Friday, August 30, 2013

Not dead yet

Still here, reading y'all behind the scenes and just taking a break.  It's been nice.

I've been reading and researching and RESEARCHING the whole wheat thing.  Wheat and sugar.  And all I can say is, if you think it might help, give up wheat and sugar for let's say 2 weeks.  And see.

I know maybe it sounds all airy-fairy or hocus-pocus - but honestly, you aren't ADDING something.  Just taking something OUT for a while.  If it doesn't help, you can always go have a sammich or fix a box of mac & cheese.

I've become sort of fanatical about how incredible this has made me feel.  I went on a 7.5 mile bike ride yesterday!!  This from someone who had to struggle last summer to get off the couch.  Although, I was in Maryland and the humidity almost killed me...  but I was riding 7 miles every other day last summer.  AND hitting the driving range on the between days!  And I couldn't feel better, I still had to force myself outside, I was still achy and fat. 

From what I'm reading, wheat has the special ability to really hurt you.  It's been horribly genetically modified from our 'amber waves of grain' into 3 foot stubby stalks of hybrid 'fiber'.  The SAD (standard American diet) has been recommending high fiber/low fat for how long now?  And all of us are chugging along, TRYING to lose weight by eating fiber bars and frozen diet meals and multi-grain sandwiches and munching on wheat thin crackers and low fat cottage cheese and it did not work for me, what about you?  How is that diet going?

I remember writing a post about how I couldn't lose weight on a 1200 calorie a day diet and I was SO PISSED!  Here, it's right here and jeebus.  I have been trying to lose this weight following the advice of doctors and magazines and BULLSHIT for - well, since 2006 at least!

I WEIGH LESS THAN I HAVE SINCE 2006

I had STRUGGLED to get this thin, this was my step-daughter's wedding, 2009.  I was about 160 pounds here.
 
And it started fucking falling off of me when I quit eating wheat.  Now, granted, I quit eating sugar too.  Here is a list of what I don't eat:

sugar
sucrose
fructose
high fructose corn syrup
corn
potatoes
wheat
any grains whatsoever
no fruit whatsoever.  NONE.
pasta
rice
crackers/pretzels/bruschetta
beans
peanuts
canola oil (rapeseed oil, it's HORRIFYING)

Here's what I DO eat
meat
steak
ribs
butter
olive oil
avocados
eggs (sometimes 4 a day)
chicken
sashimi (raw fish uh mah gah so delicious)
bacon
bacon cheeseburgers (sans bun)
all veggies, sometimes raw, sometimes sautéed in butter/olive oil

Here's what has improved:
weight:  down 29 pounds since June 20, 2013.  just under 30 pounds in 2 months.
inches:  25.5 inches lost over my body.  TWENTY FIVE AND A HALF.
JEFF has lost 22 pounds by proxy - he eats what I eat, lol.  And he drinks beer every single day (carbs)
I sleep
My energy is KAPOW
I don't HURT in my joints
no gout attacks
sex drive is back (Jeff nods vigorously)
Memory is back
Give-a Crap is back
Happy IS BACK
Hardly ever hungry. 
Hypoglycemic attacks GONE

Look.  Like I said.  Just try it.  All you're doing is removing something from your diet.  I'm not saying to take a supplement, or a pill, or buy a book or join a cult.  And it's easier than you think.

Jeff and I in 2002

Jeff and I in 2011
 
The difference in the two pictures above is fucking horrifying.  I was so healthy and happy in the first one.  I remember that second picture - in Sweden.  I felt like crap, I was SO FAT and ugh.  I wanted to FEEL healthy again, besides the vanity of wanting to be smaller.
December 2012 - no smaller even though I'd been trying like hell

READ.  read read read.  I've given you links, I will give you more.  YOU decide.  But it seems to me that the link between Monsanto and big agriculture and the US Govt food pyramid and obesity in this country and the rise of things like celiacs and asthma and skin rashes and inflammation, and rheumatoid arthritis, and PCOS and thyroid issues and hormone imbalance and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome - it all seems so fucking fishy to me.

I worked in the clinical trials industry.  I'VE heard first hand stories about all this crap.  And I can't imagine that taking more chemicals in the form of "medicine" is the way to go, when it would be so much easier to just TRY and remove a substance from our diets.

