So, I am not a regular weigher-of-my-body. It’s not something I think to keep on top of. And when I do think about weighing myself, the fact that I get on My Lovely Wife’s case when she obsessively weighs herself makes me do it furtively and sheepishly.

So imagine my surprise when I came back from the Canadian Ultimate Championships last week, wondering how much weight I had lost in three days of intense physical activity, and discovered I was fifteen pounds OVER my usual weight. Not under. OVER.

Chagrin was my wingman.

So imagine my double surprise when I weighed myself this morning and discovered that the fifteen pound gain had TOTALLY vanished.

I guess the fact that I had swollen up from the heat and dehydration to German-sausage levels may have been a factor.

…

It was really stunning, like someone had injected Itchy Grossness^© into my legs until I had barely enough mobility to walk. Dudes, my legs were shiny.

…

* Itchy Grossness^© — New from Ronco!

Looking for the right blend of viscosity and lumpiness from your all-purpose goo? Then Itchy Grossness^© is for you!

Itchy Grossness^©
Goo… for the rest of you!

I’ve been slack, rude, and more than a little stinky to you.

And that’s just wrong, because out of all the visitors to this fair site, you are my favourite.

Yes, I’m talking to you.

No, not you — you.

Alas, I am struggling — heroically, I might add — to burrow through a mound of work before I head off on Monday for the fair city of Toronto and the 2007 Canadian Ultimate Championships!

Whoo! And a Hoo! Everybody dance now!

[Everyone dances.]

So, in recompense to my abominable behaviour to you, please allow me to offer you…

… a few of my newly-patented iHugs^©!

[Pause for applause.]

They’re just like hugs, but shiny and white! And they have a touchscreen!

(Well, the touchscreen is my belly, but you can touch it if you really want to.)

Takers? Anyone?

[Expectant pause.]

I have returned.

Actually, I returned a whole two days ago, but the universe conspired to proceed without me while I was on my vastly enjoyable sojourn in Montreal, so I’ve been playing catch-up. (Thanks a lot, Universe. Couldn’t take the weekend off while I was away, could you? No. That wouldn’t have been fair at all. Frigging jerk.)

To tide you over until I have grappled the Universe into a nigh unbreakable headlock (yeah — I’m looking at you, Universe… look upon my fists and despair, ya dumbass), please allow me to present you — my feta-cheese-dappled readers — with a brief factoid:

After driving for 11 hours, the funniest things in the world are (1) fruit-flavoured cigarillos, (2) satellite radio, and (3) pink and silver unicorns named “Porny”.

It’s a fact.

Believe me, I was as surprised as you.

* Photo totally stolen from Mike.