Losing Weight

 

(Soon, I'll be a skeleton.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. North Korean leader Kim Jong-un has a chubby little daughter named Ju-ae. She attends a lot of events with her fat daddy. You can always see them holding hands. Anyway, according to South Korean intelligence, Ju-ae isn’t very popular within her own nation. Many of the citizens have to scrabble just to eat a couple meals a day, and they’re tired of seeing the princess dressed in her expensive fashionable clothes. On top of that, the teen enjoys expensive hobbies, such as horseback riding and skiing. But this news isn’t a huge surprise. North Korea is run by gangsters, after all.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. Don’t be too harsh in your opinion of me. I know that Tucker got fired, yet I simply can’t stomach the sodomites over at CNN. So what’s a boy to do? Anyhow, a 59-year-old Uber Eats driver from Holiday, Florida, was murdered by a man named Oscar Solis. Oscar is a member of the infamous gang MS-13. He pulled the driver into his home, murdered him, and then dismembered his body. After that, he stuck the bits of flesh and bone into garbage bags and deposited them in the trash. But here’s the kicker. This scumbag served time in Indiana and had a history of assaulting both the inmates and the staff. Nevertheless, the-powers-that-be released him back upon society. Ain’t that a motherfucker?

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “Did you know that I’ve lost 45 pounds over the last six months?”

She clapped her hands joyfully. “That’s wonderful.”

“And yet I’m still a fat son of a bitch. It’s a bit disappointing.”

“How much more do you need to lose to reach your goal?”

“Another thirty-five pounds will bring me back to 180.”

“Are you constantly hungry?”

“Not really. The nicotine gum helps to curb my appetite.”

She sighed heavily. “Be careful with that stuff. It might be harmful over the long term.”

“I’ve got to pick my poison. If I remain obese, then my very life is under threat. Nicotine seems like a much better option.”

I got to work at 8 a.m. and shot the breeze with my co-worker Richard Hurtz. I’ve introduced you to him before. He’s the teacher with the Ivy-League education. Richard is also a great athlete who is nearly seven feet tall. The guy is truly a beast.

We discussed the upcoming school fair. I’m in charge of the wiffle ball activity. The kids will get five soft pitches, and if they manage to crack a homerun, I shall give them a piece of candy. If they hit several dingers, then the rewards shoot up.

I said, “I’m a little disappointed with my club.”

He said, “Why?”

“I asked the members to each purchase a three-dollar bag of candy, but they started bitching like a bunch of homosexual hairdressers.”

“They’re cheap, huh?”

“Cheap ain’t the word. You would have thought I was asking them for their first-born child.”

He chuckled deeply. “So what did you do?”

“I bought the candy myself.”

“How much did it run you?”

“Twenty-five bucks.”

Richard shrugged. “That’s not too bad. It’s not like it’s going to break the bank.”

“But I’m actually a broke dead dick. My wife doesn’t work, so my whole family is dependent on my paltry salary.”

He patted me playfully on the shoulder. “Save the complaining for your mommy. I’ve got my own problems.”

We laughed and laughed and laughed.

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