Kiss me, I'm Bulemic

2 weeks ago, Nyla and I began one of those trendy "eat-all-the-bloody-meat-you-can-and-lose-big-weight" diets. I lost eight pounds and she lost six. Min said, "Are you crazy? Starch is all I eat." I guess some of us aren't blessed with such a killer metabolism. The diet itself was a good thought.
While it lasted. A few days back, our cravings beyond our control, we went to a Leona's and gorged on crusty pizza. They make quite a crust at Leona's, buttery and cornmeal-laden. 3 days later, I am 4 pounds heavier. In two months I turn 33 and I'm all of a sudden paying attention to these things like some 17 year-old cheerleader. Nyla texts me, "Y R U such a big GIRL?!?!?!?!"
Today is our 6-month anniversary, speaking of paying attention to girly things. Clinging to the last fibres of my boy-cred, she is kinda cheesed that I won't do anything with her this Sunday until after the Stillers game.
Fuggeddaboudit, We're going to the Red Lion and get some Beer and Sex and Chips and Gravy.