Sippin' on Coke and Rum, I'm like so what I'm drunk. It's the freakin' weekend baby, gonna have me some fun [and so much fooood, I'm so fuckin' dumb.]
My body is starting to achieve so many accolades and love, but every weekend I go and piss on a bunch of really hot 16-year olds. And why not, I deserve it, I've worked so hard and achieved so much, why not tinkle a lil' on some tasty tots. This is bad reasoning. I know it, R. Kelly knows it. Kobe might not know it, but my body has not achieved Kobe-level awesomeness. My body simply will not progress and get as huge as Hasselhoff in Germany if I treat it like this on weekends. I eat and drink like Jon Belushi and Chris Farley rolled into one. I simply don't know how to fix this.
It's like trying to quit smoking while drinking; when I drink, copious amounts of cheesy, greasy food becomes necessary. It's a scientific fact that eating before bed is not a good idea - it will not get burned off and will be stored as fat. However, as the great Aziz Ansari elucidated, a recent in-depth scientific study shows that eating a burrito at 3 am is delicious. This is an incontrovertible fact - so, the science is fuzzy at best.
Either way, I know I need to not eat all this whorey, greasy food on the weekends. But, I also need to drink - it makes me better-looking and funnier. Everyone would agree. This is a conundrum. I do not have any answers. If you do, please leave them in the comments section.
That being said, I ripped myself from the greasy-fogginess of my hangover, pulled my furniture aside, and flipped on P90X. Millard would not be my wingman for this one - he had some family issues to tend too. He probably doesn't want me saying anything about this, but apparently since around the time he hit puberty, his urethra has been expanding, slowly growing outwards. As it grew, it caused the top of his penis to slowly roll down, further and further, creating a flap that the doctor referred to as a "labia". Apparently it has gotten so bad, that he needs to pee sitting down now. I hope he and his family can get through this tough and trying time.
My condolences go out to Millard's girlfriend also. But, really, I don't think it's that big of a deal. Girls like Millard because he's gentle, cute, and non-threatening. Lets face it, they're already half-lesbians anyways. At that point, what's another half? Get off the fence and be who you are. So, Stacey, congratulations on being a lesbian.
Highlights: Well, today's highlight when Millard gets home is probably going to be a punch in the face. And by a 'punch in the face', I mean a sulky face. But, the workout's highlight was me wailing my head of a 20 pounder as I came down from a sit-up (v-up roll-back to be specific).
State of Mind: OK, so I am doing this. It has become routine. That is good. But, my mind does not reflect this - it is a tangle of contradictory thoughts and insecure doubts about actual results. Either way, I am doing it, and I should take solace in that fact.
Rating: S & C & T (P60X) + AbRprX (P85X) = P72.5
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