Okay...

Remember when I said I was gonna go to the gym on Wednesday?

Guess I lied.

My penance is to go tomorrow, come rain or shine.  Unless there's, like, tornadoes and shit.  Then my ass is stayin' home.

However, yesterday wasn't completely unproductive.

I shaved my head.  For breast cancer research.  My mom's a seven year survivor.

I've always wanted to do this.  Finally decided enough was enough when it came to having long locks.  Maintenance is a pain in the ass.

So tomorrow should be my first workout day since the shave.  I've never worked out bald.  Dunno where the sweat is gonna migrate.  But it's gonna be fun finding out.

Later.
-Justin

My Wizard of Oz Song

You know how it goes.  "If I Only Had..." whatever.  a brain, a heart, the nerve.

Everybody has their own version of the song.  Could be "if I only had some cash, "if I only had a car," "if I only had a filter between my brain and my mouth..."

I think I have two.

My first is "If I Only Could Get Laid."  One of the cornerstones of my comedy.  Actually performed this song once in my act.  Dunno if my female relatives are gonna be reading this blog or not, so I'll hold off on posting the lyrics for now.  But the lyrics do exist.  They have for, like, five years.  Prolonged virginity does strange things to your head(s).

My second one is probably, "If I Only Had No Taste Buds."

I'm an incredibly picky eater.  Like, horribly picky.

I like very very few vegetables.  Fruits I only like in smoothie and Pop Tart form.  That eliminates a good portion of the food groups right there.

It's a texture thing.  The flavor doesn't bother me, but the texture grosses me out.  The consistency just doesn't sit well with me.  A mouthful of banana is enough to send me into a gagging fit.

I've read somewhere that having problems with the texture of certain foods is actually a sign of OCD, which I firmly do believe I have.  To other people, though, it makes me look like an annoying, picky person.  I hate it.

So maybe my second song oughta be called "If I Only Could Enjoy the Texture of Fruits and Vegetables."  But that sounds like something Fall Out Boy would have written.

I get so self-conscious that I try not to eat in front of other people.  Comes from countless dumbasses making remarks about my meal choices...while theirs aren't so great, themselves.  Then comes the unsolicited diet advice.  Yes, I am trying to lose weight.  No, I do not wanna hear how your third cousin lost five pounds eating nothing but spinach and peaches for eight weeks.  Eat your Big Mac that you ordered with extra mayo and shut the fuck up.  When I want advice I'll ask for it.

Sorry.  Whenever it comes to the subject of food I get riled up.

Even had someone tell me that I deserved to be fat because I treated myself to a chicken tenders dinner before a performance.  What sounds like a one-off comment to you is something us fatties hear over and over every day...both from other people and in our own heads.

So next time you see someone eat, no matter what you think of their choice, zip it.

Okay.  Gotta take out the trash and go to bed.  Tomorrow's gonna be my second workout of the week.  I'm aiming for three a week.  Good night.

Later.

-Justin

Hi, Everybody!

Hello.  For those of you who don't know me, my name is Justin Kosch.  I'm a film student, TV salesman, and budding standup comedian.

I am also a caffeine addict, pizza aficionado, fried foodie, reality TV junkie, horror movie freak, Ace of Base loving virgin who has struggled with my weight since the first George Bush was in office.

Three years ago, I started college at 346 pounds.  And before you wiseasses get any remarks in, yes I was still able to fit in the desks.  Barely, but still able.

I wanted to use my freshman year in college as a new beginning.  I decided to join a gym, eat healthier, and finally lose all the excess weight.

After a year, I had lost forty pounds.  On the day I hit exactly 40, I decided to celebrate and conquer something I had always wanted to try: standup comedy.  And on September 4, 2008, a monster had been created.  That first laugh brought me into a new world that I have never wanted to leave.  Or some other sentimental bullshit.

By this time last year, I had hit my all-time low of 281 pounds.  That's 65 less than when I started for those of you who are sucky at math.

However, things suddenly changed.  I dunno whether it was the hard school year (since my dumbass chose to save all the hard classes for my associates until the end), or if I got complacent, but before I knew it I had gained a lot of it back.  I am not going to divulge how much just yet, because I'm not proud.  Either way, I knew if I didn't do something soon, I would have undone two years worth of work in no time.

So that's where Perro Sexivo comes in.

The name originated from an admittedly poor translation.  I typed Sexy Bitch into Altavista's Spanish translator and got Perra Attractiva.  Even though I finished four semesters of Spanish, my command of the language is very minimal.  But I knew I'd have to change it to Perro.  I started signing up for open mics with Perro Attractivo in parenthesis.  One night the MC called me Perro Sexivo and it stuck.  No, it's not my stage name, but it's what I call myself whenever I feel good.  Soy un perro sexivo.

I wanted to make a blog out of Perro Sexivo, because I am a strangely motivated person.  If I'm gonna do something just for me, I tend to put it off.  But if I know other people are involved somehow, I get results.  So I'm using this blog in the hopes that people will read it and want to hear updates.  And I'm not gonna say no.  Dammit.

I hope this blog manages to give me the motivation I somehow manage to refuse myself, and hope you all have a great time reading it, too.

Later.
-Justin