I really hate those clueless bastards who got off scot-free with this surgery.  Not one single damn complication or hiccup.  Oh and I dunno, they lost all their weight in the first six months.  These drooling rejects honestly believe that complications and lack of weight loss must be the entire fault of the patient.  Yeah that gal who had the staple misfire and consequently had her spleen removed -- totally her fault.  Jessica O., totally her fault that she's dead.

Ya know before Jessica O. died, most people on that board hated her.  Her posts were deleted constantly; can't have someone tellin the dark side of this surgery that would be bad for business.  Then oops, she died and it was suddenly, "We're all going to miss her so much."   Hypocritical nitwits and sidewinders such as the above mentioned should have a pick axe driven into their skull, unfortunately it wouldn't cause any permanent damage.

When I rule the world I'm gonna force all the stupid people to wear shock collars (Now obviously this won't include anyone with a serious injury or learning disability; they have an excuse.  And guess what?  Quite often they possess more common sense than you're average person.  My cousin Amy suffers from a small learning disability thanks to an overdose from a nurse when she was a baby, and I swear that gurl is wittier and more savvy than most the people I ever met.)

So anyways, back to shock collars:  Now I understand that not everyone can be smart, but I’m really weary of blatantly stupid phrases gushing out of the masses’ mouth.  So every time something stupid is said; ZAP!  Now unlike Pavlov’s dog theory, this isn’t going to help an individual become more intelligent.  Instead they all become sniveling, nervous lil weaklings who wet their pants often, and I find that quite entertaining.

On the left we have a toy affectionately named Gay Buffalo.  On the right we have a catnip filled George W. Bush doll.

  

This search often lands folks on my site, so let me clarify:  BrokeBack Mountain is supposed to take place in Wyoming, but if the sweeping scenery in the backdrop of the film seemed lush and breathtaking then it couldn’t have possibly been filmed in Wyoming.

Wyoming has that rare dismal, suicidal quality that can also be found in Nevada, Western Texas and most of Oklahoma

It seems in this day and age folks just don’t have time to talk in full sentences, and they certainly ain’t even gonna bother with typing out entire words.  

When I first came across a post about Connie Jackson, it said she was gonna be on DHC.  Was that one of the home shopping networks?  There’s a line of beauty products made with olive oil that goes by that name.  I finally had to click on the article to figure out what the hell she was talking about.

A few weeks ago everybody was wishing me a happy MLK day.  I thought it was a new holiday celebrating milk.  Come to find out they were abbreviating Martin Luther King Day.  So when asked how I celebrated MLK day I replied, “I drank some chocolate milk.”

I miss words.  Today’s broken and severely shortened English just manages to confuse the hell outta me.  It’s like some cryptic Morse Code that noone’s bothered to share with me.  And if I’m confused, just imagine what it must be like for a foreigner.  Maybe I should write a book: Talking to Americans for Dummies.

It took me a month to get my Upper GI results faxed to the surgeon’s office.  I must have called at least a dozen times:  Gave them all the information, blah blah blah and, “Ok, we’ll get that right out.” Or, “I’ll fax that off to ‘em right now.”  And nothing.  In fact it was made extremely clear that the results had to be faxed to the surgeon’s office in Fresno.  They even bothered to make a copy of this request for their records.

Salinas Valley Imaging Center is notorious for communication breakdown.  You have to ask everyone you meet from the doctor to the janitor, to please send the results to my physician, and in most cases that still doesn’t work.  

So what the hell am I supposed to do?  The office gal in Fresno told me to just keep trying and tell ‘em it’s important.  Well I’ve been doing that and I’m a lil tired of trying; this approach is clearly not working.  Then I thought of a plan and wrote down my lil spiel so I wouldn’t falter halfway into the conversation.

Here’s what I said:

Hi there!  My name is Erica and I work for the Advanced Bariatric Center over in Fresno for Dr. Felix and Dr. Swartz.  One of our patients Elizabeth Brooke Lee had an Upper GI performed on December the 6th at your office, and it’s imperative we receive those results so that Dr. Swartz may determine what options are best for her and that the patient can continue in her quest for surgery. 

Our fax number is area code 559-446-6288  and that’s attention to Erica.

Not ten minutes later Erica called me to say they just faxed the results over.  I was rather proud of myself.

Stanford university is currently looking for volunteers to test a new vaccine for the Avian Flu.  Since a vaccination is basically a form of the virus itself; doesn't that make the vaccinated individual a carrier?

