Weight Loss Journey


I sat at the base of the Washington Monument. I leaned back to look up at its grandeur.

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The Monument

 

The librarian sat down next to me. She was wearing an American-flag-style skin-tight bicycle-slash-running suit. She had a D.C. flag Bandanna in her hair. We both stared out across the mall towards the Lincoln Memorial. It was a beautiful late-winter day.

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The National Mall

 

“So you’re really going to try to do it this time, eh fat-boy? You big sexy. You lumbering disgusting oaf. You know there’s thousands of people here on the mall. I want you to make love to me right here, right now in front of all of these ridiculous tourists. I want you to drool and slobber and sweat all over me. Make me feel dirty.”

“Are you quite insane? How the heck did you even find me? I drove 250 miles on a whim. I parked in Arlington. I took the Metro ™. No-one could have possibly followed me or even known that I could have been anywhere… let alone here.”

“Oh delicious, sumptuous Botendaddy, there are not enough unnecessary adjectives, (the province of all bad writers I must point out) to describe your allure. Look at how perfect my body is, look at my beauty. How could you resist this, you filthy monstrous Neanderthal. You ugly, macabre missing link. How do you propose to do this weight loss venture?”

“Well Miss Librarian-girl, I got an App!”

“Ooh an App! You’re so original! It’s only 2016! Why don’t you just check the sites of your readers who have their own blogs (From ‘weblog’ ca 1995)? They have wonderful advice on weight-loss. But you’re too lazy and self-involved. It’s windy up here. I’m getting cold.”

I put my zippered 1910s “Chariots of Fire” ™®© style 100% cotton hooded sweatshirt around her shoulders. She pulled it close to her, shut her eyes dramatically and sniffed it in a very creepy fashion and to top it off, she shuddered in 18th Century Romantic American ecstasy. I had to distract her quickly.

“I am going to try the UnderArmor™ “myfitnesspal”™ app. It has the same look and feel as ‘MapMyRun.’ ™. The old notebook is useless anymore. I never look at it.”

“Why don’t you take a gander at these babies, fatty?”

She said, inappropriately opening her sweatshirt, after having surreptitiously opened her bicycle shirt, revealing the firmest, zestiest pair of ‘tetones’ I have ever seen.

“Stop that! I’m trying to get intimate here! Someone’s going to see you! You see, the App lets you record what foods you ate without having to look up the calories.. it does it for you! It lets you enter your weight and your goal weight, pounds to lose per week and then it recommends a calorie count. It also tracks your step, which is creepy and intrusive, kind of like you.”

“You know, Botendaddy. I was an important person. I’m from a D.A.R. New England family. I was born in D.C. I bleed red, white and blue, you shitty Bolshevik. I graduated from Ivy League schools. I was an Air Force Officer. I archived ancient manuscripts in Baghdad during the War. I could have been somebody. I started out here in D.C. working for a major Federal Agency. But you wouldn’t know about the concept of service. You thought the Army was some kind of joke where you rear-ended everyone else for fun. Shameful! Your military career was so slothful you could be accused of theft of government services by virtue of doing nothing. You set a world record for most hours spent ‘racking out’ during combat operations (*hot*). What was your idea of combat… putting the enemy to sleep with hypnosis through excessive boredom? Now I’m sitting here with you. Lots of men wanted me. Important men, powerful men, good-looking men, macho Milanese male fashion models. Now I’ve hit rock-bottom. I’m sitting here with you instead. Somebody loved you once. It must have been torture for her. She should have been Sainted – and I’m an Episcopalian!”

 

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Where the Librarian was an Archivist

 

Some Myanmarese tourists snapped photos of us. A family of Guinea-Bissau-ians posed with us for more shots, waving little American flags and giving peace-signs.

“Well at any rate, the only thing that ever worked for me was counting calories. If I can do that and stick to it, I think I’ll be OK. I am planning on tracking my run times for 1 and 2 miles and see if there is a commensurate drop in times as I lose weight. And yes, I will look at the sites of my beautiful, wonderful, athletic, attractive, kind, *hot*, lovely, helpful, adjective-eliciting readers. My goal is to lose 4 more ‘stone’ ™, by December 31. I will keep my readers informed of my progress with every post.”

“Botendaddy? Will you walk the mall with me? I always have to walk it alone. Look at all these happy, playful, snuggling couples. Why should I have to be all alone in our nation’s Capitol? Don’t I deserve some happiness too? Besides, I need your bloated corpse as a wind-breaker.”

Peace be the Botendaddy

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About Botendaddy

Three times voted extreme sexiest man alive...by acclamation. I run because I must...I must!
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