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I am literally a big block of cheese.

Let’s talk about my hot doctor, Eduardo. Or, more importantly, let’s talk about me. At this point I am basically a big block of bacon flavored cheddar cheese. I weigh 256 pounds, my blood pressure is normal but I just got back from seeing Hot Eduardo and my cholesterol is so high that they can not get a reading on my LDL because my triglycerides are so high.

I mean, if it were earlier in the 16th(?) century, I would totally be Peter Paul Rubens’ queen because my ass is enormous, I am curvy, I have curly hair and thin feet. I look like a cherub when nekkid.

But yet?

Let’s look at the figures shall we?

My cholesterol numbers are such: triglycerides 464; CDL 35.

I am literally a big block of cheese.

Hot Eduardo is Argentinean, he loves the cows. He thinks that they are cute and loves to eat them. He is a carnivore to the nth degree. He is thin, he rides a frillion miles a week on his bike, and did I mention that he is hot? He is always trying to justify my weight… I think because I am the cute, happy, fat girl. Today? The quote was, “Did you know there was a study done and there is a lower percentage of suicides among people who are chubby?”

So cute isn’t he? Oh, and hot.

So I replied. “Yes, that is because we eat what we want; we do not deny our cravings.” He goes, “Exactly!” And then he looked at my chart and actually looked sad. It broke my little clogged heart that he looked so sad.

This is where it starts to suck.

He told me about my cholesterol and asked me if I wanted medicine for it. Since I am trying to detoxify* my body I said, “No thank you.”

*And you say… “But Susan? What about the smoking and the drinking?” and I reply, “Kindly shut up, please.”

So he said, “Ok, you have to go vegetarian.”

And then the world stopped.

The fresh, refrigerated, vacuum sealed packages of cheese curds, havarti and mozzarella cheese that I have yet to touch from my trip to Green Bay flashed before me in a millisecond.

“Vegetarian means no dairy, right?”

“Right.”

I think I may have fainted.

Hot Eduardo: You can have all the fish and tofu that you want.
Self: Oh. Yay.
Hot Eduardo: But no dairy.
Self: No bacon either, right?
Hot Eduardo: Noooooooooo bacon.
Self: And no eggs?
Hot Eduardo: No eggs.
Self: So… what do you people eat for breakfast?
Hot Eduardo: Heh, “you people.”
Self: Seriously.
Hot Eduardo: Oh, you can have oatmeal.
Self: No. Slimy.
Hot Eduardo: ...
Self: Seriously. Can I have cream of rice?
Hot Eduardo: Sure, sure…
Self: But I have to cook it with water?
Hot Eduardo: Yes, unless you want to…
Self: What about soy milk?
Hot Eduardo: Oh!… [eyes brightening] Soy milk is good for you!
Self: Oh, thank God.

Eduardo is fit, he is thin (and hot) and his cholesterol was as high as mine was even though he is a decathlon type of guy with the priorities and shit. So he has been vegetarian for six months and is relating to is as such, “Oy, and they say alcoholics have it bad… feh.”

So. It has been decided. I will be a veggie lite (what with the fish and sushi that I can eat). Oh, did I tell y’all that I have to stay away from shellfish too? Gah. Basically nothing with a face, except fish.

I am not really a meat eater in the first place, but dammit, you take away bacon and dairy? What did I ever do to you? Although I probably would eat anything if it tasted good. People? Mmmm… good. Dolphins? MMMMM… good.

I have no moral qualms about eating something just because it has a face. Or something that is smart. If I had an issue with eating smart things… where would I find retarded cows or slightly unhinged sea bass? Okay, this tangent will get me nowhere.

Hate.

So, the good news. Y’all know that the Kerr Krew weekend is coming up, no? Yes. I am very excited. There are rumors and emails flying back and forth about the photo albums and the mix tapes that some are bringing.

And this past weekend? Mister and I went to the wedding of J.Wo and Dave. J.Wo is now J.Ho and I am so excited for them.

We had the best time over the weekend. We stayed with old friends, ate, drank, went to bars, did karaoke, danced, sweated, laughed our asses off and stayed up until past three in the a.m. both Friday and Saturday nights. It was fantastic. There was also an cause for the definition of “What is a donkey punch**?” to be discussed.

**Nothing to see here Googlers.

More later. I need to go smell cheese one last time. Mourn for me.

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