|Here I am on the cover of|
LA Confidential magazine.
I've been dieting for a month. A whole month! Why don't I look like Mila Kunis yet?
In case you've stroked out and don't know, I have been battling with food addiction for the past too many years. Food is my friend, my comfort, my love. I would wake up thinking about how I have to stop eating so much only to go to the kitchen and gorge on whatever I could find, then finish off whatever was left on the kids' plates. I never got to the point of diving through rubbish bins looking for the last few fries from a McDonald's Happy Meal, but my thoughts were always consumed by food. Pardon the pun.
I've been taking the appetite suppressant Duramine for a month now. The first week was hell. Going cold turkey on Pepsi and all things sugary made me want to kill. I had headaches and apparently I was not a happy chappy to live with. Ok, I was a little difficult to be around. Alright, I was a psychopathic fucktard asshat. And I only lost two kilograms. I'd been banging my head against a wall for nothing (150 calories per hour. True.) What a waste of eight hours that was. I bet Mila Kunis never had to bang her head as much as I do to shift calories.
|And I didn't even use |
Two kilograms (or in real terms, Mila Kunis' left arm) is the baby step towards the new me. Looking like Mila Kunis is my carrot dangling out in front. And if that doesn't work, the price tag of the Duramine will certainly do the job.
*No Mila Kunises were harmed in the making of this blog.
Come bang your head on my Facebook wall & lose 150 calories per hour with me!