Waddling Towards Fitness: A Sign, an Omen, a Talisman

Yes, I know, it's been a while since Jack put down his Gumshoeing magnifying glass and brought you up to date on what's been happening. Could it be that's because, on the War On Lard! nothing has been going on, or so says the two smartest things in my life, Dolly-girl and the scale. "If you want to lose lard, Jack, you know how to do it--it just takes those two steps that Prof..." "I know, Dolly-girl, I know, it's just that both of those steps are pretty hard these days. But I'll get back to it, I really will!" "Well, you'd better Jack. Remember when you had 6 months to shed some  of those triglycerides you've picked up before your next sit-down with Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD? Well, now you have 12 days!" "Whoan..." "And we're headed for that beach wedding..." "Whoan..."

With Dolly-girl's spanking fresh in my ears, I headed out to do a little 2-Steppin'. I walked on over to where we've been putting' in our farm crops. Dolly-girl is thinking' that we need to be looking towards what she calls self-sufficiency just in case The Big One hits cause, you know, she says that would Trump everything. I don't know why she capitalizes that, but she's the one with the parchment that says English on it. 


Anyway, I hoofed it to the farm and checked on our acreage and things were lookin' pretty good. In fact, everything is movin' right along like maybe it's warmer than usual or something... What was that Dolly-girl was telling me about the 6th straight record-setting month when it comes to the old mercury?

Walking a mile to the farm and back isn't exactly what Professor Javier Boleyn has in mind when it comes to the 2-Step Duh! Diet (™Boleyn Enterprises) so I kept walking and headed for the rose garden in the park. Sure enough, the roses were blooming. I took time to smell some of them while givin' me a good talkin' to. "Jack, what the heck is it with droppin' all your gs?" I asked myself. Aunt Genevieve's girdle, you shouldn't be doin' that--you sound like what's her name--what's that blogger Dolly-girl reads call her--Princess Dumbass of the Northwoods...OK, spanking number two and this time I'm beatin' --I mean beatinG myself. Whoan, twice beaten...

Roses smelt, I walked on, just lettinG my feet tread where they wanted and imagininG a trail of LARD! behind me like a slime trail from a slug. Well, if my feet know one direction, it's the directions to Radio Room, and sure enough, by the time I looked up, they were proppinG themselves on the rail under the bar.  "How'z about an IPA, Jack?" "Never failed me yet, Bar-Am, hop one down here for me." "What's with the long face, Jack?" "You tellingG horse and bar jokes, Bar-AM?" "No, you just look like your best friend is pushin' (she can drop her's) daisies..." "It's the War on Lard!, Bar-Am. It's not goinG so well." "I know, Jack, the Professor mentioned that just about noon time. He was wondering if you were in enjoying another one of those giant sandwiches you like..." "Professor Boleyn called here? He didn't know where I was?" A smile crept across my face--I was safe from the trifecta of oral spankings!

A voice boomed over the sound system--"Ha! You think you aren't going to get it again? Yes, it is I, Professor Javier Boleyn. I admit to having some difficulty locating you--Find My LardAss, the new app I have invented (™Javier!) is not yet working to my satisfaction, but soon...

"Wait, wouldn't I have to install something on my phone for it to work? I didn't, wouldn't, never..." "Remember the new phone you got a couple weeks ago? Remember how the reincarnated Steve Jobs geek said 'Just let me get the newest software on there for you...'"  "Whoan..."

"Yes, Jack, it's time for the third and final slapping of the day. Of course, I don't count your self-inflicted insults, so it's really only two. Of course it's only two. 2. "

"Enough, Professor. I can predict what you will say. It's what I've heard before, and yet I seem powerless to implement it. I've reread Sliding to Slovenliness: When 2-Steppers Reject Professor Javier Boleyn and 2-Steps to the Deep End: Losing the War on LARD! to no avail. I've looked at myself in every reflection and your words echo in my ears--"Who is that LARD!Ass?" Sadly, that LARD!Ass is me. It is I. Jack D'Mestiere..."

"Quit your sniveling, Jack. It's not becoming of one of my followers."

"You mean, you mean?" "Yes, Jack, you are still a Professor Javier Boleyn 2-Stepper. But, you are on probation. You must look around you, Jack. You will see a sign. When you see it, you will know it. When you know it, you can lose it. Wait, see it, know it, lose it is three steps--back to the drawing board..."  "Thank you Professor, I won't let you down!. Can I ask a question?" "Of course, lad." "What's with the ™Javier!?" "I bought it from Jeb!--cheap..."