I read an article in the National Geographic that wasn't peppered with fear and despair; just facts.   Ya learn something new every day.  The Spanish Influenza outbreak in 1918 didn't actually originate in Spain, nor did it originate from a swine as some often assumed.  It was just another damn bird.  Turns out we have the birds to thank for our many strains of influenza.  So suddenly calling this the Bird Flu is just absurd.

Anyways, so far the only way people have managed to contract the deadly virus is to get bitten, eat raw duck blood pudding (which is a delicacy), suck the blood out of a rooster's throat during a cock fight or just in your lil hut with ducks and chickens roaming about and crapping occasionally.  For many Asian third world countries, poultry is often a famlies' lively hood.

But once contracted by a human the virus can mutate and sometimes may pass to another human.  So besides biting the head off a chicken; birds needs a conduit in order to mutate and pass the virus on.  The bad part is not a person dying from this virus.  Yes it's sad and a terrible loss, but once the host dies, so does the virus.  It's the people who caught this virus and survived.  They are now a carrier.

Think about it:  We are all carriers of the 1918 Influenza outbreak.  Once in awhile it mutates and forms one helluva annoying flu season.  And no time machine for you -- travel back into the past (Oh let's say the Middle Ages), and suddenly The Black Plague is the least of their problems, but with everybody dying they might offer to crown you king.

*cough* I actually haven't been to the dentist for ten of your Earth years.  It's not a fear of guys in white smocks holding a drill; I just lost my insurance and then we moved.  I also *cough* wasn't interested at the time in getting my impacted wisdom teeth removed.  But lately my teeth have hurt like hell and have been so bloody sensitive I can't stand it.

You see *cough* I've never been very enthusiastic about dental hygiene, and why should I be?  I don’t’ see a line of handsome men with bulging wallets lined up to stick their tongue down my throat.  So between that and the overwhelming need as a child to do the opposite of what I was told…  Well you get the picture.

Ok, well a few nights ago I noticed some tiny lil brown slits onna few teeth up near my gums.  Oh bugger more cavities.  Actually no, according to Google and dentists’ websites:  My gums have receded and that’s the root showing.  Anyway I spent the next couple days totally freaking out; just sure I’d end up with dentures at 28.  And the really annoying bit is that I’m the only one to blame – it’s so much easier when you can blame somebody else.

“Look what you did to my teeth!  I’m gonna kick you in the nuts!”

But I talked to my therapist and she recommended a wonderful dentist who’s very sweet and apparently doesn’t order six root canals just for the heck of it.  Also I know Stephanie herself is only moderately interested in dental hygiene so hopefully he’s not the type to brow beat you about neglect.

So remember kids:  Floss.

This is sometimes said to a person who lost a spouse.  So does that mean God will be offering up blowjobs now?

Here’s an article I came across: http://www.tennessean.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060120/FEATURES01/601200369/1076/FEATURES

Connie Jackson was a recluse 637 pound woman who underwent weight loss surgery to lose a staggering 450 pounds.  She was approached by the BBC to film a documentary which airs on the Discovery Health Channel.  

Sounds neat huh?  Well that’s where it stops.  

The article also provided a link to her website: http://www.conniejackson.net  Which includes not one ounce of personal information about herself, struggles with obesity or the details about  her surgery.  However you’re in luck!  She reminds us on each page of her website to reserve a copy of her book and cd; to check out her store of personally recommended bariatric items; and although she had weight loss surgery you may enter (and purchase) a Medifast program through her; also a program of pre-packaged meals; and most importantly highly endorses Tony Robbins and his products.  Tony Robbins is a “motivational speaker” who charges fees for his seminars.  Normally these type of programs consist of mostly buzz words and group hypnosis while never actually giving out any helpful, individual advice.

She also asks on every page for people to please not hesitate in contacting her via email.  So I did: 

Do you find it ironic now that you've lost 450 pounds; you're using obesity as a cash cow?  All I managed to find on your helpful site were hurrahs for inspiration; buy my book; watch my documentary; buy my cd; buy these products I recommend and check out my online store!  In fact I found more personal information from an article http://www.tennessean.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060120/FEATURES01/601200369 than from your personal website.  I'd like to learn which weight loss surgery was performed, how many centimeters were bypassed, etc.  But I assume I'll have to watch the documentary or buy your book to find this out.

I guess I'm really stunned that you could spend your entire life battling with morbid obesity then in a blink of an eye turn it around as a an advantage for financial gain under the guise of support.
 

