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Welcome back! It's time for more girthy grins from your formerly portly preacher. So let's get right into it and see what's happening in the world of Johnny. Frankly, I'm dealing with another debacle. Last week, I finally got around to finally moving my old suits into storage. Did I say finally? I have been slowly paring my old wardrobe from my closet. It has not been easy. It's not the actual moving of clothes that's hard, it's the sorting of the clothes that's the killer. What to throw away and what to keep. It's a mess of epic proportions. After all, I am dealing with about 5 levels of clothing. To clear it up for our new readers, a "level" of clothes is / was the particular items I had that fit me in various stages of rotundness. At my worst, I was busting out of my Level 3 wardrobe. That consisted of several pairs of slacks and a couple of over sized shirts. God forbid if I ever had to invoke Level 4 emergency protocols! That was just a moo moo and a pair of furry bunny slippers. The world was not ready for that. As I have lost weight, I have moved rapidly through Level 2 (comfortable fitting FAT wardrobe), Level 1 (loose fitting fat wardrobe and some trousers and shirts from an old closet, circa 1995), a new transitional Level A wardrobe (some new clothes and a myriad of FAT clothes that were taken in), Level B wardrobe which consists of all new transitional clothes and some old shirts that have been severely altered. Needless to say the the move downward through the levels requires me to set up shop in my closet and endlessly try on pants and shirts. Discarding the "absolutely don't fits", keeping the" fits OKs" and waffling on the "in-betweeners". Because this chore is not related to work, sports or sex, paying attention for any length of time is quite cumbersome. So after about an hour, I got bored and just keep the items I hadn't gotten to yet. This caused a little bit of a logjam. But I FINALLY got it done. After last weeks wardrobe purge, my closet looks pretty empty. Now I have discovered I have only a handful of pants that fit, a few jeans and three Jos. A Banks Sunday go-to-meetin' outfits. I'm in trouble here! I may have to invoke reverse Level C emergency protocols, if I don't get some new trousers in a hurry! I have taken the new pants I bought back in November to Giovanni the "crack tailor" to get taken in. I call him the "crack tailor" because it seems like I am there every week with a fistful of cash to get my fix. I hope these pantalones hold me for another month or so. I really don't want to buy new slacks because I am right on the edge of another downward move in the waist size. Giovanni hopes I continue the tailoring route. I also learned that even if your tailor tells you he can take 9 inches out of your waist, that doesn't mean the pants are going to look right. I may have started a new fashion trend ... 3 belt loops in the back about an inch apart from each other. We'll see if it catches on. Truth be told, I made a few wardrobe mistakes along the way. First, I got way too many slacks, suits and sport coats altered after the first 30 pounds or so. My body was changing so fast that I never even had a chance to wear most of the items. Secondly, I took about 20 shirts in and had those taken in as well. Giovanni can take in the sides, but he can't redo the neck. So I ended up with a bunch of dress shirts with big necks. And the sport coats? He took in the sides, but he couldn't move the shoulders. So I ended up looking like a character from Miami Vice. Big wide collars and shoulder pads. I had to say good bye. I am just ranting about this because it's aggravating and time consuming. But we have to put this in the "good problem to have" column. Yup. It sure beats going the other way. I suppose it's rewarding to see the new clothes I bought in the fall hanging off me already. With another 25 pounds to go, I'm certain I'll being doing at least a couple more wardrobe purges. Only this time it won't be fancy custom suits made by my former haberdasher. You know him? Omar the Tent Maker. If you go see him, tell him Johnny sent you. And also tell him I am no longer in need of his services. SOOOO LOOONG FOR NOW! JT Fat Fanatics! Email your comments and questions to: mccgolfer99@gmail.com I will answer all questions and, who knows, your pithy comments might make the blog!

So yesterday was stressful Contractor chaos at home along with my poor dog who is nervous around ladders and paint rollers. I took her to her doggy day care as this wears her out. I'd planned on breakfast and lunch as I had meetings to attend. I drank breakfast on the way to the morning meeting. I ordered tea only but was sort of wistfully sad when a colleague ordered my favourite breakfast sandwich and sat next to me. I focused on ignoring her until she was done. As I was at a restaurant and because I had time to kill until a much later appointment I went outside to get my iPad and "lunch". When I picked up the bag and had already gotten it inside I realized that the shake had opened and had spilled its contents onto my SmartShape paperwork and onto my chargers. I got a load of napkins and pulled stuff out of the bag. I'm sue I looked ridiculous as it's colour - due to me adding a packet of crystal light to the vanilla shake looked a bit like blood. I caught MANY looks and a manager came over after asking if he could help me. Once I told him what had happened he laughed his head off. The manager left and then I had to hunt an electrical outlet because of course my iPad was out of juice - typical. I knew that some seating areas had outlets but I had a hard time discerning which ones because the baseboards are painted black as are the outlets. I asked a waitress for help but she was just unsure of which tables had the outlets. Now I'm not tiny. I'm 5'11" and I weigh 250 lbs. bending over to try to see is a challenge. I decided that because I HAD to get some of this work done that I'd have to get down on my hands and knees to see if I could see the &$(!?$$ outlet. I crawled underneath the table and finally was able to see it. So picture this - my full (REALLY full) moon was in the air and because I'm so tall I keep knocking my but and my head on the table threatening to overturn it. I look up and can see the shins of others passing by and two women who are sitting across from my table say "where's the wacko with the bloody bag". I emerged from under the table and smiled at them and said "right here" As I left the restaurant I stopped and bought hubby a treat ignoring my most favourite cookie. What a day. I'm admitting to hunger on occasion, but I haven't eaten anything I'm not allowed. Having seemingly non stop chaos at home leaves me tired. By tomorrow the painters will be in the basement and I should be able to mostly working from home. No access to pictures. Feels odd to end this without a picture. Tomorrow I'll post two to make up!