A sign. An omen. A Talisman. What could it be. I tipped Bar-Am a little extra, left half a beer and its calories sitting on the bar, and walked out into the daylight. Down the street, not knowing what I was looking for or listening for, but knowing I would see it, and then know it. A strange sound was in the air. A sound I'd heard before. It was that song...LARD is All Around Me...and suddenly, when what to my wondering eyes should appear...

a-Waddlin' Toward Fitness: I mean, Really, Jack?

My blower buzzed that noise it makes when someone is trying to get a hold of D'Mestiere Investigations face-to-face. At this time of the morning, 8:17 AM, who could it be. Dolly-girl gave a mumph from under the covers. "Gads, Jack, who is calling you at this ungodly hour?" "I'm abetting' it's the tin stars over to Burns--likely want me to go undercover, mosey into the wildlife refuge, and infiltrate them terrorist fellers that are camped out in guvmint property!" If'n I'da been under the saddle blanket with Dolly-girl, I'da spied them peepers arollin' at me, even thru the wave. Ruther than that, I got a "Snort" whichn' I made out to mean "My Uncle Jackie's jihad, Jack, don't forget your earmuffs!"

"D'Mestiere Investgations--wheren' y'alls trouble is no trouble t'all! How can I be ahelpin' you, Mr. Director Comey?" "Jackie-boy..." Gulp. I didn't have Director Comey on the blower a-askin' for my hep. It was..."Professor Javier Boleyn. You are correct, Jackie-boy. And knock off the riding' 'n ropin' accent. I'm FaceTwoFaceTwoStepping (™Boleyn Enterprises) to ask you just what in the name of the Professor's Plaid Pants--oh my, I'm starting to sound a little like Dolly-g, I mean Fiora--you are up to."

"I'ma, oops, I'm, not following, doc, I mean Professor..." "Well, just a short week ago, Jack, you were called on the carpet by Fiora and you acted all contrite--after making excuses, of course. But a week later, after examining data from the Boleyn CumuloCloud (™Boleyn Enterprises, and HA! beat you to it, iSaint Steven...) I find that you have, in fact continued your ways."

"Exhibit 1." "Whoan..." "Don't be agivin' me--dang, you got me adoin' it now--don't give me 'whoan', Jack. Give me two visits to Apizza Scholls in a week. That is not the Tao of 2-Step (™2-Steps 2 Fitness, A Proven Path by Boleyn. Hey, where's the Boleyn Enterprises? If TRUMP can be a one word empire, Professor Javier Boleyn certainly can...) Jack. Read the book again. I want guilt."






"Exhibit 2. A trip to the ocean. Did you walk miles on the beach, dropping LARD to be washed from your body to the sea? No, I believe those are pan-fried oysters, french fries, and, I believe, not one, but two Imperial pints of IPA..." "Dolly-girl, pinch me and make this dream end!" "Snort! Mmmph!"





"Exhibit 3. The Hop House on 15th. Their LARD warning system went off when you crossed the threshold and activated the menucam  (® Don't-Lie-To-Me, LLC, optical technology by BOLEYN!) which recorded you eating deviled eggs, in a nod to restraint, and a taster tray of a dozen IPAs." "They were small tastes..." "A dozen times 4 ounces comes to 3 pints using my calculator, Jack. Do I need to point out that this was the same day as your trip to Buoy in Astoria?" "No. No, Professor, you don't. That's strange, do you hear the sound of a tide coming in...?"



"Exhibit 4. Really, Jack? Really? You have the ability to joke about your condition? You post a picture of a Spam Burger on, what's the name of that little social site you use, Phase Book--I guess it is a phase compared to my time-proven  and universally used inventions--joking that I would approve of such fare, or as you call it, vittles. I most certainly do not approve, Jackie-boy."










"Professor, I'd really like to be beaten some more, but I seem to be getting wet." "That tide, Jack, is a sea of guilt washing over you..." "Gotta go, Professor. Agoin' for a waddle..." Click. "Who was it, Jack?" "Just a compadre athrowin' me a rope, Fiora. Just a feller I knowd..."

