We all know how annoying some people can get when they see pictures of themselves, or hear their recorded voices played back.
"Is that what I look like," they'll gasp. "Omygawd, do I really sound like that?"
Irritating as hell.
So I almost feel bad about saying ... Damn! Do I look like Chewbacca on a bicycle, or what?
Maybe I should make sure I'm photographed only when riding the fat Pugsley. It might make me look a beer or two thinner.
Maura sent me an e-mail last night asking if I intended to do the Frosty Bottom 50. I told her I was tempted. A little while later, I stepped on a scale and found out I've already gained six pounds this winter. And it's only the first week of December.
I think I'll do the 50-mile race, even if it turns into a death march for me (and it probably will). It's time to start suffering for my sins of consumption.
As soon as I finish this bottle of wine, I'm cracking down and gettin' back in shape.
I mean it this time.
Oh, shut the hell up.