Stuffed.
There will be no donuts this day, not for lack of trying, but I have simply run into a rather practical issue - I can't hold any. Saying I am at capacity wouldn't quite be accurate. Based on the discomfort and the trouble I've been having disconnecting my butt from various sitting surfaces, I'd say that I have exceeded capacity. Food levels are at around 326%. You'd think that number would slowly fall. But no. This is a holiday. That number continues to rise. Breakfast cinnamon roles and leftovers. Sandwiches made from leftovers. Leftovers cannibalized from some else's leftover leftovers. When you're resorting to the cannibalisms, it may be time to admit to yourself that you have a problem.
Meanwhile, I need to drop a few pounds, and by a few, I mean roughly twenty pounds, seven of which is solid potato, plus an additional, say, four pounds gained yesterday (and clearly not burned off during my brief attempt to shop, which was a terrible, terrible idea).
To remove said potato paunch, I'm planning a trip to a great park near my family. I'm visiting South Carolina, where the lion's share of my family resides on a permanent basis. Doubtless, they aren't going anywhere, nor is the state, based on the collective amount of food we all ate. I imagine we're weighing down the state quite well, keeping it from blowing away like so many dried fall leaves. Back on track, though, we'll be heading to the only kind of park you'll really find in the Carolina's: The swamp. This is a fantastic place to visit. There are wild boar, alligators, snapping turtles, HUGE mosquitoes and giant flies that will buzz with incredible speed and singular purpose directly towards your face and any openings we have. It's a great way to get exercise - enjoying the outdoors and fleeing in terror from horrible insects and animals to the tune of maybe 30 calories/minute. I know what you're thinking: Why not hop right back in the car when they attack? Out of kindness, no animal shall attack, or allow to be attacked, a person until they reach the farthest point from their vehicle, guaranteeing a 1200 calorie or better fat burn.
Now if you'll excuse me, there are some mosquitoes who haven't had a Thanksgiving meal, and I'd be delighted to allow them to siphon some cholesterol and fat from my haunches, and eat heartily they must. I'd rather they do it that way anyway, leaving their asses grafted to whatever stone they land on for a semi-permanent basis, lest they have the ability to follow me home. Wish me luck.
Meanwhile, I need to drop a few pounds, and by a few, I mean roughly twenty pounds, seven of which is solid potato, plus an additional, say, four pounds gained yesterday (and clearly not burned off during my brief attempt to shop, which was a terrible, terrible idea).
To remove said potato paunch, I'm planning a trip to a great park near my family. I'm visiting South Carolina, where the lion's share of my family resides on a permanent basis. Doubtless, they aren't going anywhere, nor is the state, based on the collective amount of food we all ate. I imagine we're weighing down the state quite well, keeping it from blowing away like so many dried fall leaves. Back on track, though, we'll be heading to the only kind of park you'll really find in the Carolina's: The swamp. This is a fantastic place to visit. There are wild boar, alligators, snapping turtles, HUGE mosquitoes and giant flies that will buzz with incredible speed and singular purpose directly towards your face and any openings we have. It's a great way to get exercise - enjoying the outdoors and fleeing in terror from horrible insects and animals to the tune of maybe 30 calories/minute. I know what you're thinking: Why not hop right back in the car when they attack? Out of kindness, no animal shall attack, or allow to be attacked, a person until they reach the farthest point from their vehicle, guaranteeing a 1200 calorie or better fat burn.
Now if you'll excuse me, there are some mosquitoes who haven't had a Thanksgiving meal, and I'd be delighted to allow them to siphon some cholesterol and fat from my haunches, and eat heartily they must. I'd rather they do it that way anyway, leaving their asses grafted to whatever stone they land on for a semi-permanent basis, lest they have the ability to follow me home. Wish me luck.
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