What's going on? It's Bill Burnett's time for the Monday morning podcast from Monday, November 23rd, 2015. What's going on? How?

What's up? Oh, Billy Redface. Oh, Billy Redcakes. Oh, fucking. What are you doing? Dushbag freckles here is, uh, integrate moody's on his.

For a dumbass, his first week and not doing shit. I'm not doing shit for the last week I already did it already composted a dream of not doing shit in this week. I'm not doing shit. Right.

Greatest fucking holiday of the year. Everybody talks about Christmas. People talking about flag day, a fucking Easter. I'm telling you this is the one you don't have to buy shit. Oh, you know, you just show up. You show up little corn, beef and cabbage, whatever, whatever your little family fucking dishes.

You show up. You smile. You do a couple of air kisses, you know, feed your fat fucking face and then you just slip into the liver. Right.

And watch the game. Sitting on the sofa and there's that other guy that socially fucking awkward.

Guy who hides an alcohol sitting in the lazy boy, you know, you guys are angled just enough that you can see each other in your peripheral, but you never say anything. You know, a couple of times you go to start the conversation.

And you see the lonely guy being excited, but then he fucks it up. You seem withdraw again. And you try to act like it didn't happen.

That's just the second quarter. All right. Anyways, I finally did my official way in today to see the damage I did. I was about buck 65 or something before I left to go to way back in September.

Right. I was trying to get down to 162. I got to 165. One day I just skipped rope and just sweated it out. I got to like 162 points something, but that's bullshit. Right. Got down to 165. Then I had a wedding week long family event.

And then right after that, I went to Texas for a week and then Toronto. And I came back for a few days. And then I went to DC. Then I came back for a few days, like a week.

And then I did that two week fucking tour of the Midwest came back for three days. Then I did the Philly run. Then I went to New York. And I did MSG. So in that time.

I knew I was putting on weight. I knew I was doing I knew what I couldn't I couldn't stop, right.

All right. Now before I started this whole thing, I was 187 pounds. I've gotten down to 165 and lost 22 fucking pounds. So the big question is Bill, you dumb fuck. After you did all that work, you stupid. How much did you give back this morning?

After weighing himself in September before all the festivity, about 165 pounds, I weighed myself this morning. Right when I woke up the most accurate weight from what I've read on the internet. So take that with a giant grain of salt and sugar.

176.8. Oh, Billy, what did you do?

I just remember my last night in New York, fucking hammered eating two slices of sausage pepperoni. And it wasn't even good. And after the first one, I was like, Jesus, this is so much shit on this. This feels like Chicago pizza with like nobody in there. Nobody in that right mind ever has more than one slice of deep dish pizza. You're just fucking.

You can't do it. You're out of your fucking mind. So anyways, yeah. So I'm pissed that I fucking went that hard, fucked it up that much. But I'm not. I didn't see the dreaded the one that really depresses me is when that second numbers and hate. So I'm going to try to do the impossible.

The unthinkable, Cleo, we just stop licking yourself. So damn loud. Hey, Cleo. Cleo. Yeah, you knock it off over there. I know you got to do what you got to do. You need a bath.

Anyways, the fuck was I talking about? Oh, I'm going to try to do the impossible. The unthinkable. There she goes, looking herself again. Good Lord. No shame whatsoever. I'm going to try to lose weight during the holiday months here.

I'm actually during the week of Thanksgiving. I'm trying to go. My goal is to be to do the three pounds that I was doing back in the summer drop three weeks. So that's 173.8 is what I need to be next Monday morning when I roll out of bed.

And so we'll see what happens. But here's a fucked up thing. I made three pies yesterday.

...