I hate all of you now.

You may have had zero to do with this, but all of you let this happen.

Let me tell you a story about a man named Billy Tubbs.

Mr. Tubbs was a basketball coach at Oklahoma in the 1980's and a total badass.

During one game, his team scored 97 points in the first half of a fucking game, and then went on to win 173-101. When some reporter had the balls to accuse him of running up the score in a college basketball game, you know what this dude said?

"If they don't like it, they should GET BETTER."

Boom. End of story.

Now I have to hear about shit like this:



This poor goddamn kid has enough to worry about with a name like Demias Jimerson, and now you're going to let this kid play the game he loves to the best of his ability because we don't want to hurt anybody's feelings. Seriously, fuck all of you. I'm done with this.

I'm tired of this goddamn country being just okay. What happened to learning lessons through failure? What happened to getting up every time you fall? Now kids can't even do that because pussy parents don't let them fall. All they want to do is organize play dates and mold kids into little assholes.

And remember what Uncle Von D always says: If everybody is special, nobody is special, you fucking soft-headed moron.

Go shit in your hat,

Von D

Your Kid Doesn't Need Adderall, He Needs His Ass Kicked

An apology in advance:

This is going to sound a little preachy.

In my line of work, the required summer reading can be a little tedious. I just read something having to do with how we teach today's child, and what approaches successful teachers take in order to ensure that all of their students receive the same level of experience. Totally unfeasible and not realistic. Then they make me read this piece of garbage called "Boys Adrift: The Five Factors Driving the Growing Epidemic of Unmotivated Boys and Underachieving Young Men." Long title right? Well this is broken down into chapters that my idiot male mind can easily comprehend. Here are the factors for you.

1. The Change in Education Itself

2. Characteristics of Modern Life

3. Video games.

4. Medications

5. what this dipshit calls "The Revenge of the Forsaken Gods" aka boys aren't becoming men because they have no real men to look up to.

So instead of what I would usually do and go through these one by one, I will make kind of my blanket sentiment for all of these things. Ready? Here you go: Boys are pussies today because they are raised by pussies. Boys have no sense of responsibility because they have no consequences and no idea what duty is. I was sitting with my buddy Gregoire the other night and we were talking about this twitter personality he follows. We had some good laughs at the person's twitter handle "PeanutFreeMom" and I even laughed out loud at some of the purposefully passive-aggressive nonsense that this person was spewing. Here's an example:
 
Caleb's soccer game ended in a tie. Thank goodness. Self esteem is extremely important in his 'formative years'.

Now I know what funny is, and that's pretty funny, but in the back of my mind it occurred to me that I find this funny because I know these fucking people, and they are EVERYWHERE. As a teacher, I know this is the case. In my head, people have become so backwardly offensive that I am at my wits end. And I'm saying this because I know I'm going to have to go to work tomorrow and discuss this book with a bunch of bleeding heart teachers who, God bless them, really mean well but coddle this goddamn kids so much they never think they do anything wrong. There are differences between people, some are better at school, some are better at sports, some are meant for a life of white-collar crime, and some kids are just going to get arrested slipping a mickey into girls drinks at a bar. What I'm saying is what Judge Smails said in Caddyshack: "The world needs ditch diggers too." Get over it, you raised a shitty kid. Which brings me to my second point:

Video games are not the issue. Plain and simple. GIVING the kid a video game just because he wants it is the issue. Television is not the issue. LETTING your kid sit inside and watch hours of television is the problem. Laziness is only a problem when it's allowed. And I'm not saying to go the other way like some other parents, signing your kid up for so many commitments that he can't make a single one without being late or burned out. I'm all for rewarding children, but rewarding them because they earned it, not to shut them up.

