Die, You Fat Fuck!

...redux...

I wrote down my diet plan last January 3rd:

I could write my whole weight loss book on one line, on a business card. It would go like this:

"QUIT EATING, YOU FAT FUCKER!!"

Why, yes it is that easy, thank you. If you can't do it, you don't want to. The End. Shut up. It is not glands. You don't have an imbalance. You are paying doctors to tell you that, and they tell you that so you'll keep coming back. No, you are a weak, spineless fat-body, and you should just be honest and cry in shame as you fist those handfuls of grease and sugar into your fat, weak blubbery pie-hole.

Is any of this helping? Good...read on.

Calculate the amount of calories you need to survive and function with, and only consume them between the hours of 9am and 3pm. Eat one meal a day of real food, between 11am and 2pm ...ANYTHING YOU WANT!!... as long as you don't go over the daily calorie amount. Take one day off on your second weekend of this, you pick the day (Friday night counts) and eat as much of whatever you want on that day, then, back in the saddle. You are allowed two protein shakes of your choice (I chose Slim-Fast because I like the strawberry and it was cheap) a day in addition to your one meal. NO JUNK FOOD!! McDonalds should forget your fat face. Pizza is okay, for your one meal. Heck, a solid cube of butter is okay. You will starve. You will feel pain.

Never mind, pain is just fat leaving the body.

Yes, of course you may drink. Drinks count towards the days calories. If you go over, die you fat fuck (which shall be the title of my sequel).

I recently went from 260 to 220 doing this. I hit 220 today, and I feel just fine. Hornier than ever.
I can see the black pencil lead in my stomach (where my mother stabbed me when I was five) for the first time in several years.

I never nagged the wife to lose, but seeing me doing it got her on it, and now she gets to buy new clothes. I am at the weight I joined the military at age 27 with. Back in my 38's from the 44's. Getting jeans pegged.

Once the loss starts rolling along, it just falls away. Feeding the kids is a hurdle, cuz Mac & Cheese is God's perfect food, and it smells so good at six O clock at night and just step away from the pan, you fat fucker.
Make enough for them, only, unless you want some for your meal tomorrow. People frown on you not feeding your kids, and after a while they stop moving and begin to smell bad. Feed them per usual, and drink plenty of water (or, like me, red wine) while you are doing it. You can have one piece of toast with butter if you get whirly, or blend a raw egg (or one scoop of shake powder) into your wine.

In a few weeks, you will not want to eat. Your mom can make fresh bread, and you will stop, full after one piece. There will be less bullshit leftovers in the fridge, and then eventually, almost none.
When I worked, I took a plate of whatever they had had the night before to work and nuked it for lunch.

I let this fat shit sneak up on me, we both did. We're beautiful people, and we carried it well. And then, one day, you notice you are one big fat fuck, and you didn't get that way from other people shoving food up your ass.

Never, again. Never...

The only fib I told was that I started at 260. I was closer to 270. Today I weigh 213. Yesterday I ate an egg salad foldover, three chicken tacos, and about a gallon of beer and wine.

Today, I've had three beers so far, I'm mowing the yards and sweating them off like a pig, and I may or may not have a sandwich later.

I may have gone too far.

When I really want to eat, like at a restaurant or some other special occasion, I can only eat to a certain point, and then I literally cannot eat any more. The idea of another bite sickens me, and I likes my food.

I said I ate three tacos last night...I hit the last third of the third one, and that was it. The old me would have stuffed it in anyway, and might have had a fourth, because they were damn good, but I threw the rest away.

Like I said, if you can't do it, you don't want to do it.

Now, my wife and I know a heck of a lot about anatomy and food and I didn't do any of this just on a whim. If you don't know the caloric values of foods by heart (like my wife does, she lived on Pritikin for years) you may want to get some reference materials and speak to a health professional.

I didn't do this overnight, I didn't crash, I didn't want stretch marks or flaps of deflated skin. I set things up so that my body would literally digest itself, and it did.

You wanna stay fat, fine. Just don't bitch about it.

I am walking proof that you can reverse a lifetime habitual lifestyle at the age of 50 and not get sick or die or backslide. Nobody ever told me that I couldn't/shouldn't eat like a fifteen year old when I'm 50. Yes, it took me a while to figure that out, but now I am sharing hard learned knowledge with you. Stop The Insanity! (sorry...flashback)

I think I actually started this whole process last July, so it has taken me a whole year to get to the point where I am gonna say 'Stop' and hold right here. I am happy with how I look, I have entirely new habits (or eating rituals, if you will), and I'm just gonna coast.

You know what my biggest hurdle was?

Getting the wife to quit trying to feed me all the time, and not get hurt feelings because she made a lovely dinner and I wasn't participating. Knowing I would eat my dinner for lunch the next day mollified her some, but she doesn't offer me food anymore, and that's a good thing.

I have mostly quit drinking the shakes. I sometimes have a huge bowl of cereal in the morning around nine or so (Usually Rice Chex, my favorite). A few times a week, I may have a sandwich for lunch, with maybe some chips.

I never eat after seven, and eat as much as I want during the evening meal, now, which, like I said, is not too damn much.

Did all this hurt? You bet! I spent about two to three weeks in genuine agony last winter, when I really buckled down. But the agony was sporadic, and once my stomach realized I was just going to tell it to fuck off when it whined, it just settled down to a grumble. I haven't eaten a bite since 6pm yesterday, and the sensation inside my gut is like when you stand in a big, empty warehouse, and it is a little cold, but you can handle it. A certain hollowness and discomfort, but nothing to worry about, and you only feel it when you think about it.

I have gone two days without food more than once recently because I forgot to eat, and the wife thought I was taking care of myself. Of course, there was the alcohol intake, so it's not like I was calorie free...I just didn't think about food.

Pretty cool, huh?

So, there you go. Fuck Jarod.


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