The Buzz Kill

Guess what???!!!! I bought new clothes! SNOOPY DANCE!!

Yes, I did.  I bought new clothes.  I went shopping with Bridget and Auntie Visa and we had ourselves a party right in the store! And I HATE shopping! Especially with Bridget! (Or my sister and daughter, cause they are “try things on” people.  I loathe try things on people.  With all my soul)

Oh my, things are soo much prettier when you can actually FIT into them! I bought the most adorable little halter top…YUP! A halter top!  Imagine that!  And the cool thing is, my boobs are small enough now that I don’t look like Plus Size Barbie when I wear it. BONUS!

Bridget and I conducted an experiment yesterday.  Now, we all know how good an ice cold frosty beer tastes on any normal day, right? Well, we wanted to see if you take that same ice cold frosty beer, and combine it with a night of extravagant shopping for no good reason, would this beer taste better?? What do you think??

Well the answer we came up with is DAMN STRAIGHT IT DOES! Wayy better!

So it was a great day!  Even though Dave yelled at me for buying clothes…I mean, REALLY, it was only a few tops.  I didn’t even buy pants! But, Bridget and I made a plan to buy new pants today.  However, after I returned home last evening (with my shopping bag stuffed into my purse, showing no evidence that I made a purchase) I finally had to let Dave in on the fun we had, and showed him my receipt.  He is not pleased, let me tell you.  I think he is mad because 1. I tried smuggling them into the house in my purse, secret like.  Well hell…it’s not like HE’S gonna know what is new and what isnt!  2.  Spending money is very out of character for me.  So I went upstairs to pout and feel bad,  which lasted until I opened the bag and tried on the clothes, so approximately 3.2 seconds.  To follow is the text messages that passed between Bridget and I over the next 30 minutes:

V: OMG Davey is a douche. And he is mad at me.  Which is prolly y I am calling him a douche.

B: Y?

V: cuz I was out til ten and spent $75…And drank the best tasting beer of my life. He is now called BKD=Buzz Kill Davey.

B: Why did you tell him?? SILLY! I thought u had that stuff jammed in your purse?

V: Cuz he didn’t believe that we shopped until 9 and I showed him the time stamp on the receipt…8:55 BTW! DOIII! I am such a wad..

B: yes, yes you are, Donkey. I realize this may be a touchy subject but are we still doing the pants shopping tonight?

V: I can’t get pants. SIGH.  Dave is a wad.

B: ahhhh super duper bummer. Wad. Ugh.

So. There ya have it.  No pants.  But it’s okay.  I found all kinds of pretty pants in the attic!

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend….And eat well, drink lots of water, and get plenty of SEXercise…I know I certainly will! **giggle**

Today’s playlist song was submitted by Tara Wooley, who is originally from Adams, MA, but currently lives in like Gardner or Lunenburg?? I can’t remember Tara. Sorry, my brain has been a bit overloaded these days, what with no beer, no food, and extreme exercises.  Come to think of it, I might just be slipping into a hypoglycemic coma….

The Scorpions, “Rock You Like A Hurricane”….KICK A$$ song!

Mission Log…

Mission Goals: Kill FatChick…forever

Mission Obstacles: The freezing cold weather, for one. And FatChick’s dire need for chocolate.

Cigarettes Smoked: I’d rather not discuss it

Calories Consumed:  At least 100, every couple hours. 

Pounds Lost: THIRTEEN!!!!!

Misson Log:

The battle ensues, but FatChick is waving the white flag.  She is surrendering.  She has put up a tremendous effort to stay alive thus far, but I am happy to report that she has been fatally wounded and she be will shown no mercy.

I have slain 13lbs off of FatChick’s frame.  13 blubbery, jiggly, fatty pounds.  Good riddance.  Two entire pants sizes.  I am thinking about buying FatChick some thongs ** giggle**….Well, perhaps I will hold off until her Joanne is entirely cleared up, which, incidentally, is starting to bother her again.  Stupid Joanne.

The recent cold weather has put a damper on our evening walks outdoors, but I have pushed FatChick onto the treadmill every night for those 3 miles.  I am enjoying every second of it. So is she.

FatChick has taken to singing at the top of her lungs while walking.  This is somewhat embarrassing when out in public, but at home, it is appropriate.  Yesterday, while she was actually singing and dancing on the treadmill to The Bangles “Hazy Shade of Winter”, she yelled out at the top of her lungs ” MORE COWBELL!!”.  This was incredibly amusing to me, and to the family members that heard her,  but I do also really like the cowbell part of that song.

