Fats That Kill, Fats That Heal

Good Morning,

My name is Steven M. Adami and I will be running Robert's blog today. As you may have noticed, I've made a few changes that I feel better reflect Bob's vision and inner-turmoil.Oh, this turmoil goes beyond simple gastro-intestinal distress. Bob's a sick man. I should know. I was his roommate in college and I've witnessed firsthand the path of destruction he's woven in the lives of others.

Jerk.

But, enough about Bob. Let's discuss an issue that I know is burning through your minds like Oprah at a buffet.

Me.

Before I open up this post to questions, I've prepared a statement. *Ahem*

Bob called me this morning before I had to go to work and instructed me to post something on his blog. When I asked if I had free reign, he laughed (realizing his folly at trusting me), and said, "Yup." Thank you.

I only have a few minutes left before I have to go to work and I want you to know that I skipped my morning shower in order to grant myself the time to post on this blog.

I am not a great man, although many have fallen to my feet and said as much. I'm a simple man. I can't do math and numbers hurt my brain.

I do not, nor have I at any time, taken drugs. Can you imagine what would come out of my mouth if I did? Madness.





















The irony here is that I work at an elementary school with K-2 age kids. If I had more time, I would put more thought into what I'm doing and saying, but since I'm short on time, this post is just a stream of inane ramblings and whatever pops into my head I end up posting.

Please take the time to comment on how much you love me and want Robert to bring me back as a guest blogger. I know I come across as a little goofy and odd, but I just use this as a shield to hide my insecurities and fears. If you do, I promise I'll put more time and effort into the post.

If not. Whatever. I wrote down Bob's password, so I might just pop back in if he pisses me off.