Dispatch from D'Mestiere Investigations: How Soon We Forget...

"Jack, you really need to kick it into gear and start writing your dispatches again--particularly those ones about Waddling Towards Fitness. I mean, I'm just saying' Jack, it's been more than a year since you found one of those buckets of lard you lost. You keep muttering and saying it's only temporary, but...how soon we forget!"

"Aunt Jean's Jump Suit, Fiora, give me a break here. I mean first of all, I changed jobs, if you will kindly remember, back in September and it takes some getting used to..." "Sleeping in and not getting paid takes getting used to Jack? It's the cat and me that have had the adjustment. Ryman was used to having your spot in our bed at 5 in the morning, not to mention that I was happy not to have to snudge covers from you either. Now, it can be 6 o'clock or later and you're still snoozing'."

"Well, don't forget, I was awful busy watching Dania and Čučo work. Remember the kitchen project? Maybe not. How soon we forget..." "OK, Jack, I'll admit that watching them do their magic and drinking beer was pretty much a full-time job for you. Gee, I wonder where that lard came from. Oops, the phone is ringing...Oh 'Jackie-boy', it's for you..." "Professor, you caught me in the middle of...yes, yes, I know..." Whoan...




All kidding aside, here's a before and after tour of our kitchen. Me and Dolly-girl loved the 1938 charmer that was the kitchen we bought. But what a wonderful improvement our friends at Duri, Inc. made for us...But I'll tell you, it wasn't always easy drinking beer and staying out of their way...

Before                                                                                   

                                                                      After

Waddling Towards Fitness: The old one-two from Professor Javier Boleyn

I don't know why it should surprise me that, as I settled into my seat at the Stumptown Ticker Clinic, my blower started buzzing like those dozen hornets that latched onto Fiora last summer and followed her right into the house. When a hornet gets hold of you, they don't let go. "Hello, Jack D'Mestiere on the line; D'Mestiere Investigations; We make your trouble no trouble at all." "So, Jackie-boy, a trip to the Cardiologist, eh?" "Gulp, whoan, I can't believe it Professor. You are as tenacious as the Stumptown Academy for Private-Eying Alumni Association. "

How in the name of Aunt Genevieve's Geritol did you find me?" "StenText (®Boleyn Enterprises), a little invention that I came up with that not only monitors flow through those culverts they inserted into your Lard!-packed coronary arteries, but also texts your physical location to HQ through BCC Boleyn Cloud Craft (™Boleyn Enterprises), my cloud computing service

that competes head-on-head with Microsoft, Dropbox, and Apple (Boleyn Enterprises and iEverything-Under-The-Suns-of-the-Universe have dissolved their business connections due to unrealistic expectations on the part of iSaint Steven. BCC is based on a surprising 2-step formula that is KICKING THAT FAKE SAINT'S ASS IN AND OUT OF THE PEARLY GATES!). Not surprisingly, it's based on a 2-step approach to the cloud. It's secret though. I digress. Even though we have been mostly out of touch since May 5, 2013, all the 2-Step Technology continued to function, so when I was informed that on October 27, 2014, you were to have stents inserted. I assured that they were equipped with BCC StenText capability." "Oh oh..."

"Oh, oh is an understatement, Jack. It's time to come to grips with what has happened. A serious relapse caused by a rare condition--although I should have anticipated it with you--of 2-Step Dyslexia." "What the?" "Yes, Jack, despite your efforts, pitiful as they are, and your solemn belief that you are still following the 2-Step Duh! Diet, you have transposed it from Eat Less, Move More, to Eat More, Move Less." "Whoan!" "But while you have been re-lapsing, I have been studying your case and it has become the foundation for my latest scientific monograph, Dyslexic Dieter: Transpositional Errors in β-RNA Associated With Mistranslation of the 2-Step Duh! Diet." "β-RNA?" "Boleyn RNA--I postulated it, and then discovered it in blood samples provided to me by my colleague and co-author, Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD." "Everyone is against me..."

