"Speedy Cat"

Give you my desire. Splendid like a fire. Speedy Cat!

Those are the words I hear from the people down at the gym every time I walk in. Why? Because I am the fastest mother fucker alive!

I don't know where I'm going with this, but my farts smell like pepperoni from Domino's and I really hate myself for ordering it last night. Or do I? I probably wouldn't have gone to the gym today had it not been for that pizza; a pizza that kept me up in writhing pain all throughout the night. And not just physical pain, but also mental. I felt like such an asshole the entire night as I sat there watching American Pie: Band Camp, or whatever the fuck that shitty movie is called. But, and this may be a misuse of the phrase, "no pain, gain." Weight gain, that is. And then it's followed by the will to actually do something about said weight gain.

I'm gonna go do my laundry and then take a shower. Holy shit; I'm being productive.

Update (to something I haven't posted yet): A sudden bout of depression has come over me. There go those endorphins. Poop.