I have now lost 35 pounds (This Year)

The CEO asked me to stop over at her luxury two-story condo high on top of a large under-development building in a major Northern West Virginia City. It was the converted top stories of an old department store on the City’s main drag, majestically overlooking the Ohio River. The roof had a tennis court, a basketball court, gardens, a bar, swimming pool and so forth.

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Random Rooftop Shot

She was dressed in a bikini. For a woman of about 50 (29 according to her), her body was amazing.

“So, Botendaddy, you are looking slimmer and trimmer. You are beautiful, charming, del.icio.us ™®© (I always hated that bogus URL but I thought I would bring it back to allow the hate to flow). What is that idiotic chart you have? Show me. You know I love mindless reports and charts prepared by idiot underlings.”

I noticed that she had removed her bikini top, revealing two remarkably firm breasts with disturbingly erect nipples. Her butler (*gay* *hot*) did not bat an eyelash at her near-nakedness. He did roll his eyes just a little.

“I have lost now 35 pounds this year alone, 39 since last year, a total of 12.5% or 1/8th of my body-weight (not counting the four pounds from last year). But, I have a few tidbits of wisdom for you. BMI. Ah yes BMI. Is it right or wrong? Good or evil. Here goes, CEO-lady: Botendaddy is 6’2-1/2″ tall; no more no less. Men lie about their height (and other things), so they think I am taller than I really am.”

I opened my archaic flip-chart binder.

“So at my height, here it is:”

150-199 ‘Good’ Weight. Waist Size: 25-34 inches. Pardon, 150? At my height? Maybe a 14 year-old basketball player or a Somali warrior, 150? WTF? I could run a 5:45 mile at 150, I could do a revolutionary memorial slam dunk with two hands at 150. 150? Let alone 199! At 199, I guarantee you a 6:30 mile.

“I can’t see you at 199 Botendaddy. You would lose that tasty, del.icio.us, sweaty, stinky muscle.”

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Large Cactus

The Butler winked at me and licked his lips. The CEO glared at him and he threw his head back, sighed and walked away with the tray to get more martinis.

200-229 ‘Overweight’. Waist Size 34-38.5 inches. OK, seems like a pretty reasonable weight. Seems somewhat healthy. Overweight? At 229 that is 16 more pounds I have to lose one shitty stone. My real goal is 218. I am pretty thin at 218. Really thin. I guarantee a 7:55 mile at 229. I’m already at an 8:48 at 245.

“Hmm, I can’t even see you in that range sexy, red-hot, malodorous, hairy Botendaddy. Well, maybe at 225.”

229-269 ‘Obese-lower half’. Waist size 39-46 inches. I split Obese into two halves. This is the cutoff for the Air Force to stay in, waist size must be 39″ or under. OK, maybe a 40″ plus waist is not long-term healthy. But some people have lower body-fat than others. A 270 pound NFL tight end might have a 38 inch waist. In most of this weight zone, I met the Army Body-fat standard and I easily passed my physical fitness tests, including the savage two-mile run. Probably not good for the knees to run in this weight zone, though.

“You are right in the middle of that zone right now. Very strange, Dear hideous, frightening, mysterious, adjective-inducing Botendaddy.”

269-309 ‘Obese-upper half’. Waist size 46-53.5 inches. This may be fairly overweight. How long will you live? I know that there are not many 70-years-olds who are this tall and this heavy, fat, obese, overweight… I get it. I wouldn’t mind living to 70 or 60 or 55, maybe… Not a good running weight over 269, risk of knee, hip injury, heart attack.

“OK, that is getting up there, Botendaddy like you used to be, you shitty, hideous, monstrous, foul Franken-beast.”

She sipped her martini and looked me up and down. I realized that she had now undone her bikini bottom and let it fall to her ankles.

“Ah, you may feel a draft, CEO. Do you really shave that smelly, reeking, aromatic, sweaty thing? Doesn’t it get itchy?” I offered.

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Cooperstown, Botendaddy’s Hometown

309-600 ‘Extremely Obese’. Yeah, you’ve got a problem. See a Doctor, start a diet, do it slowly and be patient. Diets only seem to work if you do them over a long time-frame.

“Hmm, I’m getting bored with you Botendaddy. If you really want me to sponsor ‘Race Team 2000’ You’ve got to pay the piper. You boinked that mentally deranged punk-model-writer chick with your massiveness. Poor girl is now sticky, slimy, deflowered and will be scarred for life. You defiled that psycho-hose-beast-pompous-blue-blood librarian chick with your enormity. She will never leave you alone now, she will need years of therapy. You drilled that crazy stalker chick with your gigantic-ness, leaving her dripping from every sensitive area with your demonic man-juice. You’ll never get rid of her, she is probably stabbing your voodoo doll with pins. And the Ramon situtation…appalling…del.icio.us.”

The Butler winked at me when she mentioned Ramon.

“OK, CEO lady, I may have taken advantage of a few of my female party guests…”

600-??? ‘Not categorized.’ No comment on this one.

Insurance Recommended Weight Charts – Medium frame 164-178 pounds. Waist size 28-32 inches. WTF? at 6’2″, really?

“Botendaddy. Shut your dirty, filthy mouth. Make love to me now and make it good fat-boy. I can’t just have any man, they are beneath me. I need an incorrigible, hulking, foul-smelling, lowlife New York Literati he-beast like you. I want feel sticky, slimy, violated, dirty…”

I realized that I was now also completely naked. I could feel the breeze on the rooftop. The Butler was smiling at my titanic, turgid, enormity. He was holding all of my clothes and yea, sniffing them with erotic ecstasy. I became light-headed and I looked into the martini glass.

“Did you Roofie me? Did you Viagra-cize me, you crazy bi$#%? What was in this drink?”

“What are you going to do fatty?” She chided. “Are you man enough for me? Do you want this boddee? Do you want this boddee? Are you man enough to take it? To defile me with your red-hot, foul-tasting, precious bodily fluids? To leave me soiled, dirty and degraded? You slobbering tub of filth. You dirty, smelly Yeti…”

I had now lost all inhibition. I manfully snatched up the fully nude, sunscreen-coated CEO. I carried her into the hot-tub, but somehow she held onto her martini and her sunglasses incongruously stayed on her face. I began to…

“Oh Botendaddy! I love you against all reason! I am madly, passionately, romantically in love with you! I am yours forever!” She shrieked.

“OH BOTENDADDY!”

{CENSORED: WEST VIRGINIA DEPARTMENT OF GEOLOGY AND SURFACE MINING FOR EXTREME OFFENSIVE PRURIENT CONTENT, PER WVA REG. 600-571(a)1, PROMULGATED 17 SEPTEMBER 1931}

 

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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