The agony of defeat

I could no longer get into size 34 pants. My plan was to stop drinking beer. Theoretically, the bulk of my calories came from my beer binges, which are always accompanied by food binges costing in the range of 3000 to 5000 thousand calories (not including the beer). If I cut out the beer, there would not be food binges as I rarely binge on food without beer. That would be how I lost weight. So I stopped drinking beer and some weight came off, and then the damn digital scale stuck at 190.5. I just couldn't break the 190 barrier. Every day I got up and weighed myself in my underwear and then -- damn, still 190.5.

And then I came into some serious woman problems and got really depressed and said fuck it, I'm buying some malt liquor and a pumpkin pie and a block of goddamn cheddar cheese. If you add in the beer calories and all the other crap I ate which I really don't quite remember, we're probably talking around 6000 calories beyond what I already ate that day, so that should have gotten converted to about two and a half pounds of of additional weight. (I don't remember the exact formula.) The next day I was too terrified to look at the scale but decided to just say fuck it again and peel open a whole can of mixed nuts. Of course I deluded myself into thinking I would only eat a few. The nuts were 2040 calories alone. I also made six hard boiled eggs and dipped them straight into a whole crap load of mayo. (Who says mayo is a gentile thing? I could eat this stuff straight.) My stomach was so acidic from the beer the previous day and probably screwed up from the bitterness of the nuts that I took my whipping cream that I use for coffee, poured it into a jar, shook it up until it was viscous and drank it. This counters acid very well and tastes really yummy too. I did this several times. Probably drank several cups of cream, totaling well over a thousand calories.

Today I decided to face the music and assess the damage of all the calories I'd consumed. I took off my t-shirt and weighed myself with only my underwear. I had lost over a pound and broken the 190 barrier finally. My weight was 189.3 There was no use in recalibrating the scale and stepping on it again to replicate the results because this scale never contradicts itself.

The weight fairy had magically taken a good four pounds from me, that I fully deserved to have gained. I don't question the wieght fairy or attempt a scietific explanation for this. If she wants to take my weight away, I let her.

I solicited two women from okay cupid today. I was officially skinny enough to get back into dating so I could become more depressed by women and binge some more and have magical fairies allow me to torture myself some more. I think it's been several months since I've solicited a woman. But fuck it. I need the agony of defeat. The excitement and drama and pathos of dating a women. It keeps me going.

I really botched one of my solicitation letters by being overzealous. But fuck it. I'm rusty. (Notice below, in the letter, that I did not mean to call her a "punker" but a punk rocker. I didn't realize this until later. She was a Ramones fan. It did not matter anyway. I had completely botched the letter by saying "please write." Total sign of desperation. But again, fuck it. It's part of the agony of defeat that I cannot live without.)

Hi

"Buttermilk pancakes w/ maple syrup and sausages, meatloaf-n-mashed potatoes." That's the good stuff. O what I would give for a woman to eat stuff like this with without berating me for its unhealthiness or unkosherness.

My parents are both from Brooklyn. I'm from Brookline. When I was at camp in Rhode Island, the kids would ask me where I was from. And I'd say Brookline, Massachusetts. "Brookyn?" They'd say. "No. Brooook-liiine." Eventually I smartened up and just said I was from Boston. Maybe I should've just said I was from Brooklyn. It would've been the same difference to them.

Would really like to meet the hot punker in the photos. Please write.

-Dickie