Not surprisingly, this was her response:

Dear Friend,
Due to the overwhelming outpouring I have received, it is impossible for me to respond to you personally at this time.  I wanted you to know that I have received and read your email.  Should you require a personal reply, you will receive one in the coming weeks.  In the meantime, don't forget to watch the Discovery Health Channel on January 22 and check back to my website for updates.  Thank you very much for taking the time to write.  Your comments are important to me.  
 
God bless,
Connie

Uh huh.  Actually I did try to watch her documentary, however although according to the guide I was watching The Shrinking Woman; it was very clearly something entirely different – i.e. not her show.  That's alright, I watched Jackie's Story instead and prefer her.  At least she didn't try to sell me anything.

Not surprisingly I was feeling a little overwhelmed and seriously wigging out.  Then I recalled this silly tiara Mother got me, saying this will have to do until I can get you a real one.  I saw it setting there on the kitchen counter.  Well why not?  And a perfect day for it!  I clipped it in my hair and asked Mother what she thought, she said, “It looks natural, like you were born to wear it.”

It was kinda fun riding through traffic and getting strange looks; I’d holler out, “Yes, I am wearing a tiara.”  Then they’d avert their eyes.  While walking towards the doctors office we passed by people who stopped and blinked a few times to which I once again replied, “Why yes, I am wearing tiara.”  They scurried off.

And into the surgeon’s office I go. I had a mixture of smiles, adverted eyes and who the hell does she think she is looks; all quite fun.

We meet with Dr. Swartz who just had to comment on my headgear; I told him that I just wanted to feel special.  Then we got down to business:

My Upper GI results showed I have a one ounce pouch, but since they’re using liquid it’s not totally accurate.  Still I can eat the same amount as Mother so I can’t possibly have over a two to three ounce pouch.  On that note, Dr. Swartz would prefer to the leave the pouch area alone; if there’s not a significant stretch or capacity then it’s certainly not worth all the risks involved with resizing one’s pouch.

So here’s the plan:  I already have 150 cm bypass plus the 30 bypassing the duodenum; this leaves me with about 7 to 10 feet of small intestines that are absorbing.  If we guesstimate I have 8 ½ feet that gives me a 250 cm common channel.  He wants to bypass another 125 cm (give or take) and leave me with 125 common channel.  Most duodenal switch patients have a 100 cm common channel, but I’ve seen many in the 80, 75 and sometimes 60 cm range.

The surgery should only take about an hour, can be performed laparoscopically and I only have to stay one to two nights in the hospital.  I’ll be on liquids for the first 24 hours, but I won’t have to go through the whole liquid, mush and soft foods stage since the pouch and stoma will stay completely untouched.

Hurray!  No Strictures!

I want Dr. Swartz to do my surgery, but since Felix did my original he felt he needed to consult.  So Dr. Felix came but was already enamored by my tiara and respected my authoratay.  He did start off by asking, “Now do you understand the procedure and everything to expect.”  And before I could even open my mouth Dr. Swartz hopped right in and said, “She understands it completely; she understands it all.”  So between that and my tiara Dr. Felix kinda let his guard down and was rather fun and pleasant.

I was so thrilled I left my tiara on for the rest of the day: shopping, going out to eat.  I learned wearing a tiara is a lot like Xanax.  It makes for one smashing security blanket.

I guess I never quite understood the full extent of my fear till it was lifted off me. I’ve been out and about more in just the past few days than I have for the past six weeks.  Not only was I sashaying along the aisles of stores, but also accosting strangers and askin ‘em how this hat looked on me, askin folks about their cats,  helping a guy pick out a mp3 player for his son and flirting with the cute fisherman guy at the farmer’s market.

Physically I’m the same person I was six weeks ago, but amazingly as I walked by folks they’d actually turn around to look at me.  A few even looked down my shirt; if his wife hadn’t been there at the time I woulda thanked him.  

I’m cranky, I’m cold, the idiotic rooster is crowing and it’s only a quarter till four, does anyone remember if I took my Effexor yesterday, I’ve been up since one, my back hurts…  Wait, I could turn my nifty chair on.  Well yeah that does help a lil bit.  Anyways I have an appointment for 3:30 this afternoon with Dr. Swartz and that other guy to discuss all my options for a revision, i.e. how bloody dangerous it is and every single solitary thing that can possibly go wrong.  Booyeah!  

Now it’s very important I refrain from kicking Dr. Felix in the nuts, and since there’s an excellent chance I won’t be sleeping anytime between now and then, it’s fair to say a lil Xanax will be needed.