"So, Professor, it's not my fault, after all!" "Wrong, Jackie-boy, wrong. β-RNA is formed as a result of self-delusion. In your case, it has to do with the amount you are walking--waddling, you call it, and I tend to agree--and how you record the mileage." "Nothin' good is headed my way, I can feel that. Dolly-girl--er, Fiora has been telling' me I need to quit shopping around for Apps that sing me the song I want to hear..." "It also has to do with what you have begun to consider foods that can be on your "OK List." Here's a few samples caught by the You've-Got-To-Be-Kidding-Me Cam (® Tell-Me-Another-One, No-I've-Heard-It-All-Before, LLC, optical technology by Boleyn Enterprises) implanted in your reading glasses and sent to BCC." "You've got to be kidding me..." "Careful, you're headed for a patent infringement there..."

 

"So, Jack. While Map My Walk (™whoever owns it) is tedious, it provided you with an accurate route and mileage. When you got that new device (and what's with the pink case, by the way)..." "Long story, Professor." "It wouldn't happen to involve a hotel room floor near the Denver airport, would it..." "Don't tell me..." "Yes, Jack, BCC captured and transmitted the entire incident while conducting a physical shock-induced status check--PSICC (®SecondStep, a member of the Boleyn Enterprises Constellation). Anyway, you were lured by the UP (™whoever owns it) App that records all your steps, and your mileage, including the miles you log to and from the refrigerator to get yet-another beer. And some days, Jack, you record mileages like 0.9 miles that consist entirely of two activities: getting a beer, and getting rid of a beer, if you get my..." "OK, OK, I get where you are going..."

"Where I'm going, Jackie-boy, is that 2-Step Dyslexia is reversible." "How do I do that, Professor?" "Get your Lard!-laden body back on the streets, Jack. Move more. And stay away from good food--if it tastes good, spit it out." "Whoan!"

"This will not be my last call, but it is yours!"

2-Stepping Down Memory Lane: Thank you, THANK YOU, Professor Javier Boleyn

Every once in a while it's good to stroll, or in this case, 2-Step, down memory lane...

Then                                                         Now

Lumbering and Logging: An Update on 2-Stepping in Eastern Oregon

My blower made a sound I'd never heard before--but then it was new to me and I couldn't be sure that the "hog-snorting" alert that was booming out of the damned thing wasn't normal.  I punched a couple buttons--"Siri, what the hey is that hog sound?" "It's the App called '2-Steppin' (® i-of-Steven) alerting you to an incoming video link..." "Are you serious?" "I'm always Siri-ous (® I-could-be-in-Siri-ous Trouble for Doing This, Inc.), Jack..." Gads, a phone with a pun-ch line, Just what I knead..."




"Jackie-boy, it is..." Why am I not surprised... "I, Professor Javier Boleyn. You have been quite the difficult subject...I mean client...to track recently." "I get around, Professor." "Yes you do, but not as much as you used to. Reports are in. In the first four months of this year, you waddled, and I will repeat waddled, 671.92 miles." "Not bad, if I say so myself. Guess I'll have a brewski..." "Hold that thought, Jack. In the first four months of last year, you did 988.73 miles, and you were sick for a month!" "But, I've been..." "The only butt that is of concern here, Jackie-boy, is the one growing behind you." "Wail! I'm trying to do better." "Yes, and I'll hand it to you, the first 5 days of May have been harkening to the past. But I've seen this behavior before. How many pounds have you lost in your life?" "Oh, I don't know. Maybe 6 or 7...hundred..." "Exactly."

 "The Scale-email (still ®Boleyn Enterprises) and the soon-to-be-patented Boleyn Enterprises Thought Interceptor (® I hope by Boleyn-Jobs Enterprises, the company every boy dreams of co-owning with a dead icon...) have been reporting on cue, Jackie-boy. The news is not good. According to independent verified and quality-assured sources, you have added approximately 0.44751 pails of LARD! to your carcass since its nadir. WHAT IS THAT ABOUT?"  "Wait, I can explain..." "I'm sure you can, Jack. You always do. Past history is neither a pleasant reminder, nor a positive presage, of what's to come if you don't start 2-Stepping (® Blah, Blah, Blah), and I mean NOW!" "Whoan!"

"Wait, how are you keeping up with me? I thought I'd given you the shake." "Well, Jackie-boy, as I mentioned, I have the Scale-email. That never really stopped. You have the same scale you had last fall, right?" "Whoan. Right." "The Thought Interceptor is a new technology I've been fiddling with. It works particularly well with certain subjects...clients [note to self: Damn. Have to quit calling paying customers subjects...] It's satellite based, of course, and it picks up emanations from simple minds--I mean simple thoughts--so it works quite well with you. You see, Jack, you aren't really ignoring your LARD! gain. You think about it constantly, so the  Thought Interceptor was able to home in on a lumbering object with the thought 'LARD!' coming form his head more-or-less constantly." "Jeesh."

