Friday, August 19, 2016

Middle Aged Body Morphology Blues -OR- The Fugly Wugly Unpleasant Peasant; Rio Olympians Behaving Badly and Crying Sadly

The Fuca Pillar at Cape Flattery, Washington, where the Strait of Juan de Fuca merges with the Pacific Ocean.


I'm very chagrined and unhappy.

My erstwhile fatness is apparently BLOBBING OUT ENORMOUSLY all over again after several years. I have put on at least 10 pounds since my minimum weight of late 2014, and at least half of that, I know, is PURE GELANTIOUS FAT, which makes GOD, YEA, VERILY, DELIRIOUSLY HAPPY.

I was up to 152 pounds (after a full workout) and I always look like an ashen-gray leprechaun whose ugly likeness should be hanging on a car's rear-view mirror (along with some fuzzy dice) to act as a sort of Travelers' Patron Saint and Lucky Charm.

What's worse is my "natural" middle-aged peasant body morphology: shortness; weak, little arms; pot belly; jiggly and fat ass; facially ugly, and frizzy ashen gray hair that looks like a hybrid between Bozo the Clown and male pattern baldness (not because I'm losing any hair -- far from it -- but because of the interplay of certain types of light and that damn ashen color that makes it look almost like my skin color). Oh, and I can't smile because the shadow from my oversized nose often makes it look like I'm missing a front tooth.

There are few people on this planet who photograph uglier than I do.

You morons. What are you, two of Jerry's Kids??

(Assuming this isn't Photo-shopped. You never know.)


But at least I have my BELOVED BETROTHED -- or is it BETROLLED? -- BIG Y'EYEMAH and her HUEUEUEUEUEGE HOLDINGS to love me and coo AT ME ...

"A hehehehe ... I think you're cute. I always thought you could add a few pounds!"


See, in GOD YAHWEH-THREE-IN-ONE's TRIUNE UNIFIED Reality, BIG Y'EYEMAH is cooing like this -- all while eating a corndog and drinking a 64-ounce Dr. Pepper ...

... while I'm in an apoplectic rage, grand-mal seizure Bell's (pepper?) palsied face-contorted (sort of like Hysterically G., only totally furious), twitching uncontrollably, and screaming to the world around me, "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I HATE YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I HATE YOU! FUCK YOU, TOO! DIE! DIE! DIE! AAAAAHHHH!!!"

Oh, and I get banned from ANOTHER awful place. Or another shitty, failed friendship comes to a merciful end. Meanwhile, she just chuckles warmly.

Here I am feeding, or rather, drinking ANOTHER goddamn vodka whatever.

I actually hate liquor. Fine. But I don't know how to be a teetotaling closet-case living in some shitty Southern McMansion gated community with a bunch of morbidly obese neighbors, singing praises to Jesus while He Saves at Walmart.


Truthfully, and more than anything, I just can't stand -- indeed detest -- how I look like an ashen gray leprechaun. When I mention my parents to people -- at least twice now in the past week -- I get incredulous looks that someone as ugly and old as I can still have living parents.

Oh, look, everybody, it's me.


This wasn't the entry I had in mind but I'm way too tired after just 5 hours of sleep last night and a full day. I didn't go to the gym tonight -- it was a non-gym night. What's more, my gym is closing for a 3-day late August lull-time summer cleaning. In addition, the pool is closed for nearly a week. What's more, my next two Saturday plans are such that I won't be able to make it.

That being the case, I'm taking a few hours off tomorrow morning and going. I'll also try to go again on Monday and/or Tuesday before the shutdown and what amounts to about a week off. By the time I return, I'll be back to looking like this ...

As it is, my multi-part gym routine of the past few years is failing to keep up with my middle-aged all-around failure.


I was going to post much more -- including the unlikely one-day story that quite interested me ... No, not the catastrophic flooding in Louisiana after 2 feet of rain in 72 hours last weekend ...

