August 1st, 2012, in my comment I referenced tearing down the blog after the completion of said goal. I also referenced that I would not take part in blog 3.0 in 2015. Well guess what folks, it's 2015, and Ole JT is perilously close to pre-blog dimensions. I swear I will nuke this bastard if things don't start heading in a good direction! Lil Debbie is a coniving bitch. She's taken down better men. We had a thing, she and I, years ago. Til I saw her for the succubus she was. I owe it to Jarvis's way too understanding wife to get Ole Boy back on track. So be it. No mercy for the weak. I have come to love, if not depend on the blog, and to see it torn down when I could save it...well that's just not happening on my watch! JT gonna have a "come to Jesus" on my watch. That's what's bout to happen. For the record I have gained, and not in a good way, post 4-0 Mexico trip, so I too must recommit. Hard times ahead for the former House of Pain. Too wierd to live, too rare to die. Bring the pain...
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