Let me take a break for a second. I know what you're thinking right now: This is easy for you to say, you don't have any kids. Well let me tell you this, dear reader. As a high school teacher, adviser, and coach I spend more time with the kids than 70% of the parents do on a weekly basis. That's a goddamn fact. Do the math. If I see your kid from 7:30 am until 6:30 pm five days a week, that's a grand total of 55 hours. Say the kid gets home at 7:00, goes to bed at 10:00, then gets up at 7:00am, that's a whopping 17.5 hours you've spent with your kid. You got a lot of work to do if you want to catch up to me on the weekend. And no, I'm not exaggerating my hours here. Bottom line is this: buying your kids off so they don't complain to you is not parenting. Do a better job. Make your kids earn their money and whatever good things they want. They will be more resilient in the long run and be more appreciative for the things they have. Oh yeah, to hammer it home even further, there are at least two kids in my school's lower school (K-4) that have iPhones. Seen it with my own eyes.

Here's another question. Who is the last person you've seen on television that is incredibly wealthy, successful, well-adjusted, and has some sort of talent? More that 90% of the young people emulate absolute cunts who have endless amounts of money and fame just by being cunts. Why would a kid think he needs to work hard for anything? All they have to do is either binge drink, do a lot of drugs, get hit in the balls with something, have zero accountability for anything they do, and just repeat that until they are dead or nobody cares anymore. I have just given you a synopsis of every single goddamn thing MTV programming brings to the table.

I'm sorry again for getting on my high horse here, but this is something I'm passionate enough to care about. I literally see this every single day I'm around kids. We should all be ashamed of ourselves for letting things get this bad. And truth be told, I just needed to get this out of my system before the "book club" meeting tomorrow where I would have totally blown my stack at somebody who wanted to talk about plastic, the president, the economy, dodge ball, vaccinations, and whatever else they can blame their shitty kids on. Last thought: Kids today have an inflated sense of entitlement for one reason: They have nothing to be afraid of. When I was growing up, I was scared to death of my parents. I knew if I fucked up, my mother was going to let me know what I did wrong, and ask me how I was planning on righting my wrong. That, or my father was going to kick the shit out of me. I don't know what I was more scared of, but believe this: I was scared of something. I owed it to my parents to be the person they wanted me to be. In hindsight, they did everything for me, and I had a duty to my family to be the best person I could be. Last thing I ever wanted was for people to look at me and, because of my actions, take the piss out of my family, my school, my team, or my friends. I realized from a very young age that my actions had consequences, good and bad, and I had to own up to whichever came my way. I wasn't scared that I might die, I was scared of living with the wrong I did. And most of the time that is worse. Teach your fucking kids some accountability and let them fight their own battles, you morons.

Okay I'm done now, I got it out of my system.

Oh yeah, and I think this blog is as high and mighty as it is because I have grown an epic gunslinger mustache and am full of piss and vinegar lately.

You're all on notice,

Von D

RVonD Vs. Z-Day: An Action Plan

Things have been brought to my attention lately.

I have recently moved to Charlestown, MA. and live beneath my good friend Fantastic Dan. Along with being one of my best friends, Fantastic Dan also rules because he is OBSESSED with things like old-style tattoos and the end of the world. So, in between getting inked up, he is constantly devising ways to survive the end of the world, which to him, will occur on 12/12/12.

So, in the back of my mind, I've been thinking about what I would do should that happen. I mean, if the world explodes, I'm just gonna say "welp...shit" and die like the rest of yous. But, should something else happen, I need to be prepared. And yes, I'm talking about zombies here.

So I'd run through scenarios in my head, and to be honest, I think I have it down. My wife, Lady Von D has been made aware of the plan and she is on board. I thought I was ready, but now there is more urgency than before.

Today, C-zanne and her harem of gal pals made me aware of this new thing that is sweeping the nation: brain-eating amoebas that are taking over fresh water supplies in the South. The first thing that popped into my head: "This is how it starts. Z-Day is coming." How can you learn about brain eating organisms without thinking zombies? It's all too silver screen to ignore. Here is the article if you're interested:

http://www.wtsp.com/news/article/206352/250/Brain-eating-amoeba-rare-but-deadly-How-to-stay-safe

It's time to get ready homies. So let the D tell you how to get ready...


