So now I'm eating dry meat, warmed slightly, with a pound of wet leaves and about a gallon of water a day. I look at people, and they look like bags of Skittles. Two of my co-workers were inadvertently standing next to each other and I saw nothing but Twix. It was awkward explaining to them why I was gnawing at their shirts trying to tear open the package. Man it's nuts losing weight. I've stopped the cross country trek for right now. I'm basically in Irwindale right now. Think I'll just park it here for a couple of weeks and eat twigs and leaves for a while and then try the bike again. The reason? Well, I overheard my bike talking to some other bikes at how it hated me and wanted me to die. Apparently I've been too much for him to bear; his frame was shuddering at the mere thought of my riding any further. So here we are. Irwindale. 40ish miles from where I started. And that took how many months? Oh god. I need a baguette.

And I'm sure you can see from the dates of my postings, my blogging is sporadic, so what's the chance my biking to the east coast be? Constancy is what I'll need for me to reach the east coast, and that, well shit, I have a donut waiting for me. How can you argue against that?

Well, I spend a lot of time worrying. That's certainly what I do. Not sure why I'm telling you this. Not even sure who you are. But sufficed to say I'm still fat. And I'm still a bastard. I can tell you how I got to be the one, but not the other. Though I'm not sure who you are. I'm not sure who any of you are.

Liberals need to go rural. Yes, that's right, liberals need to go rural. Move your liberals selves into rural states and breed like rabbits. Overwhelm the population. Be dogmatic in your liberalism, and move your vote to where it's needed more.
Aside from that typing, I've ne'er exercised this past bit since post last. I've subsisted mostly on fast sugars and trembling fear. Starburst have become soothing. Sleep is the enemy. Must stay awake. Starburst. Smell the fear.

It's been almost an hour since I blogged that I decided to lose weight, and I haven't lost any weight. I'm getting really discouraged. I need a bag of chips.

So I finally decided to try, at least a little bit, to extend my life some and purge my system of some much unneeded weight. I'm fat, my feet hurt, and short of some ether and a van, I'll never be able to fulfill my celebrity sex wish list. So here we go:

I'm going to ride my bike across the country.

From the end of Wilshire Blvd. near where I live in Santa Monica, Ca., all the way back to Stanhope, NJ, where I grew up to be the fat bastard I am now (long story). My bike? My route? My plan? Next time. It's enough I've made the decision. Now I feel like eating a stick of butter.