Do you know what causes diabetes?  Yes, insulin imbalance.  What spikes insulin?  Glucose.  What turns to glucose in your system the fastest?  WHEAT.  What doesn't spike insulin?  Protein.  http://www.marksdailyapple.com/diabetes/#axzz2dTwYv6ke

http://www.nffc.net/Issues/Corporate%20Control/USDA%20INC.pdf <-- PDF

http://www.marksdailyapple.com/definitive-guide-grains/#axzz2dTaUhwX1

http://www.marksdailyapple.com/simple-complex-carbohydrates/#axzz2dTaUhwX1

(three of the above links take you to MDA, but the articles link outside sources and I am not going to reinvent the wheel.  That Mark Sisson guy is pretty smart.  he also has a lot of detractors on the net - please do your own research)

http://www.wheatbellyblog.com/ I have his book.  It's written sort of badly, but his links are good and the info on the blog is good.  I just find the book sort of juvenile.

http://www.organicconsumers.org/monsanto/ - Monsanto has to be one of the most horrifying corporations I have ever heard of.  Did you know that any farmer who is government subsidized (which ones aren't?  ORGANIC FARMERS) are contracted to buy their seeds through Monsanto or another same-type organization?  The seeds these companies provide will not propagate.  Which means a farmer cannot harvest their own seeds for the next growing cycle.  They HAVE TO BUY more seeds from the same company, or lose the subsidy (losing the farm, so to speak).  Monsanto has genetically engineered the seeds to not reproduce.  They can come and take a DNA sample of the crop and see if the plant was grown from a Monsanto seed.  Wheat, corn, soy - HAHAHA you thought soy was the new protein??  It's all GMO and kind of a frankenplant.  And not good for you.  Remember how Pa Ingalls would buy seeds?  Or any story from that time, there was a 'seed man' coming around in a wagon, selling corn or wheat seeds?  Now it's Monsanto.  The same people who bring you Round Up poison.

OH HEY - the wheat is also called 'Round Up Ready'!  Cos it's genetically modified to be able to be sprayed with Round Up for bugs and not die!  How convenient for the maker of the seed and also the spray. 

What about the school cafeteria menus?  government schools!  It's state run, remember, just like Russia.  Pizza.  Spaghetti.  Oh, just look it up, you can find your kid or grandkid's school menu online.

My own kid suffered HORRIBLY from asthma.  Like, Mike was in the urgent care just about every weekend.  He also has hideous dermatitis rash on his skin, and as a kid it was so bad.  I was poor.  We ate a lot of mac & cheese and spaghetti and rice and fish sticks and hot dogs and frozen veggies.  I had no idea.  regrets?  Yeah, I got 'em.

http://www.marksdailyapple.com/concentrated-animal-feeding-operations/#axzz2dTh8Ke5z  Again with the MDA website, but follow the links.  We all know how horrifying the animal industry is.  Now I am researching a grass-fed organic farm here in Temecula where I can buy chickens that actually eat bugs the way they are supposed to, that scratch and feed in the grass naturally.  Cows that eat fucking GRASS.  I'm also going to start my dogs on all protein, since dogs don't need fucking CORN (read the ingredients on your pet food).

I eat almost ALL protein.  I eat fat.  Real, grassfed butter.  Bacon (uncured).  I'm lucky that we have no kids at home anymore, so we can still spend the same on our food budget and get better stuff.  But just cutting out wheat is SIMPLE.  It costs LESS.  I am making a dr appt and I will post my numbers when I get them.  Like my cholesterol and blood pressure and all that - but I'll betcha a hundred bucks they all GO DOWN.  Yes, even while I'm eating eggs (the whole thing, Omega 3's baby!) and steak and (healthy) fats.

And you will eat less.  You will spend less because you will eat less.  Because you wont be hungry every 2 hours.  (however, you will cook more...)
158 pounds, August 22, 2013.
 
 

Friday, August 23, 2013

Behind the scenes

I've been sick and exhausted and fat for a long time - since a hysterectomy threw me into menopause about 8 years ago, I've been suffering.  The black hole of depression almost did me in.  For the last 5 years I've been searching and looking for a way out.

I went to doctors hoping for a diagnosis and a pill of some kind that would help.  Maybe hormones.  I also thought I had fibromyalgia or chronic fatigue symdrome.  TW put me onto the clue that my thyroid may be messed up.  But all my tests came back 'within normal ranges' and I didn't REALLY want to take any more chemicals anyway.  I was depressed and just felt sick and I ached and I was exhausted and it was ugly.

