Saturday, May 26, 2012

Lard Ass My Butt

Okay, here's something I'm not proud of.

Oh, then there's something I really am proud of.

Once upon a time, back when I was still gainfully employed, I had to give a Comair regional jet a delay time from "Flow Control" as they were taxiing out for their flight to CVG (the Cincinnati International airport that's not even in Cincy OR the great state of Ohio).

Me: "Comair 2831, Memphis Ground."


"Ground, this is Comair 2831, go ahead."


Me: "Comair 2831, I have good news and bad news to tell you. Which do you want to hear first?"


"Ground Control, go ahead and give us the bad news first."


Me: "Comair 2831, time now 2-2-3-0 Zulu, expect a 3-0 minute delay with a *wheels up* time of 2-3-0-0 Zulu."


"Geez, Ground, that's horrible. We'll just pull off to the right here and hold short of Taxiway Mike Nine."


Me: "Comair 2831, that's approved."


"Hey Memphis Ground, Comair 2831?"


Me: "Comair 2831, Memphis Ground. Go ahead."


"Um, yeah Ground.........what's the good news?"


Me: "The good news is I'm a very handsome man."


Female Co-pilot: "Can I get your phone number?"


Me: "I'm sorry ma'am but today's my anniversary, and my wife is going to be your Departure Controller."


Female co-pilot:: "Damn, this day just keeps getting worse."


Me: "Roger. Monitor tower on frequency 1-2-8 point 4-2."


I told you that story to tell you this one.

The bad news is that by this Winter past, I reached an all time high in pounds. I wasn't tipping the scales, I was busting them to tiny pieces.

If not for something Christine told me, I might have already stroked out.


She told me about the Weight Watchers *point system* diet. Being a complete knucklehead (pronounced "Walker"), I had to modify it immediately. Nothing says, "Don't mess success, you idiot!!!!" like getting in touch with your inner moron (pronounced "Walker"), messing with it and "Walkerfying" it.


Damned if it isn't working in spite of my best efforts. 


I basically just cut down all my portions in half.

The results?

The good news.


Damn! How did that get on this blog?

Like Otto says, "Once you see it, you can't unsee it."

My bad.

Here. Feast your eyes on this.


Size 46 shorts, that were too tight last year.

My 2x bathing suit is so baggy it darn near fell off me with just the weight of my key chain at the pool today.

Thirty pounds..........gone.

Thirty more to go.

It feels good to feel good again.

Oh.......the belt?  It's on it's last notch.

I'm not determined.

I'm pissed.

Anyone who knows me, knows "pissed" means I'm going to get my way and I'm going to do it my way.

But the credit goes to the lovely Miss Christine.

She's the best.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

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