Mission Control is elated over the success of this mission.  He is, however, incredibly sad to see the Weapons of Mass Destruction gradually  dwindle away.  I keep trying to assure him that this is normal, and these are the first things  to be destroyed.  He almost cried.  I am not worried.  They can’t get that small, for Pete’s sake.

Further report next week….

Today’s playlist song is ” Hazy Shade of Winter” by The Bangles….MORE COWBELL!!

Nothin But a Good Time

I was at Sarah’s over the weekend, when I overheard Davey telling all our  friends how funny I am on the treadmill.  Now, those of you that know me, know that I am fun all the dang time.  I make boring seem fantastic.  I make work feel like a game.  I make naps look like a party for cripes sake.  So of COURSE, I will find a way to make exercise fun….that’s a freakin no brainer.

Dave was telling our  friends how he walked into the house while I was on the treadmill, and heard the most outrageous, explicit, down right dirty language spewing from my sweaty, out of breath mouth.  And he stood in the kitchen, trying to figure out what the hell I was saying.  Or in this case…singing….

It was the lyrics to “Get Low” by Lil John…which are half obscenities, half gibberish, and ALL fun to sing. (Google them) He walked in while I was singing at the top of my lungs, and I quote  ” to the sweat drop down my balls, wow these b*tches crawl…down skeet skeet muthaf*ckaaaahhh!!”

And then he started to “laugh to God”, as my Avery would say when he was 6.  Avery’s “Laugh to God” is the equivalent of a grown-up “piss yourself laughing”.  Hence: It’s a pretty darn good laugh.

I guess I never realized how loud I was singing….(hangs head sheepishly and grins)

So, the point of the story…yes, let’s please get back to that before I drown you with my words.  Which I could very easily do.  But I will try to refrain today. Promise.  Mostly because I like you all, and I would hate for you to drown.  Well….most of you anyways.

Now prepare yourselves…I am about to get a little “Denise Austin” on ya….

The point is, a lot of you have been sharing with me your weight loss stories.  Some horrifying.  Some successful.  Some that fall in between.  And I want to know…Is YOUR exercise fun?? IS IT??? No?? Well, MAKE it fun people!  Sheesh….if it was not fun, do you think I would be DOING IT??  You take away my beer. My chocolate. My fried everythings.  So hooks me up with  a little playlist, some ear buds, and an ( I swear it was empty when I started) empty house, and I am gonna rock this house to the ground.  And I am totally serious.

Try this: Get on your treadmill. (or other exercise apparatus)  Crank the tunes til they almost hurt your ears. Then, while exercising, SING YOUR HEART OUT. Anything you want. WHO CARES? You are workin it girlfriend. If you can’t breathe well enough to sing along to a  song, you are working harder than your body’s ability. SLOW DOWN.  Find the beat, and rock the shit out of it. Throw in some air guitar, and an air drum solo, and you have yourself an honest to goodness party.  Trust me. I do it every single day.

And when you move on to weights (which if you are not doing, start. Immediately after a cardio session. It works) keep that iPod plugged right in.  If you have hand weights, then shake your booty with every lift.  Dance like no one is looking.  Make it FUNKY…notice FUN is the first part of FUNKY.  My butt is shakin’ like nobody’s business, and ya know what?? I like it.  I like my workout. Cause I made it MINE.

So find that groove, girls, and get in it.  Cause if you don’t like what you are doing, you most certainly will not do it. You are all looking for your iPods, aren’t ya??(which is somewhat the point of the playlist suggestions)  SEE!! Try it! Just be careful with the guitar solos. You don’t want to get hurt. Start slow, and don’t try to be Slash, Eddie Van Halen or CeCe DeVille right off the bat….they are  for trained professionals in air-guitar-performance-while-treadmilling sorts. Start slow, with maybe a sick riff from Journey or  Heart. I will not be responsible for broken legs, broken keyboard trays, or bald spots from hair being sucked up into the treads.  Yes, that was an actual disclaimer.  I am covered.  Phew…

Today’s playlist song is dedicated to two women who have been over the top successful in achieving their goals. Claire Morin Gravel, and Meg Thomson Bulawa. You kick butt, ladies, and I am super-duper in love with your success. This is one of my favorite, rock your socks off, I- am- gonna- be- skinny- no- matter- how- hard- it- is, or how- sweaty- my -crevices- get songs…This one will ALWAYS make me keep going…Poison’s “Nothin But A Good Time”….DO NOT TRY CECE’S SOLO UNTIL YOU PRACTICE!!!