Before menopause I was always active, always fairly healthy (barring drugs and alcohol HA HA so not funny).  But I was always happy in my own skin. 
This is the picture I submitted to the online dating site where I met Jeff, it was 2002 and I was 145 pounds
 
Menopause threw every one of my systems into acute distress.  Hormones - yes yes, estrogen, testosterone, but ALSO insulin and adrenaline and thyroid function.  It all went south and I don't know if you've been there, but I could tell my body was fighting something.  I felt poisoned and just OFF.  I decided to tackle these issues from a nutritional standpoint.  Something I was putting into my body was killing me.  I researched the holy fuck out of my symptoms - not just on medical sites, but also on forums and personal blogs of people who had actually had the same symptoms and their data on repairing their bodies.  End-user data, my favorite kind.  Because I do not trust the FDA.

My research all led to the same place.  And, I just two months ago quit eating ALL forms of sugar.  ALL of it.  Anything that my body turns into glucose (besides vegetables).  I no longer eat bread.  Or pasta.  Or rice.  Or any kind of grains whatsoever.  No starches - no beans or corn or potatoes.

Within one week my body felt better.  I was sleeping better.  In a month I stopped having hot flashes.  My skin is better.  My eyes are brighter - my energy is through the roof.  I walk at least 2 miles a day, more often I do 3 or 4 miles a day. 

Changing what I was putting into my body has been transformative.  In two months I have done this:

No, it isn't difficult.  If you ate a tomato and that tomato gave you painful hives, you would have no problem not eating tomatoes again.  Sugar (glucose) causes unbearable inflammation in my system.  Grains/pasta cause stomach cramps, bloating and gas (you're welcome).  I eat protein and veggies.  I am at almost zero carbs per day, I would say less than 50 grams, and that includes ketchup and the 1/3 of a dark chocolate bar after dinner (what??). 

Jeff and I in Sweden, 2011 FAT FAT FAT
 
Jeff and I when we started dating, 2002 (big yards of beer)
 
It isn't just about the weight.  Let's face it - I'm 52 years old, I'm not going to be buying a bikini or trying out for a Real Housewives show.  I'll tell you what the best part is.  My body has stopped fighting itself.  I'm CALM.  My brain is MUCH calmer.  My depression is so lifted that I'm thinking of talking to my doc about weaning off the Welbutrin.  I'm not all bloated and inflamed and there are no more aches and pains (other than you know, bad knees and hips).  I'm not fucking exhausted all the time.


 

When I say I eat protein and veggies, ha - I'm not talking a boiled chicken breast and lettuce.  I eat sashimi.  Bacon cheeseburgers with no bun, but more avocado please.  Tri tip steak with asparagus or Brussels sprouts.  If we go out to dinner, I just ask for the steak & veggies, hold the tater.  I can't even begin to describe how I don't feel deprived.  Because starches/grains cause me so much distress, it's easy to not eat any of it.  I'm planning on going to brunch this weekend and getting eggs benedict.  Just, no bread.

If you want to research this for yourself, I can give you some starting links:
Mark Sisson's 'Definitive Guide to Grains'
The website the above link takes you to is CHOCK full of info.  But you must do your own research.  Use the search feature on that website, but also GTS! (Google that shit) - nobody can find your answer but YOU.
The book 'Wheatbelly' - grains are creepy stuff

If you are suffering, keep researching.  Keep looking.  My answer may not be YOUR answer.  Don't stop trying. 

Monday, August 19, 2013

I just don't feel like writing right now

I've been staying away from my blog for a while.  Q did a post about the same thing, how it's the opposite of FUN for us to dig into our psyches and present you with the mélange of flavors of abuse from our childhoods.

It's actually exhausting and ugly and we (none of us) like it.  We just have to lance the boil every once in a while, let off the pressure.  I just wanted a break.

The next portion of the story was already written, anyway - here, at this link for The Scapegoat at 13.  I need to insert the SILVER TOOTH incident, but essentially the story is complete so far.

What people don't understand - and you know, I am GLAD people don't understand.  That means they didn't live with the abuse - they have no idea, and really, GOOD.  I'm glad there are families who don't/didn't participate in this bullshit.

