Howdy kids! Long time no communicate, mea culpa.
MJE has been laser focused on a rigorous path to self-improvement. Better diet, more exercise, no booze… Hell no, why would I go to all that effort and deprivation when the answer is so much simpler… google angie’s list of people who best wield a scalpel near you and get on the fast track to retooling your image. Hey don’t get all judgy here… In the immortal words of pete buggaditch, or buglevitch or bluedesitch or whatever his name is, in his slap down of our self-righteous witewalker vp for his retrograde attitude about homosexuality, “You got a problem with me? Your quarrel, sir, is with my creator.” Ain’t nothing better than seeing someone who’s always shoving god in your face to watch him get shoved back.
While we are on the subject of the creator’s (or for those with a rational fact-based mentality, that would be called natural selection) creations, there must be a reason plastic surgeons are here or they wouldn’t be. And who would dump on one of the creator’s best ideas ever? Not MJE for sure. I am as open minded as it gets when it comes to medicine. Except for quack shit like gulping down turmeric until you’re the color of an oompa loompa as a remedy for a bad hip or sipping an arsenic/cocaine cocktail to cure the clap, or having some machine keep you alive when you are 95% dead and 100% old. I believe there should be space in everyone’s medicine cabinet for at least one bottle of snake oil , well not mine because it is jammed full of overpriced cosmetics and other shit that amazon enticed me to buy.
So the crux of my “problem” was a fact pointed out to me by my overly conscientious doc after my physical. Despite being the right weight for my age and height I needed to lose 10 lbs of fat and gain 12 lbs of muscle. I have no idea how that would or could be physically possible and neither did my erstwhile trainer. He told me it would most likely never happen even with hours on the treadmill and bench pressing twice my body weight and btw it would take months if not years. Fuck that, I figured I could accomplish a large part of my goal dead asleep on a gurney in 2 hours, three max. No muss, no fuss. Good bye bluto, hello olive oyl.
However, just like that first innocent toke inevitably plants you on the top of the infamous slippery slope, your first brush with the man with the magic wand is never enough. Ya gotta have more. And before you know it you have the chest of dolly parton and the face of joan rivers.
my jaundiced eye 