EQUIPMENT:

First and foremost, you're gonna have to get geared up. Now, if you're thinking where to get as many guns as you can, you're already up the undead creek. Trust me, you're wasting your time for the most part.

Fistly, if you watch enough movies, you automatically think everybody hits what they are aiming at all the time. I will tell you first hand that this is not the case. It is my guess that 90% of you could not hit the center of a paper target twenty yards in front of you. Bear in mind, this is taking your time, going through all the breathing techniques, proper trigger squeeze, correct sighting, etc. Now, let's make that target move quickly, and instill in you a huge sense of danger. Also mind you, if you are an inch right left up or down, you're going to miss completely at that distance. I'm not shitting you. More than that, this is also taking into consideration that you know how to load, sight, clean, and maintain firearms, which takes some sort of training. Basically if you have a handgun and think you're gonna run shit, you're not. Plain and simple.

However, true believer, there is a solution...and very recently a mass-produced solution.

Firstly, if you insist on having some sort of ranged weapon, go shotgun. You don't have to be insanely accurate, it's easy to load, and you just kinda hip shoot...the old spray and pray with the scattergun. Another reason I am weary of gunfire though should be pretty obvious: Noise. The last thing you want when dealing with ravenous undead are more ravenous undead. But if you're gonna use something to make a statement, make sure it looks like this:



(note the pistol grip for better handling and side ammo mount)

So what do you get first? How about two of these things?



Who said Bear Grylls was good for nothing? yes, for 30 bucks at Dick's Sporting Goods you can get one of those bad larrys and start hacking off limbs. Quick, quiet, and painful. If you're not convinced, here is this thing in action:



Oh yeah, and they don't mention in this video, but it comes with survival stuff with it, which could help you out in a pinch. I'm all over that.

WHERE TO GO:

Obviously, I'm staying out of major cities or other densely populated areas; that's a no-brainer. I mean, if it's not then you deserve to be eaten. But where do you go? Who do you go with? What do you bring with you?

Well, I don't know what the hell you're doing, but I'm taking my wife, and that's it. If you're traveling with more than 3 other people you're fucked. There's inevitably going to be somebody who slows you down and gets your throat ripped out, that's just numbers in my book. I haven't decided whether to take my dog and cat. More mouths to feed for little payoff aside from companionship. But where to go?

Unlike all of you, I already have this worked out. My boy Booski literally has a fortress in Hollis, NH that you can't see from the street. It's chalk full of weapons, tools, cars, power, and is walking distance from sustainable food like corn fields and such.

Speaking of that, if you think you're going to go stock up on canned goods and water and all that nonsense, I would mention that despite thoughts to the contrary, all that shit does have a shelf-life, and in order to get any kind of sustainability, you're going to have to start growing your own food. I look forward to eating ground vegetables and corn the rest of my life. Healthier that way right? If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die skinny right? So instead of going to walmart and supermarkets, I'm going to home depot and the library to get books on farming. Trust me, I'll last longer than you.

ONCE YOU'RE SETTLED IN:

If you've followed my plan and get yourself set up, what then? I think the natural tendency would be to move around and find other survivors. I'm not going to do that. I'll have my little group and we will procreate and procreate and procreate until I've raised my own army. By the time the food starts to get scarce, the kids will be old enough to learn how to take care of our little compound, more workers = more farmhands = more food. Simple math in my head. Oh yeah, and if you plan on showing up to my fortress, you better bring something to the table. Don't bring your sick and wounded buddy, 'cause I'm gonna sink a machete in the back of his head. We don't do useless in the camp.

The only thing I HAVEN'T settled on yet is a tribe name. I toyed with calling my people the Mandalorians or the Children of Mandalore. Yeah, a little nerdy to name your people after an obscure sect of the Star Wars mythology, but whatever. Pretty badass, but I'm not married to it or anything. And just so you all know, Boba Fett was a Mandalorian, so there.

So that's all I can think of for now, and just remember when you're huddled around a fire and some bard is singing songs of my exploits, just remember the shit's probably all true...except for the number of girls I made women out of. Multiply that by three to get a more accurate number. I can already tell they're going to get that wrong.