But what you don't understand is that what we suffered under was a huge, heave dose of mind control.  The military couldn't have done it better.  Look up the experiments conducted under the name MK Ultra - that's what we got.  We got our brains shattered with fear and uncertainty, and then up turned down and day turned into night and we had to believe in order to survive.  We had to create our own reality to survive.  With the broken mind of a child.  welcome to hell.

We had to de-program ourselves.  It took/takes a lifetime.  Do not think for one minute we are whining and puling about not getting the right gift at Christmas.  We are talking about (for example) seeing a gift.  getting handed the present! eyes light up, heart pounds, it's CHRISTMAS!  Then we are *slammed* in the face with that gift.  While the Nat King Cole record continues to play, the lights twinkling softly in the background, we are getting slapped and slammed with the present.  Then the present is shredded and destroyed in front of our sobbing self, and we are told it was our own fault since our hair wasn't brushed to the correct side of our heads.  The rest of the family goes on with presents and laughing and happy day, while we are left stunned, broken, freaked out, with a destroyed present in front of us.  IT WAS OUR FAULT, we believe it!  but, we don't believe it, because *huh*?  but they said it was, it must be.  Evidently hair brushing is an offense up there with rape and arson. 

Happy Fucking Christmas, assholes.  YES.  we are whining about not getting the right gift.  your understanding of the problem is spot on, as usual.

go away.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Living in fear and stress as an ACoN

The way I grew up - at the bottom of the food chain, and decidedly outside the circle, had an impact on me that has never really faded.  Even in Florida, when I was just a baby up to 5 or 6 years old, all of my memories have me being on the outside, observing things.  I was never in the middle of the action, or rarely so.  Things weren't happening AROUND me, noise and fun surrounding me, I was observing them from the side.  Outside looking in.  Muted sounds.  Like a scientist taking notes on another species.  I've written about some of it here.

I do not remember being held, or cuddled, or read to.  I remember my father getting VERY angry at me one Christmas because I asked 'is that all' when presents were over.  I was 3?  4?  He angrily dumped the parts of a metal scooter out of a box held high above me - they did not land on me but the LOUD *clanking* scared the crap out of me.  He didn't like me even then.  He had a horrible face that day.  I didn't know who he was.  I guess he was back for an Xmas morning?  Need to ask about that.  But see, it was my fault - I had been GREEDY.  And UNGRATEFUL.  I was the dirty ugly child, the one who ruined everything.

Once in California, pulled from Florida and the life I had led since birth, I was absolutely cut from the new herd.  I didn't know ANYBODY, all of these people were strange to me and I had never even heard of them.  I was alone, isolated, degraded, made fun of, yelled at, punished, teased - it never ended.  I lived in a state of constant fear and stress.  I was 6.  I thought about killing myself a lot.

I never, ever questioned my existence or the changes.  I just accepted that my body was now in THIS weird place, with these new people.  It was so easy for me to let go of Florida.  Like I was used to being 'beamed' from one location to another with no context, no knowledge.  *shrug* I'm here now.  very fucking weird for a kid.

People talk about the fight-or-flight thing.  But there is another option.  FREEZE.  Like the rabbits in the book Watership Down, one can also go 'tharn' - you just freeze and your brain loses all input.  Goes blank.  Like the Blue Screen of Death.  For me, it was a static noise and an inability to move my limbs.  I could not think.  I could not talk.  When confronted in a stressful situation, I went elsewhere in my head.  There are huge chunks of memories gone, incomplete scenes (like that camping bathroom episode, I cannot remember what happened once I was dragged back to the camper).  Somewhere, somehow, I learned to shut the fuck down and all systems went on some kind of disassociation vacation.  I never un-learned this defense mechanism.  It went on to own me.

Things that got yelled at me with exhausting regularity:

"you're a liar!"
"You're a sneak"
"You're so lazy!"
"We could get a monkey to do what you do around here!"

I was whipped on the back of the legs with my dad's belts.  I was the only one who ever got hit.  I got thrown out of bed and into the closet doors in the middle of the night from a dead sleep.  I got my face mashed down into my food at the table because I wasn't eating fast enough.  I had to eat at the counter, isolated away from the rest of the family because I didn't do it right.  On every vacation I got in trouble and grounded so that I was isolated from fun outings and had to stand behind a fence or off to the side and watch the others.  I lived in a constant state of fear and stress.  My sensors were on overload, an attack could come at any time.  You're 6, 8, and you had better be ready.  Going in your room was no solace, there was no place to hide.  Hearing anybody yell anything remotely similar to my name causes my stomach to clench and my head to start shutting down.  STILL.  At 52 years old.  If I hear a dad, a random dad, yelling at his kid named Tracy or Stacy because that rhymes with Casey - I am immediately back to that house, my childhood, and terror.

