I'll Say Goodbye To Love ...

Dang it.

The doctor just called and said he'd like to speak with me about my cholesterol levels. I fear this means the end of my love affair with bacon. Sweet, sweet, bacon.

For some reason, I've always wanted to stay under 200 lbs. It's an arbitrary weight, I realize, but it's a nice round number (ha!), and slightly under that seems okay for me. I've often flirted with 200 lbs (and occasionally done more than flirt - and believe me, staying under 200 lbs isn't always a good thing! Thank you! Thank you! I'll be here all week!), but have managed to avoid going over. So during the pre-fight weigh-in last week at the doctor:

Nurse (asking me to get on the scale): Okay ... 201.

Me: Umm, well, these jeans and shoes weigh at least a couple of pounds. I'd say 199.

Nurse: Well, I have to put down what the scale indicates.

Me: Oh. Well, let's see. I think the Colt .45 in my sock weighs at LEAST two pounds. ONE. NINETY. NINE.

Nurse: Y-y-yessir.


Tom Waits - Heart Attack And Vine (I thought about going with something by The Strokes for some cholesterol-related music, but TW wins out.)