Anything else you wanna know, send comments and questions my way. I'll leave you with an artist rendition of my exploits as a zombie killer. More wine, ladies?

Wow, I'm finding some doozies today, boy.

The only thing this video is missing is some cats crushed under piles of VHS video tapes. Seriously, what toilet did this C.H.U.D. crawl out of?

Seriously, this will never get old for me...

This may be in the running for the worst movie ever, but this was pure movie gold. Seriously, gets me every single goddamn time.

GAHHHHHHH! KILL IT WITH FIRE!!

God knows I'm not the most PC person in the world, and the Baroness works with spinal injury and brain injury victims all the time, but that doesn't stop me from being more than a little disturbed by this flow, no matter how dope it is:

Membership: TERMINATED. Stick it up your ass, Netflix!

Seriously, how big of a jackass do you have to be to get me to cancel one of the best things I had going for me in my life?

I woke up to the news a few days ago that Netflix has decided to go forward with price changes in their service. Now, I might hear you say, "Well, that's just the cost of doing business, why can't you just pay the separate charges for streaming and blu-ray discs?"

Well, I'll tell you why.

See to me, what Netflix had going for them was that it was incredibly easy to use, the people you corresponded with were always nice (either through email and telephone), and for the most part, shit worked flawlessly. Then this happened:

"We knew there would be some people who would be upset," said company spokesman Steve Swasey. "To most people, it's a latte or two."

Seriously buddy, go fuck yourself. I wanna know how many people in this country aside from women and yuppie fucks like you actually drink lattes. Not to mention the fact that who is drinking a goddamn six dollar latte? I'm cool with my $2.50 Dunks, thanks.

To make matters worse:

The Hollywood Reporter asked Hastings (CEO, mind you) whether he was "concerned that American Netflix subscribers will look north and ask for the same discount Canadians get at $7.99?"

Hastings' reply (with a dig at Americans): "How much has it been your experience that Americans follow what happens in the world? It's something we'll monitor, but Americans are somewhat self-absorbed."

That did it for me, and hopefully for all of you as well. I can't justify giving my money to somebody who would go to Canada and basically call me a self-absorbed American asshole. And you know what? So what if I am, but I'm not going to let some snotty latte sucking asshole call me that in a press conference.

Oh, and by the way, Netflix as a company is worth 10.2 billion dollars. It's clear to me that they need more of my money. So from all of me to all of you, Netflix: GFY.


Love and kisses,

RVD

Can I Get an Encore?

So there I was, gchatting my afternoon away when a dear friend of mine asked me out of the blue why Los Hermanos Fantasticos (RVonD and the Fridge) had not been blogging anymore. Sure, we were way ahead of our time. We were so good, in fact, that shit just got too boring for us. There I was posting awesome videos and commenting on them, then Daniel Tosh went and fucked me over with his stupid show.

INTERLUDE: True story, I saw him live last week and he readily admitted that what he does for a living was the result of pure luck, and that it requires no talent to stand in front of a green screen and read what other people wrote (Looking right at YOU as well, Joel McHale).

ANYWAY,

Shit has gone down in the past year or so. Like, some serious shit. First and foremost you should know, both The Fridge and I now have females we LEGALLY have to answer to (read: Married). I'm back mocking children for a living, and Fridge has even more responsibility at his job with no raise in pay. I also have a mustache.

Moreover, In my talks with C-zanne I asked her what could a married, 30-year-old have to say that is in any way as funny as a miserable 25-year-old single asshole living in the middle of nowhere. After some soul searching, it occurred to me that shit is always going to be whack, people are always going to piss me off, the internet is a vast cavern much like the universe, and webcams are now more readily available to the lowest common denominator.

I am going to make every effort to see that this blog lives fat and happy. I probably need to do this now more than you need to read it, but screw it. I got nothing to do for the next week or so, God only knows what I'm going to be posting on here, but it is my hope that you dig it hard. Just because I'm now middle-aged now, that shouldn't mean that I need to go soft.


