PAX is this weekend, so this seems like a perfect time to take a quick inventory of me and figure out how well I stuck to my gameplan for the nerd rapture. Physically, things are better than expected. I’m not going to type out my weight here, because you know what my goddamn weight it -- also my keyboards “2,” “6,” and “5” keys are starting to look a little worn. I’m completely alright with this. I spent half my weekend staring at myself in a mirror listening to “Goodbye Horses,” and after about the 7th repeat, I realized I look pretty fucking good these days. I mean, I wouldn’t go so far as to say things are tightening up, but things are clearly less... wobbly. My weight is generally staying the same, but physically I can point out bits of me that are smaller. There is clearly some weird and awesome shit going on back there. Yes, this will do nicely.

Well shit, that’s about as well as could be expected. The other goal for PAX was to walk into the weekend feeling good about myself. On that front, I’m doing pretty goddamn well. I feel fucking great. I start work again next Tuesday which means I’m finally able to enjoy being unemployed, my diet is pretty great and as I mentioned previously, I have two pairs of underwear in my drawer that are marked plain old “L.” And I’ve been pretty excited about it for an inappropriate amount of time. I almost sent pictures to every girl I’ve ever dated. Almost. Slightly concerning thought for the day: Healthy Riley might be a sex offender.

The other half of my weekend? I spent it being so goddamn nerdy I might have revirginized myself. Flesh Wizard and I went to Tacoma on Saturday and had a blast playing some [REDACTED], which I probably shouldn’t have even admitted to you, but whatever. I guess I don’t want to touch boob ever again anyways.