Here in Donald Trump's Amerikkka I'm trying to do something that most people would refer to as "losing weight" and/or "gaining a modicum of self-control, ya dumbshit (or: dumb shit)." It's a touch-N-go affair! But... I'm trying, baby. And yesterday is a prime example of both how FUDGIN' UP and NOT BEING TOO HARD ON YOURSELF can court, date for a few years, marry and eventually...You see that symbol above with the beer and the number six and then the red X and the number 7? This is what I'm talkin' 'bout (IMAGINE A LITTLE OWL BEAK IN BTWN THE 2 APOSTROPHES THERE, PLEASE). I went one over the limit, folks, and I'm not proud. But I'm not also gonna completely discredit the good work I did (eating well, exercising, work stuff, etc). What I'm saying is that THE DAYS WITHOUT AN ACCIDENT sign is not a joke; it's me life. I take it seriously. It's my temple, my church, my PORGS. I didn't soil it by going one over the limit. One over the limit is fine. But, only one...