Let's Rage,

RVonD

PHASE 2: ENGAGE!

Hello true believers,

I figured the five week update was well overdue, so here we go.

Over the past few days I've been killing myself with this diet. To take it a step further, there have been days over the course of this experience where I literally wanted to kill myself. Take last night for example:

It is common practice for any high school sport team on the road to stop for dinner at the most convenient fast food place. Last night, I sat on a bus, feeling sick because for whatever reason, I can't deal with the smell of diesel fuel, and ate a dry salad with dry tuna while my entire team (coaches included) filtered back onto the bus with bags of Wendy's, Subway, and whatever else I couldn't eat. Most of the time I just consider food to be fuel. When you convince yourself that food is meant to sustain life and not taste good, you can pretty much convince yourself to eat anything when operating in a diet vacuum.

It's only when the good stuff enters your atmosphere that you start to realize what pain you are going through. Still, even with the temptation and madness, I still find myself at the end of five weeks sitting at 217 pounds. For those of you keeping track at home, that's down 22 lbs. in five weeks. Not a bad start.

And so begins Phase 2: Becoming Superhuman

The craziest thing I've dealt with in this entire process is I have yet to do an ounce of any exercise. I think part of the reason I failed in the past was because I didn't yield any real quantitative success right off the bat when I worked out as well as dieted. And I think what always hampered any amount of success I've ever had in the weight room is that I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Working glamour muscles (ie: chest, arms, shoulders, etc) never got me much but a bit of bulk on top of a hill made out of butter and shame. And when I did have some guidance under the tutelage of John Duncan, the best I did for him was kill myself at the gym then go home and eat like shit. So I have myself to blame for that one.

yet, the time has come to put the rest of this plan into action and hopefully be under 200 lbs for the first time in ten years before June 1st. Hopefully with the core exercise and continued diet, the rest of this mess will come right off. Even if it's hard than I expect, at least I've shed "the gobbler" under my chin. Now I just need hockey season to end so I can get on a regular gym schedule.

Oh yeah, and I am going to crush some awful food this Saturday for my long weekend. I've been watching "Epic Meal Time" on YouTube all week in preparation. Let's roll.

Egg whits and protein shakes,

R Von D

Week's 3 and 4: Back in the saddle

It's working.

Over the past couple of weeks I've seen distinct changes in my face. And when I say "distinct changes" I mean more prominent features. Who would have thought I was capable of having a jaw line made out of bone instead of a fleshy turkey-neck-type deal.

One thing I've taken to doing to make this go a lot better is I stopped preparing breakfast, so to speak. I figured the most important part of the process of breakfast was egg whites. I typically have a small cup of coffee with breakfast, which has helped me along as a chaser as I down two huge gobs of egg whites straight from the carton. All the protein without having to deal with something that has the smell and texture of hardened cat vomit (my personal approximation, cannot be confirmed).

So Saturday (my normal cheat day), after swallowing a good portion of egg whites, I took to the stars, consuming nearly 4,000 calories before noon with a trip to Dunkin Donuts and Burger King before my 1 o'clock hockey game. I was rolling. Bloated, nearly sick, but rolling. I'd be interested to learn about the endorphins released when I consume food I crave. Seriously why does it take shitty food to make me feel that good? Anyway, from there I had a dinner with my brother and his girlfriend. There I had ribs, pork loin, mashed potatoes, three glasses of wine, a beer, and then to top it off, some baked Alaskan. For a night cap, I had three beers, three jack and gingers, and some good conversation. Now for the best part:

While I was hanging out with some friends, I felt the need to go into the bathroom and check the damage of the day. I got weighed in on Tuesday, and much to my surprise, I weighed in at 224 lbs. Stupidly, I did not weigh myself in at the start of this diet, but my best approximation was that I had shed anywhere from 8-12 pounds. So after a day of consuming endless amounts of calories, I stepped on the scale, fully clothed except for shoes, took a deep breath, and looked down.

