Someone told me it’s all happening…

It’s unofficially Fall–the subways are packed, people have returned from vacation and the mornings are cool.

The good news in Crankyville is that my weight has not gone up (or down).  I didn’t stay for much of the meeting–the leader had some moron exercise that she wanted us to do and I say nononono to moronicity.  Nothing could be as bad as a few weeks ago.  At that time, some imbecilic cow started talking about her week:  “I lost TWO pounds this week.  And it’s really great because I ate ice cream EVERY  NIGHT!  Isn’t that great?  Every night!  I ate ice cream and lost weight.  Now I’m going to eat ice cream EVERY week.  I LOVE W3ight Watch3rs!”

This went on for several minutes.  This is where things got difficult for me.  I felt like the Jack Nicholson character in the Shining.  You know, the crazy guy.  He says: “I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m just gonna bash your brains in. I’m gonna bash ‘em right the f–k in.”

Because that week I had run 20 miles.  I had not had ice cream even once and I had gained a half a pound. I can tell you all the reasons that some sedentary 250ish lb donkey can lose weight and eat ice cream and I can exercise and count points and not lose anything.  I can be rational.  But I didn’t FEEL rational.

I wanted to raise my hand and say, “I’m SO happy about the gun control laws. Because if I had a carry permit, I would spray your stupid brains all over the wall and spend the rest of my life in jail, you STUPID PATHETIC COW!”

There should be a rule: No gloating at the deprived people.  It’s like jumping into the bear cage at the zoo.

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