I was very, very hopeful about this being the “I finally lost 60 net lbs” post. Turns out my body is, not surprisingly, an asshole. Yesterday was looking pretty good, too. I peeked in on the scale and was pretty content to see 259. Seeing that number on a Thursday is nothing but good news. Today, though, I hopped on that little fucker and almost punched a wall. 262.

How? Why would you do this to me, scale? I was even starting to feel bad about your nearly dead batteries, but now I can’t wait for your stupid metal face to die in what I’m assuming is the least honorable robot death. Starvation.

I should probably be more concerned that my body is being a dick than I am with not feeding my scale, but honestly it rates barely above “annoyance” in my brain. I had a really strong boxing workout Wednesday, and my all-too-serious adult dodgeball games felt vigorous enough to make me sore this morning. As long as I still look way too good in business casual wear, these are storms I can definitely weather. 

So, I have two very large plastic garbage bags full of Fat(ter) people clothes. I don’t really know what to do with them. I don’t really want to donate them to Goodwill, because Goodwill. There was a Queen Anne help center that could probably use them, but I’m also oddly nervous about handing over a bunch of t-shirts that can only be measured in yards to a tiny grandmother. Any of you civic-minded people know of a cool place that would be able to find use for fat guy clothes/makeshit tents for the homeless? Hit me up. Alternatively, do you want to own a garment of a incredibly minor internet personality? Also, hit me up.