FIT, TRIM AND BRITNEY'S FRIEND

It's official.

I now feel sorry for Britney Spears.

Before when we were all led to believe that she was an out-of-control party animal who chose drugs over her kids, I was driving the bandwagon that had "Britney's a Dumb Drug-Addicted Whore" emblazoned across its sides and hood.

Now that the truth is slowly leaking out and we're finding out that the Brittster is fighting mental illness ... well damn.

Those pictures of her in the ambulance where she looks batshit crazy are just sad.

Anyway ... good luck to ya, Brit.

And for God's sakes ... stay on your medicine this time.

So where the hell have I been for the last month???

The time that I would normally spend writing this mishmash of malarkey has been spent ... get ready for it ... EXERCISING.

Since September 11th (an easy and convenient date to start a diet), I've lost 26 lbs the CORRECT way ... through diet and exercise. I've done it slowly and methodically. No fad diets. No gastric bypass. Just eating healthy foods in moderation, saying "no" to pizza and cheesecake during office lunches and realizing that dammit ... I ate the way I wanted to eat for decades. Now it's time to eat the RIGHT way.

Today, Sears is delivering this treadmill to the house.

Treadmills have always been my sworn enemy in the past.

And I'm not exactly sure that we're on good terms now.

But lately it's getting too damned cold at 5 a.m. to get out there and walk 2-3 miles.

Plus I pick up Andrew from school everyday and as much as I'd love to get a second workout in during the afternoon, I can't leave him at home by himself.

So HOPEFULLY this should work out great.

If not, I sure hope one of you fat bastards will take if off my slender hands.

I am so freakin' jazzed for the return of "Lost" right now.

We're going to be on our cruise when the first episode starts on January 31st.

I'm going to try and talk the ship's captain into returning back to the states that day so I can watch the show and then we can go back out to sea for the remainder of the week.

I plan on using my smooth hypnotic manipulative ways on him.

So, barring any unforeseen circumstances like I can't really hypnotize people, I should be watching Lost from the shores of Port Canaveral in a little tiki bar known for its umbrella drinks and middle-aged barflys who hit on anything that moves.

If all else fails, I'll hijack the ship.

I NEED TO SEE MY NEW SEASON OF LOST PRONTO, CAPTAIN!

I ordered Susie one of those Buxton Bags that you see every time you turn on the TV.

They said 2-3 weeks for delivery. Perfect. It'd get there right before Christmas.

Christmas came and went.

No Buxton Bag.

"Ummmm ... your present is coming. It should have been here by now. I promise I got you something."

Yeah right.

Earlier this week I finally found a customer service number for the place.

Called them up.

"Oh. Your order's been pushed back."

"How far?"

"About 6-8 weeks."

"Cancel that bitch, bitch. It ain't a Christmas present when you get the shit in March."

I told Susie that I had canceled her gift and told her what it was.

Now she wants to reorder it because she really wants that cheap piece of cowhide.

Grrrrrreat.

Let's just make it a 4th of July gift.

I've got to go help some guys build a playground for our neighborhood.

Did I tell you I'm running for a spot on the board of directors for my neighborhood association?

No??

Well I am.

Keep your fingers crossed that I finally get to do something with my life that will make me look more important than I really am.