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I Resolve...
Written on 2002-01-07, at 3:13 a.m.
dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

1 Boston Market Chicken Meal

1 Pint Ben & Jerry's Half Baked

3 Smirnoff Ices

5 Cigarettes


John Live*

See, I eat...

I EAT.

*Not at all live


Happy new year, again to everyone. I was thinking this past week about what my resolutions should be, and it's been a tad difficult.

#1 Quit smoking altogether.

This is to be achieved by sheer determination, willpower, and substituting nicotine for either:

A) Coffee

B) Alcohol

C) Sex

or,

D) An ungodly combination of all three.

#2 Get a boyfriend.

This will be achieved by:

A) Poise and self confidence

B) Charm and charisma

C) A dirty handkerchief and Diethyl ether.

#3 Graduate.

This will be achieved by:

A) Studying hard

B) Participating in class

C) Realizing that professors will not accept "I was too Liza-ed up" as a legitimate excuse for absence.

#4 Shape up, and normalize my eating habits.

This will be achieved by:

A) Having a regular work-out regiment

B) Setting appropriate times for meals and snacks

C) Eliminating the food group "Cadburys" from my diet

These are just a few that I'm going to try and stick to, though I can already tell you the "No smoking" one went right out the window the moment I set foot in a club tonight. The boyfriend, well, my "I'm interested" rapport doesn't extend very far past "Hey". Graduation? Well, this is my class schedule...

Environmental Systems

Medical Ethics

Advanced French: Language and Literature (taught entirely in conversational French)

College Math (for idiots like me who cannot comprehend any upper-level mathematics classes)

Note that none of the courses besides the French Literature class have anything to do with my major. As for better body, and eating habits...

Today I laid around the house until 7pm, after which I went to Boston Market, consumed a quarter of a previously living animal, then watched television for two hours before going to a nightclub, drinking, smoking, and returning home to eat ice cream.

So as you can see, we're off and running.


Last night, I had a dream.

No, I'm not quoting the abhorrently kitsch musical "RENT"...

I really did have a dream.

I dreamed that Tony Blair was shooting arrows off the balcony of Buckingham palace while delivering a speech to which I was doing an interperetive dance on the front lawn.

After waking, I stared at the blankly for a few minutes, then got up, walked to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and said..."Ok, no, really...what the hell was that all about?"


Speaking of mirrors, I think I've discovered the best thing about nightclubs.

People dancing, by themselves, mind you, in front of a mirror.

I'm not sure if this is a gay phenomenon or not, so let me explain it.

Someone will be dancing...

In front of a mirror...

Alone.

That's about the long and short of it.

There's just some guy, usually shirtless and vacant, dancing to the vision of his own sweaty reflection.

When I see it, I think of my first kitten, who would sit on the bathroom counter for hours, staring at herself.

And while Scamper wasn't doing this whilst gyrating to "Let's Get Soakin' Wet", the coorelation is still there, I believe.

Be well...

-JOHN-

P.S.- Dan, I miss you already...Come back soon, please?


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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