(see below video for Wednesday recipe)

Today’s recipe was submitted by my friend, co-worker, and walking buddy, Krista Cardinal Dupee of North Adams, MA.  She states, and I quote: ” if the recipe calls for ground beef, use turkey. Every time”.   I love it.  Don’t hold back all the details, Krista…Seriously though, the meatloaf aka turkey loaf is the bomb…like tick tick boom…I think she’s got something here…

SEXercise

***WARNING: CONTENT NOT SUITABLE FOR MY PARENTS, CHILDREN, OR ANYONE ELSE WHO THINKS THAT MY TMI HAS PREVIOUSLY REACHED ITS MAXIMUM SHOCK POTENTIAL***

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED- READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

My sister Amy called me last week and recommended I read an article on MSNBC titled “10 Secrets of the  Effortlessly Skinny”.  First off, I find the title of this article to be absolutely ludicrous. Effortlessly Skinny??? Get the frig outta here.  There is no such thing whatsoever.  And upon reading this article, I found that there is not one single ” secret” that does not require effort, whether it be physical or mental. See?   It is a very intriguing concept, this effortlessly skinny.  I, for one, would LOVE to meet one of these people, and I doubt I ever will, as they are as mythical as a unicorn.

As I have mentioned previously, my sister has not gained an ounce since high school.  She looks wonderful, and she WORKS at it.  She does not eat ice cream for dinner.  She does not sit on her duff watching TV and stuffing her face with Lay’s.  She WALKS.  Constantly.  She goes to the gym. She takes the stairs.  She eats healthy, low-calorie, well-balanced  meals every single day of her life.  She weighs herself consistently to watch her weight.  This, I believe, requires effort, yes??  I don’t think that she twitches her nose and floats to work every day, (although if you knew Amy as a child, you would find her ability to perform this feat more believable than a unicorn sighting).  If I were the younger sister, I would  have done all these things too, as a preventative, because  as you can see, FatChick-ness runs in our family. Unless you do the work.  I wish I had someone older than  me to show me what happens to your booty when you eat Oreos for breakfast.  OHMYDAMN I miss Oreos for breakfast…

Speaking of articles, my very good friend Lisa (who is a total Zipper, by the way.  Love ya Lisa, but it’s wicked true) sent me a link to an article recently regarding the caloric effects of having sex.  One theory is, if a person engages in 30 minutes of foreplay followed by 30 minutes of sex, you can burn 143 calories.  I am absolutely jaw-dropping stunned by this, for three reasons. 1. Holy crapoly am I in the wrong line of exercise.  2. THIRTY MINUTES OF SEX?? Oh My Gawd.    I cannot remember the last time I engaged in a sexual act that lasted any longer than 14 minutes, max.  With foreplay. I have had longer showers than sex. I have seen longer commercials for cripes sake.  Dave would have to get a  partner.  I don’t think that he would be apt to agree to a tag in, tag out, WWF type evening.  And 3. FOREPLAY?? Who has THAT anymore? Foreplay in my house is an instrumental song by Boston.  Period.

Hey…I am not saying its lacking anything. It’s all good in the end.  We just burn 43 calories instead of 143

**smirk**

Today’s playlist song is dedicated to my Zipper friend, Lisa…She has not been aforementioned because if there is any one mythical- unicorn- like- effortlessly- skinny- person in this word, it is she….And I hate that she gets to eat all the Oreos she wants….That witch is actually trying to gain weight. See? Told ya…Dupa Juda….Here’s some Foreplay for ya Shortcake….

For YOU!

I had the most amazing workout yesterday.  I did my three miles on the tread, and lifted for another 20 minutes after that.  I immediately went outside to sit for a minute, and noticed how heinous my backyard looked.  Dave had raked the side and front yards, but hadn’t gotten around to the front. So stupid me, I go grab the rake.  Four hours later, I finished.  Today, I can barely move.  I will never ever say to Dave again ” You just did yard work” when arguing about who does all the work around here. He can totally have the yard work, and I will clean toilets and mop floors with great pleasure from this point on.

