ACD REDUX: I came, I saw, I got thankful all over the place.

Thought I'd re-post an old article.

I'm resting my computer on my turkey belly. I will have to admit that, because of my added girth, typing has become more easier, as the keyboard softly touches the bottom of my man boobs. This, however, has brought me to one conclusion.

I must starve myself.

I must now commence on the self-loathing path that takes me to the "oh no my bones are showing, what's a carbohydrate, model diet". I must now prepare for the runway. I cannot wait to eat my first head of lettuce...my first lonely tomato...my first stick of carrot without the ranch...I must learn to love celery...I must learn to love green tea.

I must laxative myself. Maybe a colon cleansing? (Yes, I just said "colon cleansing"). That is probably the solution for I feel like I've got a Volkswagon in my gut. Or maybe I should just download Sarah Mclachlan on my IPod, meditate about Kate Moss and eat my finger.

So long pecan pie.

Goodbye potato salad.

You will be missed cranberry sauce.

And turkey...with your dressing, so moist and cornbready...you will be a fond memory.

But now my stomach yearns for 30 minutes a day on the eliptical. I must throw in a curl. I must hurl.

I must shave my head, shave my beard, put on my spandex riding shorts. I must, once again, hear an "ooh" and an "aah" from my girlfriend instead of a "Mom, I didn't know we were close to an ocean" from frightened little children. (I keep getting these voice mail messages from Paul Watson, "I love you, and I'm fighting for you.")

Instead of the behemoth I have become, I must now become a moth.

I will sweat and sweat until my glands run dry.

I will become emaciated. I'm putting a poster of Steven Tyler on my wall as inspiration. That crack abused look is my desire, for it's been so long since I've seen my ribs. Besides I like scarves anyway.

A diet of worms and sand will become my smorgasbord of appetite killing calories.

But hark...a heralded angel is calling me. I hear a jingle bell. The big, fat, replacement Jesus is yelling at me "HO, HO, HO."

Now I'm having visions of Thanksgiving the sequel...which is called Christmas.

More pecan pie.

Maybe the introduction of the heart killer ham.

More potato salad.

Sigh.

Can you say New Year's resolution?

Musings

Been awhile since I've posted an article here. I've been debating with myself, the only debate I can win, whether to start making little videos to post here. Haven't made up my mind yet.

Anyway, the debate I had with Scmit, which ended in September, was interesting...including the aftermath which played itself out on CARM. Scmit has endeared himself to...well...nobody actually. He seems to think that every debate he's been in, including ours, he has won. I think it crass to declare yourself a winner in a debate, even more so considering Scmit's abilities, or the lack thereof...a point which is regularly made for him at CARM. I will be reviewing portions of that debate which I feel I didn't touch adequately, because the word count wouldn't allow it, or because a point needs to be reiterated.

Recently James White debated Roger Perkins in Australia on the subject of the personal pre-existence of the Son. Mr. Perkins is another OP that should not debate, especially someone as experienced as Dr. White. You can download and listen to the debate for yourself here: http://www.hopechristianchurch.com.au/index.php?option=com_sermonspeaker&view=feed

Next week begins the holiday season so Happy Thanksgiving!