... or the Syrian Gov't or Russian airstrikes in the hellhole that is Aleppo that produced this ...

... but rather the far-less-consequential phony Ryan Lochte robbery-at-gunpoint story at the Rio Games, which blossomed today practically into an international diplomatic incident between Brazil and the United States.

This purported robbery -- which really involved a drunken fracas around 7AM at a gas station where they had gone in a taxi -- followed a night of partying and heavy drinking, first at a Rio night club and perhaps a private party (or two) Saturday night into Sunday morning (following completion of their swimming competitions).

The situation involves Lochte, age 32, and his teammates Jack Conger, 21; Gunnar Bentz, 20; and James Feigen, 26. When discrepancies in their stories emerged, the police investigated -- and pulled Conger and Bentz off a flight. Lochte managed to hightail it out of there, though, and is back in the States.

Jack Conger and Gunnar "Gunny Bunny" Bentz...

Dumb, spoiled, privileged punks.

The incident -- captured at least in part on video -- happened at a gas station and reportedly includes vandalism, urinating on the building, being briefly detained by an armed security guard at the gas station until they paid about $50 for the damage and then later filing false police reports.Brazilian authorities are very agitated given the particulars -- and their sensitivities, given what a truly violent-crime-plagued city is Rio and very real multiple crimes committed against other Olympic athletes and officials during the Games.

Ryan Lochte is truly a frickin' self-absorbed narcissist, not to mention incredibly dumb. And what a nice way to throw under the his teammates and friends. Jackass. Apparently, the lying-to-the-police part started when Lochte told his mother the robbery story and then (apparently because she didn't know it was a lie and she should keep her mouth shut) she blabbed to the media.

As an update, Bentz and Conger were allowed to leave Brazil earlier tonight -- as the picture directly shows (amid a media frenzy). Bentz looks particularly traumatized by the whole thing. Good. That means he's less likely to do shit like that again. As for Feigen, he hasn't been allowed to go just yet.


Compare that mess to the French pole vaulter -- Renaud Lavillenie -- who was booed by the frickin' Brazilians two nights in a row and started to cry even after winning a silver medal. Classless a-holes. That's the kind of stuff you expect from fans at a Saturday night high school American football.

Renaud Lavillenie cries while being booed on a second night at the Rio games this past Tuesday after he won the silver medal.


At least the Brazilian guy who won -- Thiago Braz da Silva -- and a former Olympic pole vaulting gold medalist were decent to him afterwards ...

A wonderful picture: Brazilian pole vaulting gold medalist Thiago Braz da Silva and former Soviet Olympics pole vaulting gold medalist Sergey Bubka meet and console Renaud Lavillenie after the booing incident in Braz da Silva's home country.

OK, maybe Lavillenie shouldn't have compared himself to Jesse Owens in Berlin in 1936 after the first night, but as he said in his apology tweet, it was a "hot reaction," and his anger is understandable. I mean, imagine, if you will, spending all those years to achieve that kind of world-class excellence and then have that shit happen at the Olympics at what should be a pinnacle moment in your life ...?

This wasn't the Cold War-era 1980 "Miracle on Ice" Soviet Union versus the United States hockey teams (which, yes, I remember), so no need for booing.


But I'm too ugly, old, and tired to write at present, so I'm signing off for now.

Maybe I'll never update the blog again. But I'm so close to frickin' entry #2,000 -- this is entry #1,995 -- that I suppose I'll post at least five more. However, I doubt I'll be able to time it for a jukebox Saturday night entry as I did with entry #1,000 almost three years ago to the day. (So far, Wall-P and his ilk haven't removed those music videos, although the lead one is a replacement one.)

OK, that's all for now.

Oh, yes, one last item: I finally cleaned out my window air conditioner filter -- I had basically forgotten to do it for the past few years -- and it was disgusting. But now it's clean and the a/c is working quite well. It's actually cool in this tiny dust trap of an apartment.


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