Note to self: when recovered from concussion and black eyes, go to Wal-Mart and buy smaller, properly fitting sports bras.

On a happier note, I finally retrieved all of my old clothes from the bee attic, without incident.  I was packin’ Raid, and thankfully did not need to use it.  I found a zillion things to wear, and am now fitting my fatness into a size 10..YES!!! Some of the pants are a bit of a squeeze, and I definitely could not wear them if I wanted to do things, like say, move or breathe…But 3 pairs of size 10 pants fit, and I am most certainly going to rock the shit outta them as often as I can!  

While I was on the treadmill yesterday, I found my mind wandering off  to all of you. To all of you that have written me, to all that are following these posts and laughing and crying right along with me. I have to be honest here, I don’t think that I would be half as diligent as I have been if it were not for writing these stories.  While I was busting my hump on the tread, I could actually picture each of you doing this with me.  We WILL get there, we WILL succeed.   You and this blog have kept me going, making me stick this out and see the results I was looking for.  Thank you, all of you, for being here for me, every single day.  Today’s post and playlist song is dedicated to YOU,  for your hard work, diligence, commitment, and for your daily support…You all know who you are,  and I love you for sharing yourselves with me, and working like dogs with me.  And if you find yourselves needing just one more push….Today I give special recognition to my cousin, Heather Witherell, who, at 39 weeks pregnant, continues teaching cardio and martial arts classes, while STILL doing her own daily workouts…..You go girl, you are MY inspiration….now have that baby please!

 This one is for you…Pat Benatar..MAN she is still hot!  Let’s rock it ladies….”Invincible”

Plus Size

I want to know. What is the difference between Queen Size and Plus Size??  Are they the same, with different names? Is a Queen bigger than a Plus?  Plus bigger than a Queen? Is there a Queen Plus?  And what is Plus?? Plus what? And Queen??? Are Queens large by nature??  And what are you if you do not fit into a Plus, or a Queen, but yet extra large is too small?  I do not understand. This completely blows my mind.

For Halloween this year, I had an emotional breakdown while shopping for costumes.  Halloween costumes are not meant for FatChicks.  I could not fit even one breast into the  “extra-large” size, never mind the rest of my body.  The Plus size costumes were too large on top, and I think that the manufacturers of these costumes feel that a “Plus size” person is overweight and puffly,  with giant breasts and exceptionally long shoulder-to- chest areas. The Queen size costumes virtually hung off of my not very small frame, and are much wider throughout the entire outfit. I now believe they are designed for cross dressing line backers.   In and out of the dressing room I went, with various costumes in an array of sizes and categories.  No dice.  Nothing fit right.  “So is there a FatChick size??”, I asked the attendant, in a small, hope filled voice.   He did not understand.  He said ”Umm, yeah, umm…umm…did you try the Plus size?”

Never mind, you freaking moron.  Yes I tried it.  It doesn’t fit. NOTHING fits.   Piss off ya skinny puke.

I ended up buying a costume.  A  Plus size Robin.  And I rocked the Fat Robin on Halloween with a too large top, a too long shoulder to breast area, and my boobies at risk of falling out with every laugh I had.   Bridget was Batman.  A small, skinny, sexy Batman.  Standing with a 5′ 8″  large breasted, big boned, overweight,  gunt protruding Robin.  There was definitely something wrong with that picture.

Next year, I am going to be Wonder Woman, dammit.  A skinny, hot, and toned Wonder Woman.  And she has no side kicks.  Beat it, Bridget….

Today’s playlist song was submitted by one of my favorite friends, Suzan O’Neil from Pittsfield, MA.  Even though the beeeatch doesn’t read the blog, she gave me a song.  Supafreakayyyyy…..

FatChick On Top!

There are a few things I did not consider before beginning to write these stories.  It didn’t ever occur to me that so many people would be reading them, first off.  There are people I do not even know that are reading these stories.  People that I do not even know that now know all these little details in my life.   And my weight.  And that I grow pubic hair at an exceedingly rapid rate. And that my giant fat girl underpants gave me a boil on my bum.

