mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Even the government thinks I'm fat! Today was depressing enough! Not depressing as in, "Ugh! I have depression." Not even depressing as in, "Ugh! How gloomy. It's been raining for 2 days straight." That's not really depressing. I love the rain. And mud puddles. But mostly rain. Nope. Today was depressing in a different way. Today was depressing as in, "You are 30lbs. over the weight limit to join the Air Force." It's official, folks. I'm a certified porker. I'm a fattie. I'm Fatty McChubs, the mayor of Tubbyville. If you had to pick an object that better resembles me, I'd be closer to the bowling ball and less like the broom stick. I'm more like Bill Clinton and less like Russell Crowe. So, I need to get my weight down to 179. Any ideas? Maybe I should join some of those Pro-Anna sites. I know that's wrong and all. But 30 lbs? Sheesh. But on a lighter note... I went and took a practice ASVAB test today at the recruiter's office. In case you aren't militarily inclined, that is the test that determines if you are dumb enough to be sent into battle (ie. if the sight of guns pointed at your head doesn't faze you), or smart enough to be behind the scenes. If I get high enough on the test, I gain status known as "Exceptionally Well Qualified." It's also called EWQ. Whatevery that means. (HAHAHA I love that joke! Wooooo! Boy, that one never gets old, eh?) To be EWQ, you have to make a 90 or above. A score of 99 is perfect. I made a 96 today. The guy said that if I do so well on the real ASVAB, I can basically have any job I want. And they will overlook my Fat Bastard like belly. Tomorrow is Hell Day. And I have found something that the horribly annoying Laughing Chick does that is much more annoying than laughing. If you are new -- or didn't catch the last time I wrote about this girl -- she laughs. Not just at jokes, but at EVERYTHING. I seriously think the girl has Tourette's. Anyway, so she likes Pepsi. A whole helluva lot. And, since she can't make any laughing noises while drinking her Pepsi, she makes even more annoying sounds. *Gulp* *Gulp* *Gulp* Laughing Girl goes as she downs mouthfulls of Pepsi. But what's that? There are a few drops of Pepsi on the lid of the can? *sluuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrp* pause *sluuuurp slurrrrrp sluuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrp* Annoying Laughing Girl sucks some of the aluminum off of the can. This doesn't even go into when she drinks all of the Pepsi in the can. Her whole body goes verticle, getting every last drop out of that can. Those slurps get loud, man! At least she's frugal. I'll give her that. Well, I am out of things to talk about. I made it through yet another round of Diary Survivor. We are having another Tribal Counsel in the next two days. My problem? I don't know who to vote for. I pretty much like everyone left. I've actually found some read decent people through the game. My boy Mike. I think that's his name. He's a dirty Jap. Canadian Jap at that. Infiltration from the inside. (I just won't tell him that he is in the wrong country. The fall of Canada won't really hurt the US all that much...) Maybe I'll vote his Japanese ass off. Maybe not, though. He's having a party in July I want to attend. Hot chick band and all. Crap. It's late. Hell day is tomorrow. 10:43 p.m. - Mon., April 8, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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