There are many tricks and mental shenanigans one might think of in order to give themselves strength in overcoming adversity. Sports psychologists are probably experts at this, and I often look to coaches for advice on how to rid my body of all this human fat. Evidence A: I subjected myself to a year long documentary about myself and all my ills.

Many women tend to use a particular article of clothing as a talisman in their weight loss quest- something they can reward themselves with once their target weight loss is complete. I have taken a hybrid approach to this sports/clothing methodology. I have found that mighty talisman which I think will enable me to achieve my weight loss dreams: The little black dress hanging on the wall of my closet is actually the ball-turret gun on a B-17 bomber- something which I am positive I couldn't currently fit into, but am using the dream of squeezing into one as inspiration.

My little black dress

There are many things about the ball-turret gun position that are just plain cool. You've got the two 50 caliber machine guns at your disposal. I'm not sure if you've ever heard a .50 caliber machine gun fired, but I can tell you- it's loud as crap (I recorded a whole bunch of machine gun fire for the awful movie "Jackal"). You've got pedal-powered rotation, and by pedal-powered I mean, you press a pedal and it spins. I'm sure you'd know which plane I was in if you were a civilian spotter- I'd be the one spinning around wildly with no enemy aircraft in sight.

There's the Millennium Falcon homage, Luke and Han climb into the top and bottom of the Millennium Falcon in what is totally the coolest part of all Star Wars movies- a ball-turret style laser piece. And there was even an obscure episode of Steven Speilberg's "Amazing Stories" where a ball-turret gunner was stuck in shot-up turret and the landing gear on the plane wasn't working either.

Other than being the guy who drives the back part of one of those long hook and ladder trucks, I can't think of any job that is cooler for guys than the ball-turret position. But, my body type being what it currently is, not only would I not be able to squeeze into the tiny glass dome, I wouldn't be allowed on a flight unless I could prove I would be willing to explode on impact after being dropped through the bomb bay doors.

 Now I'm not normally one for over the top political correctness, but if someone in the Senate were to pass a bill mandating larger ball-turrets, I'd probably hear about it. But I don't think that would actually ever happen, so I'm left to joyless trips to the local Air Show where I run my fingers along the turret's glass and think of what life without Sundrop would be like.

As many of you know, I have a severe and strange form of OCD. It relates to food and can cause unexplainable gastrointestinal phenomena such as the craving of gas-station "Dirty Dogs" and the unwillingness to eat food prepared by anyone visible other than my earth mom or earth wife.

Indeed, there is no limit to the curious behavior my OCD will cause, much of it pertaining to eating what most would consider the un-eatable. But there is a limit to the nastiness that I will eat. And the limit starts somewhere near the Taco Bell, especially when their meat tube is clogged.

In my travels, I have occasionally stolen a glance behind the counter at McDonald's or Wendy's to remark at the curious devices those who mass produce food employ. Many of them resemble the outrageous medical contraptions you might have seen in "The Road to Welville". They might reduce one of your out of balance "humors", or promote consistent ketchup delivery- it's hard to tell. I try not to look at people, just the devices. And although my unfamiliarity with the devices makes it difficult for me to link them directly to food, their clean stainless steel finish puts them in the category of innocuous.

"We can't make tacos right now... Meat tube's clogged..."

 

What do you do for stress management? Many people get angry or depressed. Others may take to alcohol or hit the gym to burn off some adrenaline. What does this APE-head do? I stop at the local BP and eat a hot dog for breakfast. Now don't go away thinking this is some $3.99 Nathan's all-beef hot dog. This is a genuine "Dirty Dog", meaning a multiple meat containing casing that costs less than .99 (US). Some reason, the casing is so thick that you have to sharpen your teeth to get casing puncture to occur.  Or else, you just bite down so hard that at some point the hot dog explodes in a delightful multiple meat pile-up in your mouth.

Nothing summarizes the idiocy of my OCD like this particularly destructive stress management technique. I don't like the way it tastes, I don't like the way it sits on rollers between hot-dog shaped "cheeseburger dogs" and hot-dog shaped "sausage breakfast burrito dogs". I don't like anything about it, but when the stress in my life is really high, it is the only thing that will get me through it.

 
Yeah he can fight, but can he floss?

 I have never seen the movie "Fight Club", but have read the book (sometimes the movies are significantly different than the book, in which case this analogy would not work), and in the book there's lots of self-destructive OCD going on. I could not finish the book the first time around, as it was just hitting to close to home. I haven't even been able to watch my TV show yet. But I have nothing but respect for "Cutters" and "Flossers", because you didn't see Brad Pitt running around with dental floss in Fight Club.

I thought I had nearly beaten the withdrawal symptoms. Yesterday I had no morning 12oz. Pepsi for the first time. By about 1pm the headaches and malaise (and complaining about them) got so bad my dear earth wife begged me to have a small soda so that I would shut up. I finally agreed and had a tiny amount of soda, probably about 7-8oz.

It helped for a little while, but last evening it got very bad again- so bad I felt like I might have to throw up. We went for a drive, looking for a new house, as we have been doing every Saturday for the last few weeks, and I couldn't find a Zip-Mart to buy a Pepsi or Sundrop. The headaches and malaise eventually went away and I made it through without caving. I was so proud of myself but figured I'd wake up Day 7 with an absolutely cracking headache. Not the case, surprisingly. I woke up with only a mild headache and think I may skip any aspirin to see what might happen.

I can't believe that quitting a seemingly innocuous drink that kids and adults the world over drink everyday can feel like giving up a heroin addiction. I'm not usually the one for big corporation conspiracy theories but doing this has been so hard it makes me wonder why these drinks are legal.

Anyways, I'm OK for now, and feel that I'm near the end of it. I don't really feel much better for now, but have noticed little things here and there which make me believe my body will thank me for this eventually.

