Cutting out those between-meal snacks has made a difference in stemming the fleshy flood of my waistline. Those of you familiar might find my over-weight surprising _ but my wife knows the difference.
I was once a trim young man when I hung out at the Cedar Tavern. But somewhere between my first treatise on the bourgeois nature of impasto and the pay line at the Thompson Center DMV, I gained a few pounds. Thanks to my dedicated mate, the YMCA and my own self resolve, I've come a shade closer to my 31x32 jeans from that summer of interning at the Walter Gropius Homesite.
That's all I'm sharing today. This is the automated webpost where I DON'T tell you what I'm working on. It's none of your business. Refreshing? I hope to market my line of non-self-promotional WeBLoGS by Feb. 2006.
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