Just did an hour on an elliptical trainer while watching Dateline NBC: To Catch a Predator. I normally don't work out at night but I didn't work out this morning. Also, I came home and had the urge to eat. A lot. You see, there's a lot of fat guys out there that say they don't eat a lot and that they have no idea why they're so fat. I used to be one of those guys but I've analyzed myself and realized that every calorie counts and I ate my share. And your share.
I had a moment of weakness in the kitchen and fortunately I don't have any junk food in the house. I did, however, focus my fat aggression on an entire spaghetti squash. I cooked the squash, peeled the spaghetti-like insides of the vegetable, put some spaghetti sauce over the "noodles," looking like a huge freaking plate of pasta and I proceded to fuck... it... up. My caloric intake was probably not as much as my distended gut would tell. However a full gut = fat guilt = a trip to the gym.
The only thing that can deaden the pain of an hours worth of exercise is Chris Hansen chasing down internet pedophiles. Tee fucking hee.
Anyways, off to bed. I'm exhausted. I haven't slept well in a few days now.
goochout.
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