One of my coaches remarked tonight, "I'm not saying this to be mean, but you look like you've put on weight."

After five or so days of eating little other than dead animal flesh, I really wanted to knock him down and stomp on him until he was just a little, bloody, greasy stain.

And then I realized, "Oh, yeah. I have put on some weight since he last saw me."

Well, fuck.

Just for shits and giggles (as me sainted mother would say), I'm going to weigh tomorrow to see how I'm doing. And if I haven't lost any weight (I'd gained back two of the fucking four I'd lost), I'm going to go on a Godzilla-esque rampage through midtown. If you don't see any people in Bryant Park at lunch tomorrow, it's because I've eaten or stopmed them all.

Oh, and yes, me sainted mother really does talk like that. That one has a mouth on her that would make Barnacle Bill blush.