"OK, Professor, I'm going to do better." "If I had a nickel for every time I'd heard that, Jackie-boy, I wouldn't have to be hanging out with the likes of you. I'd be dining on perfectly prepared bacon at the Columbian Cafe, as you apparently were when this was captured by the Rub-EYE Cam, (® SowBelly Systems, side-meat, I mean a side business of PJB Galactic Corporations, made possible by a profit-seeking collaboration with iSaint Steven, himself) " "Wail!"






Here's what it means, Jack. Get serious, and I don't mean Siri-ous! No more martinis, no more basted eggs with a half-pound of spuds. What's with that plate-o-bacon? I know Fiora didn't eat that..."




"And the beer, Jackie-boy. The beer. Remember, your Sole-sister will be watching and reporting." "Sole-sister?"
"Yes, Jackie-boy, another invention. Implants in the soles of all your shoes that tattle on you like a little sister. Say, aren't those your shoes in the Bull ridge?" "Whoan..."

Popping Out and Popping Up: Two Steps with Professor Javier Boleyn

 Simultaneously, separated by 713 miles, "Finally!" and "What the..."

My blower sparked, but Dolly-girl wasn't there to tell me to pick it up. Thelma neither. "Hello, D'Mestiere Invstigations, Eastern Oregon Operations, whatsit?"

"Jackie-boy?" Whoan...

 "Professor Boleyn, how nice talk to you. It's been a while." "A while! Jackie-boy, you probably thought you'd given me the slip. Fortunately, the last time Bar-AM chipped you, she used the latest technology." "Bar-AM? That's been almost a year!" "Yes, and fortunately, she deployed the Boleyn Enterprises "Eye of Saint Steve" technology (® i-of-Steven, a Holy-owned subsidiary of It's Burning Hot Down Here, Inc., which, in turn, is owned by iSaint Steven Enterprises), a specially designed data recorder, not unlike those used on whales..." "Whoan" "...that when out of touch for 3 months, dissolves its way through blubber, floats to the surface, and transmits its data to a waiting satellite in the Boleyn Star Cluster. In your case, the recorder dissolved its way through LARD rather than blubber, but the idea is the same." "Whoan..."

 "Jackie-boy, your 'iofSS' activated today at  44°46'49.40"N..." "iofSS?" "Eye of Saint Steve, and 117°50'4.03"W. What in the name of Bill Nighy are you doing in DuckDown, Oregon?" "It's a long story, Professor..." "And, I'm sure, not a straightforward one." 'Needless to say, let's skip it. Suffice it to say that I've taken on a challenge that beats any you put forward." "Now wait just a range-allotment second, there, Jackie-boy. Hear me out and explain yourself."






"The iofSS burrowed its way though an estimated extra 10 pounds of LARD! today and reached the uplink. Preliminary analysis of the data show a particular propensity for Firestone Walker Union Jack..." "It's been on sale at Safeway..." "and apparently you've been their best customer. I continue. There's also the matter of Blue Diamond Smokehouse Almonds..." "Which I wash down with Diet Coke..." "when you are driving. Apparently you don't believe anything has calories when you are driving. WRONG, Jackie-boy!" "Whoan."

 "In addition, the embedded GPS transponder reports that in January of this year, you waddled 177.54 miles and in February, 133.63 miles." "Not, bad, eh?" "Compared to 262 miles and 251 miles respectively a year earlier? 67 and 53%, Jackie-boy!" "I hurt my knee." "Yes, that was recorded, on February 25. On the 24th, you were at 112 miles. Do you expect me to believe that you were going to waddle 139 miles in the last 4 days of the month? Come on, Jack!" "2012 was a Leap Year..." "COME ON JACK!"

 "Well, I did better so far in March, Professor." "True, Jack, as of March 2, you are at or below your average March, 2012 waddle when you were coming down with the Whooping Cough. I'm just telling you Jackie-boy, it's a slippery damned slope and I don't want to have to open the iSSWMD on you." "OK, what's that? I got the iSS but..." "Weapons of Mass Demeaning." "ROGER."