The smell of cigar smoke can send me to the same place.

I have learned to calm myself quickly, in these cases, and my heart ratchets back down in a matter of seconds.  But it still happens.  I WAS TRAINED.  Mind-control is a very easy thing to accomplish for a narc.  We are mind-fucked and believe what they tell us either in words or actions.  I WAS AN UGLY WORTHLESS STUPID INCOMPETENT CHILD.  I believed those words for the next 45 years. 

And the other sisters?  There was no way to save me.  they were saving themselves.  See, dad would use the excuse of my (made the fuck up) transgressions as a reason he was angry and why the family was having a bad time.  The sisters couldn't understand why I just didn't get in trouble, stop doing those things!  But what they didn't see, in keeping their own heads down, was that I had done nothing.  I had been set up, every time.  Even if they had done the exact same thing, the reaction would have been NOT angry.  They couldn't understand why I always got in trouble.  Neither could I.  That is what is known as MIND CONTROL and Mind Fuckery and it. was. effective.  I had already realized that I got in trouble because I was a horrible, ugly, worthless, idiot of a kid who didn't deserve to be with the family.  I was a shit stain, and no wonder I was an outcast.  SEE HOW THAT WORKS?

I would sit for hours in my bed and I don't remember doing anything.  Maybe reading, once I learned to read.  Alice in Wonderland over and over and over.  It terrified me, it was strange, I liked it.

It never occurred to me to like, clean my room.  I simply didn't see it, didn't notice it.  I shut down.  There is nothing beyond this disassociated bubble I have created, like the 'nothing' in The Neverending Story (yes, I relate to stories quite a lot.  They saved me as a child.)  Why clean my room when I want to be dead.  And I want my parents dead.  I did have chores to do each day - and I will tell the truth here.  I usually forgot to do them.  I was always saying 'I forgot!'.  I know how frustrating that is as a parent, Mike went through that stage.  I can't tell you why I forgot so much.  They were the same chores every week, like sweep the patio on Thursday, bathroom on Tuesday, etc.  I just forgot.  I was living with my head inside a ringing bell all the time.  I escaped into my fantasy world, my own private world - and I didn't see or remember the chores.  I guess I really was stupid.  I guess they really COULD have gotten a donkey to do what I did around the house.  See how that goes?

By the time I went to school I was so used to being on the outside that I automatically put myself there.  I was the only kid who could read in 1st grade, but I also got in trouble for hiding under my sweater at my desk a lot.  I have no idea if I played at recess, I probably did.  The teacher thought I was strange and singled me out for it.  I wasn't allowed (by my parents) to bring Valentines to school unless I made them.  BY MYSELF.  They refused to buy store-bought valentines for me to sign.  So I tried making some.  And I saw how awful they looked so I threw it all away (I mean, 30 kids!  I was fucking 6 with glue and paper, and no help.  I mean, the 'parents' were in another room for the evening - 'here's the crap you need, go for it' I didn't know how big to make them, how to cut a heart, just one took me an hour, so then the whole pile turned into punishment, something so far from fun...  so I showed up at school with nothing, with my head down in shame.  The fact that the other kids still gave ME valentines made my head spin.  I figured I was going to be sitting this party out.  And it made me so grateful for the attention.  And do you see?  That overly anxious GRATEFUL WAGGY TAIL singled me out as weird even further.  And that became another issue for me, inappropriate gratitude for the smallest action from someone else.  It marked me as subservient and a victim for bullying.  And then I don't remember anything until 4th grade. 

My point here is that I was so stressed, so freaked out all the time, I was learning to live in panic mode.  The red button was always pushed, the sirens and alarms were always going off in my head, and unless I was ALONE (like walking home from school) I was on guard.  And I didn't do it right, I always got blindsided, I got in trouble anyway.  Praying for my parents to die in a car crash didn't seem to come true. 
Me, 6-years old.  (my grandmother from Iowa is hugging me, my step-mother's mom, another person who could have been the queen of England for all I knew) Notice my clothes - thrashed, and bought in the boys department.  Notice my fucked up hair.  Boys jeans and shoes.  But oh hey!  a barette.  Those things sure do come popping out when there is a camera nearby.  Other than the barette, this is what I looked like all the time.  My hair stuck out to the sides like that in a thin-hair-dry-frizzy way, the other kids called me 'roof-head'.  Among other things.