Huzzah! 

Some of you may or may not know (and yet others may belong to a third category of null which is neither knowing or not knowing) that I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It is a stress-coping mechanism which for me involves the manipulation of food, toy figurine head alignment (TFHA- pronounced Tfha!), and the constant wearing of shorts.

I was the subject star of a 1 hour long documentary on the Discovery Health Channel inappropriately entitled "Ultimate Body Challenge: Forrest's Story". Inappropriate because there was little, if any slimming down that happened on the show. I was chosen for the documentary because I was the pickiest eater the Discovery people had ever met. They sent me round the town to the best fat care money could buy in hopes they could scare me straight (straight in this case is not referring to a scary prison visit meant to ensure one would abstain from knocking over the local Zip-Mart). The Duke Executive Health Center, the Duke Diet and Fitness Center, none of the usual suspects could make a lasting dent in the fat that had become my earth body. The producers became concerned I wasn't losing any weight.

Eventually, I was sent to the head of the Duke Eating Disorder program, where I met with a 4'8" 90 lb. bulldog named Dr. Nancy Zucker. She had spent nearly 15 minutes with me and said casually, "You have OCD. Like OCD really bad." She said I wasn't a "Supertaster", as I had expected, having counted nearly 30 taste buds in a 1cm diameter area (nearly 4 times the normal density). She said I wasn't "Picky" as I had expected, being able to name several foods I could eat that most people would find disgusting: Sundrop, Velveeta Cheese (raw), Velveeta Cheese + Bologna sandwich, and boiled peanuts (hot or cold).

 She said that I needed therapy and possibly medicine to begin to learn to deal effectively with my OCD. Although I was able (in a moment of madness) to eat some Soshimi (the real raw stuff) while I was on Celexa, a medicine they prescribed me, I think the therapy actually did more good... more long term good at least.

Since the show has aired, I have met many fans people who have watched the show that have realized they have some similar traits in the way they eat. One person had a friend who would only eat cake and Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches. This too was attributed to being Picky, but what we now know to be an extreme form of OCD. 

So I have created a name for these people, these sufferers of a strange food malady often referred to as being picky. I heretofore will refer to these similar earth creatures as APE-heads, APE cleverly being an acronym for A(dult) P(icky) E(aters). Head is added for marketing purposes. So, APE-heads, welcome to a place where you can feel welcome to describe, dissect and deconstruct this strange malady. I hope my life will serve as an inspiration to you and your good health. 

Ok, there are signs of abatement. I've taken no aspirin today, though I've had the 12oz can of Pepsi I've allowed myself this week. Tomorrow morning will be the last morning of the Pepsi. After that- no more soft drinks, ever I hope. I've had a slight nagging headache all day, but not enough to warrant taking medicine for it.

Yesterday, while we were trick-or-treating with my earth son, I found myself sprinting down the block twice- the apparent energy level in my "body" felt so high I just felt like running. I've also noticed some mild joint pains that I had grown accustomed to and attributed to fatness are now gone. I'm really liking the way I'm feeling without the Soft Drinks, but I'm still so accustomed to their taste that I struggle at mealtimes to drink water.

I'm feeling positive about the change, and I hope I can stick with it. The OceanSpray Cran-Grape Light® has definitely helped. Don't try the Food Lion generic brand- it stinks. But to all of my fans readers who are thinking of quitting the Evil Nectar Sun-Drop® or Pepsi® I say- You can do it. If I can do it, anyone can because I love soft drinks and stink at quitting. 

Today is day 3 in my siege. I'm quitting soft-drinks and this has been by far the worst day. I think the efficacy of Motrin and Tylenol have worn thin. I feel like I've been hit by a small train in my head, the backs of my arms, and my left sinus. Though I've been allowing myself one 12oz. can of Pepsi each morning, it still is nowhere near enough caffeine/sugar to keep my body from reacting.

I don't think the Nicorette helped at all, and I'm not really sure the Vivarin is doing anything either. I've been using these throbbing headaches and body tremors as an opportunity to focus and remind myself why I'm trying to quit this madness but they got so bad this afternoon I nearly headed towards the Zip-Mart in search of that evil nectar, Sun-drop.

For some reason, I think I know what it feels like to be on Fox's hit television show, COPS. I'm a worn out caffeine druggy who can't shake the habit and has to go to jail for going to the local gas station and picking up a 20oz of the good stuff. My shirt is ragged, my jeans are hanging off my body, and I can't sit still on the curb while the officer tries to get the story from the other guy. I'm hoping tomorrow will be easier.

Though I have never smoked a cigarette in my life, I am currently chewing half a piece of 2 gram Nicorette chewing gum, feeling kind of cool.

Today is a special day in the life of this alien. I am making a concerted effort to rid my life of the fat-inducing nectar you humans call "Soft-drinks" and that I call "Sun-Drop" or "Breakfast" and my earth-father calls "Co-cola", heavy emphasis on the "Co".  I have spent the last day preparing for this epic battle, laying the groundwork for a month long siege to break this addiction.

Formerly breakfast (Sundrop minus the water) 

I boiled the water out of an 8 ounce serving of Sundrop and nearly vomited trying to eat what remained. I have a bag of 56mg of sugar hanging on my desk now, a grim reminder of the amount of sugar in one 12oz can. I have been popping Motrin headache pills all day in an attempt to head off caffeine withdrawal symptoms. And for good measure, I'm chewing some Nicorette, figuring it couldn't hurt.

This afternoon I actually felt more hyper than if I had had a soft drink, as the blood-sugar crash that normally accompanied my afternoons was absent. But I noticed a positive change in my mood and overall energy level that I wouldn't have expected this early on. I will report back on this matter and let you know how it is progressing.