 "OK, Professor. It's not like I don't beat myself up every morning when I get on the scale. It's just that..." "Whoan." "Professor, you said, 'Whoan?'" "I did, Jackie-boy. If you only knew how many 2-Steppers back slid. Well, I suppose you could if you read my new book, "Sliding to Slovenliness: When 2-Steppers Reject Professor Javier Boleyn." "Whoan." "Wail."

"I promise I won't be one of them, Professor. I'm taking another turn around the block, past the stationery store..." "That's a nice touch for a town..." "...yes, isn't it--and I'll leave that LARD! behind, Professor, I promise." "I'll be watching..." "I know you will. Whoan!"

1 Step Forward, 2 Back: A Christmas Lecture from Professor Javier Boleyn

"Well, Fiora, that was a nice Xmas-eve waddle, if I say so myself. Sure, I didn't cover as many miles as I usually do, but hey, it's Xmas." "Actually, Jack, while Xmas can be rationalized since for some centuries, X was an accepted shorthand for Christ, with the X symbolizing a cross, these days people prefer the proper 'Christmas' over what's become ad-speak." "OK, I'll try and keep that in my bean, but I'm so used to Xmas..."

Just then that little gizmo that Fiora carries with her when she doesn't, which is about 95% of the time, started to make noise and a not-so-familiar face, coupled with a familiar voice, popped up on the screen. "Good evening Fiora.  Jackie-boy. I'd hoped to be able to take some well-deserved rest over this holiday season, but alas, the Professor's work is never done, thanks to the likes of you, Jackie-boy!." "Me? What do you mean, Professor? I've been behaving like nobody's business." "Well, certainly not like my business, I think you'll agree with me there." "C'mon, Professor, it's the holidays." "LARD! knows no holiday, Jack. Let's review the facts."




"Fact #1. You have actual LARD! in your refrigerator, as captured by the patented (of course) In-Door-Salad-Dressing-Rack-Cam (® iFrigidaire, a Holy-owned subsidiary of A Cold Day in Hell, Inc., which, in turn, is owned by iSaint Steven Enterprises). "Wait, I can explain! That was just a joke..." "Sure, Jackie-boy, a joke. It's more like a precipitate off of your LARD!-accumulating body!"  "What? What do you mean?" "ScalE-mail, Jackie, ScalE-mail. The reports have been flowing in. Combined with the reports from your GPS transponder, LARD! is up and miles are down.

"Fact #2. Your PIT tag has been activated at increasing numbers of taverns with increasing frequency." "PIT tag?" "Yes, PIT, Passive Integrated Transponder. Your chip, as it were. Although I had nothing to do with its invention--well, I suppose it's hard to say I had NOTHING to do with it since so many receive inspiration from me--I find it to be a valuable technology. Every time you cross the threshold of certain sorts of establishments, your presence is tallied. Numbers were climbing in BuckTown and there has been no tapering since you've returned to StumpTown." "Oh, boy, this is gonna get worse, I can tell..."



"Fact #3. The Cookie-Box-Cam..." "No, she didn't sell me out..." "...she did...reveals that you not only picked up the cookie box, but you opened it, and once opened, Pandora's Large Jar, or Πανδώρα πίθος, as I like to call it, apparently emptied itself down your accommodating gullet. This box was over-flowing with tasty treats. Now it's history." "Whoan!"



"Fact #4. Beer and potato chips do not comprise the 2-Steps that we know and love, Jackie-boy, unless it's 2-Steps to The Deep End: Losing the War on LARD!, a new book that I have penned under your name, which of course will become a testimony to what I do right and what YOU do wrong. It will be followed by my latest, A Life-line from LARD!: 2-Steps Back Saves the Day, by Professor Dr. Javier Boleyn." "Hey, what's with the Professor Doctor thing?" "Honorary degree from Harvard. While I have, of course, many honorary degrees, I've decided to use this one." "I'm sure it will sell more books." "Not as many as me saving you from your pitiful life will, Jackie-boy!"

"That's it Jackie-boy. The truth in Four acts, a composition based on facts by Professor Doctor Javier Boleyn. What have you to say?"  "What can I say, Doc? Prof? I'm back in the traces. Waddling towards fitness. War on LARD! It ain't over 'til the skinny guy sings. Now where are Bill and Bill when I need them? LARD! is all around me, and so my waistline grows..."