Let this picture serve as a warning – Never ask me to check on your cat while you’re out of town – Because if I have to use my lunch break to scrape cat shit out of a litter box, I’m going to leave a floater.
My buddy’s lucky I didn’t Top Shelf his ass. In the South this is also known as an Upper Deck.
I was down to 186 lbs. this morning. That’s after reaching a high weight of 198 this summer (the best time to be your fattest). But I still have more than 20 pounds to go. I mean, me losing 12 pounds is hard to notice. Think of trying to find Crowe Dog in a crowded gay bar.
Some of it may just be water weight, though. Sunday night I slept under a heavy comforter, and woke up sweating like Anne Heche eating a corn dog.
On a morning from a Bogart movie.