218.

I drunkenly burst from the bathroom demanding to know whether the scale in the bathroom was accurate. I was unconvincingly assured that the scale was accurate. So, even after a day of binging, I am still losing weight. To date, were are somewhere between 14-20 lbs in only four weeks work. I'm well on my way to being under 200 lbs by summer.

Bad news, I woke up today hungover but whatever. Nothing a burrito bowl couldn't fix. Until next time, hos.

Egg whites and black beans,
RVonD

4-Hour Body Week 2

For whatever reason this week I am full of piss and vinegar. I think there is some sort of hump that I need to get over for my body to get used to what I'm putting in it. I think it's like "fat kid DTs" or something.

I did experience some mild headaches in the beginning of the week (Sunday into Monday) but I think it was from a lack of water. I severely cut back on my almost two gallon a day habit and just need to get in the routine of having water on me at all times. Although, teaching an hour and a half lesson on gerunds and gerundives with a bladder the size of a canteloupe isn't nearly as fun as you'd think.

I did, however, receive an inspiring email from a dear friend and one of my biggest critics.

I've been following your blog as of late, congrats on sticking with the diet so far. Regarding Egg Whites, you will learn to love them, as you should anything that goes by the name All Whites.

In my days of self hate, I found that salsa (or anything spicy) was the best flavor additive, specifically corn and black bean. Give it a go.

Luckily for my main man here, I have been adding some organic salsa with very little sugar to these putrid fucking things. My wife almost gagged when I pulled a container of microwaved egg whites out and started eating it as fast as I could. The salsa helps, along with the added Brocolli florets for at least SOMETHING with some crunch to it instead of things that have the consistency of snot.

But as always, my humble reader, we endeavor to persevere, and I assure you that by beach season, RVonD 2.0 will be unleashed onto the world. My wife has already started studying up on Fillipino knife-weilding classes, so stay away from me bitches. I'm a one-horse kind of cowboy.

CHEAT DAY! A Running blog of binge eating

I made it, week and a half of all protein, all vegetables, nothing bad for me, and I finally get rewarded today. Just to give you a running blog, I will tell you all of the things I am eating, creeping ever closer to nausea.

7:30 AM - Wake up, two glasses of ice water on empty stomach.

8:10 AM - Vega Green meal replacement shake (30g Protein, enough vitamins to choke a goat)*

[Proctored SSATs - Drank half gallon of water]

12:30 PM- Glass of grapefruit juice, spoonful of all-natural peanut butter

12:45 PM- Three "Buck Doubles" from Burger King

1:45 PM - Glass of monkey-picked oolong tea, spoonful of peanut butter, followed by forty "air squats" in the kitchen while my wife entertained her mother and sisters.

2:45 - Garlic parmesan fries, mozzarella and pepperoni pizza, diet coke

4:00 - Nap

5:14 - Poo

7:00 - Get the word I am going out tonight, decide it best to stay away from large quantities of food and decide to drink my dinner, since it is the only day that I can.

9:00-1:45 - Six beers consumed of varying flavors.

2:00 - Bed.

Calorie count: Buck Doubles = 410 calories x 3 = 1230 calories
Pizza with pepperoni = 290 calories per slice x4 = 1160 calories
One pound of French fries = 400 calories (based on estimate) = 400 calories
Peanut butter = 94 calories per tbsp x 2 = 188 Calories
Beer = Miller Lite = 96 x 4 / Winter Lager = 190 x 2 = 764 calories

All for a grand total of 3,742 calories.

Not the grand total I wanted, but needless to say I was quite engorged by the time I was done. I plan on taking more in next Saturday when I hit up some more fast food establishments.

Week 1 Almost In the Can, Bitch!

I did it.

This Four Hour Body diet is now officially the longest diet I've stuck to in my entire life. Five days. I seriously feel like a drug addict who finally got through the DTs. How you like me now? I got another interesting tidbit for you readers out there too: Guess who else got on board with me...Mr. Fridgerino himself. Apparently he started breathing a little heavy in his soon-to-be-wife's face during sleepy time and scared her. So I'm trying to get him to tag team this bitch with me.