And then there is the fact that there is 100 people that I do know  that now  know these things about me as well. **shudder**

I also did not take into consideration the fact that people now look at me.  And I mean look at me.  I cannot tell you how many people have looked at my gut instead of my face while speaking to me  in the last 2 weeks. Now, I am used to men looking at my girls instead of my face when talking to me.  They are borderline giant girls, and I have often snapped my fingers in the face of men and said  “Hellooooo pervy..yes, my FACE is talking to you, not my boobs.  Hey  thanks”….  But how do I approach the gut staring? Women are looking me up, down, and back up again before continuing on with their conversation with me.  This makes me somewhat uncomfortable. Yes, I do have a gut.  Um, hi??  What part of FatChick do you not understand?? No, it did not disappear overnight…yes, it is smaller, but still ever present.  And it is shy, so please do not stare at it.  You are making it self conscious. Kay, thanks.

Thursday night, during the NFL Draft, the girls and I decided to do a cheerleader pyramid.  We do this often, like every few months or so, when we are feeling good, and there is a large group of us together.  I am always bottom row, center, due to my exceptional cheerleading history, my brute strength, and my giant size. I have never in my life been in the second, or even top row, of any pyramid or any other cheerleading infrastructure.  I was always the bottom.  Holding all the skinny chicks up.  Getting stepped on, climbed on, sat on,  with sneaker hickeys all over my shoulders, butts sitting on my head, holding all the skinny girls up in their happy pose,  for pictures or games. Tossing the skinny girls into the air, soaring, soaring, watching them twist and turn and do toe touches, mid air, before landing gracefully back into my arms. No one looks at the girls on the bottom.  Mainly because you can’t see them under all the  cute, smiling, skinny girls on top.

But not on Thursday….

On Thursday, as my friends and I set up for the pyramid, I assumed my bottom row center position.  And my friends all yelled ” FatChick on top!! FATCHICK ON TOP!”  Oooh boy, this could get ugly….

And on top I was….for the first time, in all my 35 years on this planet, I was on the top……

Sarah is in my usual spot, bottom center...you cannot see her through Mary Rose, but she is there

Even though I was on top, I was not light…..Poor Kim and Bridget…Sorry ladies, for busting your backs . I don’t call myself FatChick for nuthin…

And we allll......falllll......doooowwwwnnn!

Today’s playlist song was submitted by Kimmy “GIBBLER!” St. Pierre Racine, of North Adams, MA.  I have been singing it since last night. Thanks Kim,for the suggestion. A lil LL Cool J in da hizzay….oh, sorry…I am getting carried away again.

Mission Log, Day 37

Mission Goal: Release SkinnyChick from evil fat captors

Mission Obstacles: Several late nights, children, baked goods, and the NFL Draft

Calories Consumed: at least 100 every 2 hours

Pounds Lost: 11.6

Mission Log:

I am pleased to report that I am only 18.4 pounds away from freedom. I expect my first public appearance somewhere in the late June, early July range, if the mission goes as planned.

FatChick had a very tough week.  Once again, kind patients in her office have brought several baked goods in for her and the other girls.  There have been cookie drop offs, miniature chocolate packages, and the be all that ends all…a giant box of cannoli from this little italian bakery in Chicopee.

Yes, there is a large box of cannoli in the refrigerator at work as we speak. Lovely, creamy, crispy cannoli.  I had to tie FatChick to her chair in order to keep her from eating them. She just kept going back to that refrigerator, and opening the door, and smelling them.  She would open the box and just stare at them, with dribblets of drool hanging from her chin.  It was a sad, pathetic sight, and was almost too painful to watch.  It was a struggle all day to keep her away.  I moved all of her fruits and vegetables to the small, college sized refrigerator at the office.  This device tends to freeze anything with liquid in it, and is not commonly used for fruits and veggies, but I had to make the transfer.  I am hoping that Dr. BossMan took the box of cannoli home. I am not sure I can keep FatChick confined to her chair for another day.  I, too, need to use the bathroom, and I cannot go because I must stand guard over the refrigerator while FatChick is in there.

Our daily workouts together are becoming more and more difficult.  I have swapped out FatChick’s weights for a heavier set.  She is getting stronger every day, and it was time.  FatChick was struggling at first with the additional weight, but she is now powering through the lifts every day.  Yes, every day.  I am so proud of her.  She is able to do 15 pushups in a row before needing a break.  You think this is not a significant number? Ok, drop and give me 15 then.  I dare you. You won’t make it past 8, I promise you this.

