A lot has been going on this week. First of all, I’m thinking of getting another cat. It’s possibly one more step towards owning Barbara Streisand CD’s and using moisturizer, but whatever. My current kitty needs a playmate because she’s totally out of control. She has to be touching me all the time. I don’t even get a break when I’m on the toilet, because she likes to curl up in my underwear when they’re around my ankles, like a hammock. When I try to shoo her away or ignore her, she starts knocking over garbage cans, and anything not bolted down will end up on the floor.

So I stopped by PetCo today and met someone that volunteers at the kitty shelter. I’m probably going to pick one up after I come back from my business trip. I like saying that, it sounds so professional. “My business trip.” Anyway, I’ll be in CA for a week at the end of this month organizing a Real Estate Investment Seminar. Should be fun.

For those of you who have been keeping up with all of my blogs, my married woman has been fired due to lack of production and poor work ethic. Maybe I forgot to mention she works with me. I wonder if I should invite her over to “console” her. It’s probably best to just let her fade away. I found out her husband works for the military doing some sort of secret stuff in some secret place. The last thing I need is to have him sneak into my house, ninja style, and Ginsu my wiener or something.

(UPDATE: Turns out her husband was in jail.)

Good news! I got my “new” couch yesterday. Thanks again to the “Fabulous Amy Donohue” for turning me on to craigslist. This thing is 10 times better than eBay in my opinion. On ebay, people list their items for  more than what you can buy it for online, then try to rip you off on the shipping fees. On craigslist, it’s like these people are all getting evicted and need money so bad, they just give crap away. “NEED WEED… MUST SELL DINETTE SET ASAP!”

The sorta bad news is I kinda put a tear in the new couch trying to get it into my apartment by myself. Stupid neighbors all stood around and watched me struggle, and didn’t even offer to help. Oh well… poop happens. The exciting news is I think I’m in love with the girl who bought my “old” couch. She’s quite the peach, the bee’s knees, and the cat’s meow all in one. Kinda like a cat, bee, peach burrito. Anyway if things go my way, I still may be able to get some use out of my old couch (if you know what I mean… wink wink nudge nudge).

Finally, here’s the update on my “Quest for Health”. I’m starting to lose confidence in my trainer guy. Although I’m sore (which is supposedly a sign of progress), my trainer doesn’t know how to spell bicycle or bicep. And that worries me. I’m embarrassed to even write how he spelled them: Bicecycle and bicept. I don’t think I’d care if he couldn’t spell microprocessor or something, but he’s a personal trainer. Bicycle and bicep?!?! C’mon!!

He also took my measurements and fat callipered me and told me my body mass consists of 75 percent fat. I know I’m a little chubby but I don’t think that’s even humanly possible unless of course I was half Pima Indian and half Tub of Crisco. When I questioned him about it, just said, “Dat’s what da computa say.” Well the computer also say that I should have 12 tablespoons of cream cheese and 5 cups of alfalfa sprouts as one of my meals. Of course he didn’t think there was anything wrong with that either since “da computa say it”. I couldn’t let that one slide by so I protested and forced him to change my diet plan to cottage cheese and a different vegetable with a bit more mass. Otherwise, I’d have to buy 70 packages of sprouts per week in order to meet my 35 cup requirement.

Anyway, other than the fact that my muscle-bound friend may be slightly illiterate, and could lack a little common sense, I think things are going ok. It’s hard to tell, because I’m not really losing any weight. They tell you that bullshit about how muscle weighs more than fat, but I think that’s a scam to keep you paying those gym dues. Meanwhile, there’s thousands of chunky butts out there using that line to explain to their friends why they haven’t lost any weight after a month at the gym. And you can bet your ass I’m going to be one of those people.

That’s all for me. Have a great weekend!

Why go for the married chick?  Not that I’m against it… is it the challenge???

Dear Fan,

It’s simple really.  Single women aren’t dissatisfied with their husbands because they don’t have husbands.  Single women still don’t know the reality of men and marriage.  They’re still out there looking for Mr. Frosted Spiky Hair with the great abs, tan skin, nice car, good job, and oh yeah… “he has to have a really great sense of humor and make me laugh”.

*KNOCK KNOCK* Reality calling… that guy doesn’t exist outside of your television.

Married women have actually figured this out albeit a few years and a few kids too late.  Now they’re stuck in unhappy marriages to guys who aren’t attentive to their needs, guys who cheat, guys who care more about drinking than spending time with their kids, guys who were considered “quite the catch” back in their hey days.  The nice guys, of course, finished last.

So, no, it’s not the challenge of trying to lure a woman away from their spouse.  In fact, it’s quite the opposite.  It’s the women who usually reveal that they are unhappy and feeling emotionally and sexually neglected.  And they gravitate toward men who are willing to listen and pay attention to them.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t prey on unhappily married women.   I just think there’s someone for everyone.  But what if my someone got married already?  Shit, what if my someone lives in Nigeria?  Then I’m really screwed!  The good news is, there are probably multiple someones for everyone, so even if the first someone doesn’t work out, you can still find another someone.  Some people are lucky enough to have multiple someones at the same time.  Me?  I’m not that good.

The bottom line is, I owe it to myself to seek out my own happiness.  As long as I’m not trying to destroy a functioning relationship, and not using someone for sex or money, am I really doing anything wrong? Yeah I guess there’s that whole “thou shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife” thing but I think the weight of the moral dilemma lies mostly on the woman.  But that’s a whole other story.

There you have it, my complete justification of pursuing a married woman.  I’ll save a seat for you all in hell.

Complaint of the Day:  Glamour Shots

“Ok now tilt your head… a little more… more… great, that looks uncomfortable enough.  Now smile like you’re eating poop.  Great! Now move the feather boa away from your cheek just a little bit… PERFECT!”

*click*

Would someone please explain to me why anyone would ever want a glamour shot?!?!  I’ve always considered the glamour to be the NASCAR of photography; only appreciated by Jesus loving Mullet Amurricans who live in homes with wheels.  Those of you who have mullets or wheelie homes, please save your whining… this is my blog, so deal with it.  And before you start busting my hump, the picture on my website is NOT a glamour shot, it’s a head shot (not to be confused with a facial).  Bottom line… glamour shots are bad mmmkay.

OK, moving on…  Now I need a little advice.  If you ask a woman if she’s married and she says “sorta”, does that make her available?  I’m sure anyone in their right mind would probably see trouble written all over this situation and advise me to keep my 10 foot pole far far away, but I really don’t want to hear from those people.  I want to hear from the people who think it’s perfectly acceptable to get involved with a married woman.  Besides, don’t all long-lasting relationships always start out by breaking up a marriage?  Feel free to comment with your advice.

Last order of business… I’m getting fat.  Ok, that’s not true.  I’m already fat.  My clothes are tighter, my face is rounder, and my man boobs are fuller.  Wait, maybe I’m pregnant!  Right now I’m just under the weight limit for the semi affordable treadmills I’m considering buying.  Once I hit 250lbs, I think the conveyor belt won’t even spin when I stand on it.

I don’t know when it happened but at some point in my life, the term “going out to play” turned into the word “exercise”.  It’s been a battle of the belly ever since.  All I know is I need to get busy soon if I expect to score with this married chick.

I’m thinking of starting some sort of fitnessy, journaly, updatey, thingy with my bloggy thingy.  I’m not really sure how publicizing my progress is supposed to motivate me.  Maybe I can do it to motivate others.  I bet there are a few chunky butts who read this blog who could be inspired by my hard work and dedication.