I changed schools in 5th grade because I tested high enough on an IQ test to go to the accelerated school.  New school, new kids, who had been together all year, I'm new and outside even more.  I have no social skills.  These are 5th graders.  Kids have personalities now - they have groups and strengths and clothing preferences.  I had none of that.  I didn't know where the bathrooms were, the classrooms could be opened wide for two teachers to teach at a time - it was brand new and very progressive and WAY out of my league.  I may have been 'smart' but I was a terrified bunny - no social skills whatsoever.

I think telling you I was ignored by my family is maybe like saying the grand canyon is deep.  You cannot know.  I had had no voice for so long I didn't know how to express my opinion, and even doing so would merit abuse of some kind.  My hair.  My clothes.  I was WEIRD and marked from it.  It was inside me, what with the fear and stress, and with no social skills - I didn't know how to talk to anyone, how to have a friend or be a friend.  Or how to speak to teachers.  I was smart and read books WAY past my age level and even though I understood the words, I had no way to grasp the adult concepts, nowhere to file them - I had a vocabulary and comprehension of ideas but I couldn't talk about lunch boxes (weren't allowed to have one) or Twinkies (weren't allowed to eat them) I was dirty and not dressed right (the days when girls had their hair braided before school!  boys wore tucked in shirts!) and I had to bring SOUP to school for lunch, not a PBJ - I was practically a walking Asperger's child before anyone knew what that was.  Anyone remember Boo Radley from 'To Kill A Mockingbird?  Lisa Loopner from 'Saturday Night Live'?  Yeah, but without Todd.   
Lisa Loopner (Gilda Radner), social outcast

I was wretched and fumbling and scared and home was where the abuse was, school was an endurance test and I didn't understand any of it, except the parts where they read to us the series of 'The Black Caldron', that was pretty awesome.  Health class?  teaching us to wash?  wha...?  I didn't even tell my family I almost got RAPED.  Why would I ask them about washing my face?  There were friends, a couple of kids who SAW me and one of whom I am still friends with to this day (a reconnect thanks to FB).  Her parents, god love them, they saw what a basket case I was.  They invited me over anyway.  There was a boy.  Byron Kemper.  We knew each other through high school and beyond.  We became lovers and best friends.  HE DIED when we were 25, the rat bastard. 

The principal of that school met with my parents and they all decided to hold me back a grade, because my social skills were so far behind.  I got held back in 5th grade.

All the people I had been in school with, who already thought I was so weird, were now 6th graders ahead of me.  I had ALL NEW KIDS again to get to know, and I knew they were younger than me and oh my jesus, that was the kick in the teeth to my feeling like I was outside.  I never, ever, regained any ground in being an outcast.  I was pointed at.  I was so. fucking. miserable.  Those ow 6th graders who had been my classmates went on through Jr. Hi and High School knowing me as The Weird Girl Who Failed 5th Grade.  I mean, I didn't fail, but why else do people think you got held back?
Look how comfortable I look.  "Please let me die."

My 'parents' never asked how it was going.  If they had, I would have replied 'fine'.  Because, what?  what else is there but to go to school, the place where ALL YOUR PEER TIME IS, and put on the yoke of the Weird Wagon and just pull it all day, every day.  I played by myself.  I made up games.  I told inappropriate jokes I had heard at the dinner table.  I didn't do my homework because I didn't understand it and I wasn't going to ask for help, we were expected to work in our bedrooms alone on our own time schedule, it was our responsibility don't EVER ask questions.  I knew answers to odd questions and could talk to grown ups about say, going to the opera, but I couldn't talk about normal kids stuff because what in the fuck is normal kid stuff?  Oh man.  A sit-com couldn't have this much weirdness in it.

Do any of you know a comedian named Christopher Titus?  Mike loves him.  I cannot listen to him, it makes me a sobbing, crying mess.  His humor comes from his child abuse.  NO.

And I haven't even gotten to Jr. Hi yet.  Fuck me.