We will be scouring the attic this weekend, looking for clothes that fit. Mission Control is scheduled to help.  FatChick is frightened of the attic.  She will not set foot up there once the temperature hits 60 degrees outdoors.  There is apparently ways for bees to enter the attic, and she refuses to enter these barracks alone, unarmed.  She is not a fan of the bee.  She runs and screams like a girl when one is in the vicinity, and spends April through October wearing a holstered gun of Raid in case she finds herself under attack. Speaking of which, the base is low on ammo.  I must remember to radio Mission Control for backup ammo before we find ourselves armed with only flip flops.  This will never do, because FatChick would have to actually go near the bee to squash it. I don’t see that happening, since, as I have previously reported, she runs and screams like a girl.

I am hopeful for a productive weekend.  I have denied FatChick’s request for a two day leave. She is quite mad at me, but tough shit.  I am dying in all this fat, and she is just going to have to get over it. I do not plan on granting her leave for at least the next six weeks, and she is still not permitted to drink beer.  I did allow her to have a beer on Wednesday, as there was a reason to celebrate.  But last night, during the NFL Draft, she snuck beer when I was not looking.  There was a very loud argument between us, as she insists that anything to do with football allows her to have a beer.  I am lost in understanding this logic, but there were several other football fans who had sided with FatChick on this.  I must further investigate the NFL/Miller Lite rules before making a decision.  In the meantime, I have locked her in the brig.  I don’t know who she thinks she is talking to here, as I am now in control of all ops on base, not her. I knew there would be a power struggle at some point.  Best to get it out early, and avoid future confrontations.

Full report next week

Today’s playlist song is submitted by Jennifer Harvey Hohn of North Adams, MA.  This one is not on my iPod, but it has a pretty good beat. Check it out, ” Lose Yourself” by Eminem

Happy Earth Day

I have to type from the desk top,with the broken keyboard tray.  I  have been unable to use my laptop since yesterday because my WiFi is flaccid and in desperate need of an electronic  Viagra.  Beans…

Last night was a long one. Due to the impending rain and thunderstorms  that never occurred, I opted for 2 miles on the treadmill over the 3 mile walk with Bridget.  I really have to give props to Bridget here.  When we took our first walk, she did sorta kinda whine a bit. About everything, from the hills to the distance to the speed and even that her clothes did not match exactly.   But hey, that’s Bridget, and I love her.   She has even perfected whining with only her eyes, making not a sound, just like my dogs.   I wish she could teach my children this trick.  But on our last walk, she was awesome.  She keeps a good pace, and good conversation, and the only time she whined was when we went up Barth Street, and I was most definitely whining too. That hill is a VICIOUS! ! Oh my goodness! I am so glad I have gotten her up and moving too. Not that she needs it weight wise cause my goal is to actually wear HER clothes someday (giggle), but exercise is good for the whole body, mind and spirit and I am super glad that she is joining me.  And I really love her clothes.

Dave went to work yesterday ( yes, he is back to work, thank you sweet baby Jesus) and told his boss about this blog.   His boss had heard of this since he is my  Facebook friend, but had never read it.  He thought that the content of the blog was me making fun of fat people.  What a friggen hoot!! I laughed right out loud! Umm no….it’s just me making fun of  fat me! I am really super nervous that Dr. Bob the Bossman will learn of this blog  soon as well, and I am hoping that he never reads it.  WARNING: The information contained on this site is way more information than you ever wanted to know about your  long time employee. While I do have a very small male reader population, it currently does not consist of my dad and my boss.  And I really would rather it stay that way.  Just sayin’

I am not a fan of  very little sleep. I think we should start a page on Facebook, become a fan of “Not a fan of very little sleep”. Oh wait, we aren’t fans anymore, we just ” like”.  Stupid idea, this “Like” business.  Of course we like it, that is why we are FANS.  Anyway, last night, I had very little sleep. And when I did manage to fall asleep, I would wake up because I had to pee.  I am really getting sick of all the peeing going on in my life. I am drinking water like it is going out of style, because I have given up all other forms of liquid and solid pleasures.   I can’t make it to the grocery store and back without having to empty my bladder at least once. I barely can make it through the 3 mile walk without a trip into someone’s rhododendron bushes. My boss has threatened to move my desk and phone line into the bathroom at work.  It’s really that bad.

