I had a 5 day weekend due to a sports* injury (lmao) which meant I spent a lot of time laid up, cheefin’. Apparently, it was enough to stay with me because according to my co-worker, I look a little baked. Whatever. I haven’t been to the gym in almost 2 weeks. I feel horrible about that. And I just went in on a small bowl of creamy tomato soup, shoutouts to Giant, and some tuna fish so my stomach has a shape I haven’t seen in a while. Do. Not. Approoooove. Health insurance is a joke and a scam and I’m pretty sure most men, if they take it upon themselves to maintain a healthy lifestyle, could get by without it. That’s part of the reason why I’ve turn into a quasi-gym rat and wanna-be health nut. I consumed a retarded amount of pasta at this mini retirement dinner a woman hosted in honor of my mother. My farts are Classico scented and it’s going to take another few days to flush my system completely, but it was worth every chew, grunt, groan and swallow. It took me almost 30 years to appreciate a good crock pot and coffee maker. Dead serious. Steel cut oats and a slow cooker go together like Rae and Ghost BONG.

*= dancing is a sport in some cultures