So, my week consisted these highlights:

Egg Whites - Seriously, are egg whites made from cat vomit? How bad can one thing taste? I've tried mixing this shit with everything and all the time I get the taste of concentrated shit. I know they are good for me, I know it is necessary to consume endless amounts of protein, but what the fuck? Can we find something better than this?

MEAT! - Love it. I can't eat enough beef and chicken over here. I feel like a caveman most days, but what I'm finding is the more protein I have coursing through my body, the more aware of my surroundings. Now I know why some animals eat this exclusively, I'm getting down to my base self here and love the primal nature.

Cold Showers - While I've done this before in order to stave off sexual desire, I now use this to ramp up my fat loss and I can't get enough of it. It's like a fight to the death between my mind and my body for dominance. My body wants to run away, my mind wants to stick it out and take all comers. Try it, you'll love it. Make anything a competition and I'm all for it. Like the white, out-of-shape, and less-talented Michael Jordan.

This Saturday marks my one week and my first ever binge day. I've already made a list of things I am going to eat and I assure you that the closet fat kid in me is going to go absolutely insane. Seriously, what if Betty Ford told alcoholics and heroin addicts that they had one day a week to go shithouse? Most of them would be dead by now. I swear to Christ I might eat a human being if it's available. Just make sure you keep your hands and feet away from my mouth.

FOR YOUR HEALTH!

RVonD

Guess Who's Back, Dipshits!!

Okay, so a lot has happened.

For anybody who has kept up with us over the past year or two, you know some major things have transpired.

Myself, Mr. Von D, have made an honest woman out of my girlfriend, and am now a responsible married man, no longer allowed to eat awful things for money. As for the Fridge, he somehow managed to find a nice young lady to call his own and is getting married in the spring. THose are the two most major changes I can think of.

More than that though, I have had about seven jobs in the past couple of years, but now I'm back doing what I do best; Standing in front of a classroom full of teenagers and making fun of them. This time though, I'm back on familiar turf, so the world is my oyster. Except for one minor detail.

I had an epiphany the other day. A lot of this blog chronicles me and my friends doing stupid things, just being your normal twenty somethings who are just trying to make a buck and not get any more calls from debt collection people. I must note at this point that Fridge has never had this problem, and is the most fiscally responsible person I've ever met. Anyway, the one thing that escaped my grasp was always my physical health.

I used to be an athlete. A pretty good one, actually. Not that anybody who has met me in the past 8 or 9 years would know that, but it's true. And even though this is the case, I feel as though I've made excuse after excuse to "let myself go." Even getting married wasn't really enough to get myself back into shape. Even with the help of the best trainer New England had to offer, I still had one obstacle I couldn't get over, my diet.

I tried different workouts, different fad diets, all the things I could in order to get my ass in gear, but you know one thing about getting advice is that nobody takes it. Ever. I needed something that made sense.

Enter Timothy Ferriss.

Too keep this brief, I'll just tell you that what Ferriss offered me was something that made sense to me. I needed to get out of the mold of what I had heard before. It's easy to tell somebody to eat healthy, to tell somebody that instead of eating this, you should eat this. Instead of doing this exercise, do this exercise. But what Tim offered me was something that made sense to me. Here are some reasons why.

1) He hates making breakfast.
2) He thinks outside the "calorie in, calorie out" theory that has dominated every fitness magazine.
3) I get one day a week where I can eat whatever the fuck I want and not feel bad about it.

So, here is my attempt to get my shit back together. I've started my "Lose 30 Before 30" campaign as of today, and you get a front row seat, bitches. Six months of no nonsense chronicling of my journey through TIm Ferriss' "Four Hour Body" book. Hopefully I can show you some success this time. Let's roll...

Slainte,

RVonD

Oh yeah, in an effort to give you the TMI factor, I've started my diet today and have already taken three poops. It's not even noon. So there you go.