And don’t even get me started on what all this roughage has done to my digestive system.   I am like a horse.  Every time I take a step, I have to poop. You can only imagine how uncomfortable these walks have been, what with a full bladder and overactive bowel.  It’s becoming quite a nuisance.   Based on my bowel habits alone, this relationship is bound to fail.

So in celebration of Earth Day, I am going to pick up trash on my walk tonight, and make a good, solid effort to not excrete any of my bodily wastes  along the way.  Wish me luck.

Today’s playlist song was submitted by Paula Burdick of Florida, MA.  This is one of my absolute favorite ” get yo butt movin” songs, but it is absolutely inappropriate for children under the age of 18 and senior citizens, and pretty much anyone who doesn’t enjoy sex and profanity.  Hey, like I said, it’s one of my favorites!   This is “Crazy Bitch” by BuckCherry.  Killer beat…

 

You Can Do It!

Okay, so today is Wednesday Weigh Day… I am repeating in my head, over and over, that muscle weighs more than fat.  Say it with me now…muscle weighs more than fat…I almost have myself convinced.

I woke up this morning, drank my coffee, and opened my email. I have been getting a ton of spam, since I had to be a cool guy and put my email on a public website.  I am bombarded immediately with ” Home Warranty For Less”, ” Go Back To School Now” and ” Hot Singles In Your Area”…delete, delete, delete….and then I see it.  The sender’s name rings a bell somewhere in the back of my head. Subject line: Operation: Kill FatChick.

It’s from Jennifer Huberdeau. Yes, OUR Jennifer Huberdeau, senior reporter for the North Adams Transcript.  She wants to interview FatChick…yes,  THIS FATCHICK, for the Transcript. Can you freaking BELIEVE THAT???

HOLY CHEESE AND CRACKERS BATMAN!!!!!

I am shaking with equal parts excitement and terror.  ME?? In the Transcript?? And it’s NOT in the Police Log?? Who’d a thunk it hey??

Let me remind you all, I have only lost, as of last Wednesday Weigh Day, a mere 10.3lbs.  If there is a photo, please do not be disappointed. It has only been 6 weeks, after all….maybe they will just take photos of my “guns” 

***giggle***

Today’s recipe was submitted by Mary Molloy LaBombard, of Adams, MA.  This was a terrific recipe, and I don’t even like olives!  Today’s playlist song will be at the bottom of the page…..

recipes Chicken Breast Sauté Puttanesca-Style POINTS® value | 4 Servings |  4 Preparation Time |  18 min Cooking Time |  15 min Level of Difficulty |  Easy main meals |  Juicy chicken breasts are served on a well-seasoned tomato sauce. Tastes great and looks fantastic – perfect for a small gathering. Ingredients   1 spray(s) cooking spray  1 1/4 pound(s) uncooked boneless, skinless chicken breast  1/2 tsp table salt  1/2 tsp black pepper, freshly ground  2 tsp unsalted butter  3 medium garlic clove(s), minced  1/2 tsp red pepper flakes  10 medium olive(s), black, sliced  1 Tbsp capers, rinsed and drained, chopped  14 oz canned diced tomatoes  Instructions Coat a large nonstick skillet with cooking spray and heat over medium heat. Meanwhile, season the chicken with salt and pepper. Slip the chicken into the skillet and cook until golden brown, about 5 minutes. Flip and continue cooking just until the chicken is cooked through, and an instant-read meat thermometer inserted into the center of one chicken breast registers 165°F, about 3 minutes more. Transfer the chicken to a plate and set aside. Melt the butter in the same skillet and add the garlic and red pepper flakes; stir over the heat for 30 seconds. Stir in the olives and capers; pour in the tomatoes. Bring to a simmer, scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the skillet. Reduce the heat to low and simmer slowly until just slightly reduced, about 3 minutes. Return the chicken and any accumulated juices to the skillet; cook until just warmed through, about 2 minutes. Yields 1 chicken breast and about 1/3 cup sauce per serving. Notes  For the best taste, don’t gray the chicken breasts in the skillet. Be patient and brown them, giving them enough time over the heat and not over-crowding the pan. That caramelized flavor will permeate the meat – and will lie in little burned bits on the skillet’s bottom, waiting to be lifted off with this simple sauce of tomatoes, olives and capers.   Playlist song of the day, submitted my sister, Amy Witherell, of Boston, MA….Ice Cube’s “ You Can Do It”, which is NOT on my iPod, but will be as of today…Go FatChick GO!!!