But!

This is a very important meeting and I need to stay lucid, and annoy the shit out of Dr. Felix by keeping my vast vocabulary intact.

What to do?

This time I’m not starving myself for the weigh in.  Yes, I weigh lots.  We all know that, and the glaring precise numbers aren’t really a necessity at the moment.  In fact the last time I was forced onna scale the Lifeline helicopter had to be brought in, and it wasn’t for me. 

I actually had a dream where somebody emailed me and said that they were happy to announce that they wouldn't be in town the same day.

I have six bottles of vodka in the pantry; maybe I should take one for the road.

I have an overwhelming need to drive a pick axe into Amy Williams’ smug face.  S’pose that’s just the crankiness and vulnerability talking.  Still, I know someone who’ll do it just for a six pack.  Actually that’s no fun.  Death is too easy.  I say cut her off at the knees, force her to be short and gain all her weight back.

I was gonna tattle on her to Dr. Swartz, so’s he could go to the head honchos as they do pay to be on their site.  Unfortunately $3500 isn’t much clout up against two million dollars.  Still, I think I’ll tell him anyway that it’s nothing but a money grubbing corporation using obesity support as a smoke screen.  He’s a rather intuitive guy though and probably already realizes that, but at least he does think highly of Mother and I and maybe he’ll totally agree that they suck ass just to make me feel better.

I haven’t even packed yet, although it’s not as if ya have to pack much for Fresno.  Seriously, we shoulda bought a second home there over a year ago.  Real estate has already soared over there; we coulda made a killing by renting a place out.  We have a friend who bought a place over in Clovis about six months ago; 4000 sq feet, swimming pool and the house is already appraising at least more than $100,000 from what he paid for it.  He said we oughta come over and visit; maybe I should spend my recovery time at his house.  

Damnit!  If I’d been thinking I woulda got us a room at the new casino just 20 miles up the road.  However, Mother’s promised me a lil getaway down to Cambria where we can tour the wineries Sideways style.  Because (knock on wood) her old boss may have found her a job, and we may not have to do the whole court battle thing – which noone was lookin forward to.  

And after this goddamn surgery and I lose 100 pounds, I’m goin to Vegas to get plastered and lose my virginity with the first good lookin guy I see.  Then I’ll marry him and get it annulled the next morning, come back and tell everyone I’m a widower.  

Well I guess I should go bathe and put on a mildly good impression, but I ain’t shavin my legs.

hahahaha *snort*  Here's what I wrote him:

Hey since you enjoy pessimism; then again since you had the surgery there's a strong possibility your glass is now half full, but on the off chance that it's not:  I cordially invite you to my extremely pessimistic, often pissy and sometimes violent blog.  http://www.immafooker.com  I've recently gone private so if you're interested in reading any of the good bits you'll have to sign up for a reader's account here  http://www.blogware.com/users/index.cgi/cmd=signup/cmd=signup/id=16498  Then email me your username and I'll hook you up.
 
If in fact you're not enticed by my wily charms, then you can just piss off.

Pffft!  If that doesn't convince a man then I don't know what does.

I just finished watching War of the Worlds; PG-13 my ass.  I haven’t felt this strong a need to curl up inna a fetal position and pull the covers over my head since I accidentally watched a bit of Poltergeist at four years old.

Apocalyptic movies are supposed to be fun, and that wasn’t fun – it was upsetting.  I can’t explain why certain parts bothered me so or why I experienced chest pains while watching the aliens suck the blood out of humans then spray it back out on the ground like fertilizer, but it did.

To ask if this was a good movie makes for one very complicated answer, but I can tell ya this much:  Don’t let your children or sensitive Mothers watch it.  This is not a shiny happy film; lots of undertones of war, 9/11 and genocide.   Also it was incredibly illogical for all the main characters to have miraculously survived.  I guess that’s what made it PG-13.

Met a guy (spelling was impeccable) who was retired at 32 until the market crashed; instead of taking the weenie way out (i.e. bankruptcy), he took out loans, got a job and started paying off his debt -- purty admirable.  

I told him my story, showed him my pictures and purty much said, “Yes I weigh 300 pounds now but am getting the surgery again.  I understand folks have their preferences, but if you’re just sticking around in the hopes that I’ll be thin someday then you can go straight to hell.”

He replied, “Ok.”  And then still bugged me about taking me out onna date.  A lil flattering I suppose, but how can someone with an IQ of 150 be so bloody dull?  He didn’t know who Itzhak Perlman was, doesn’t watch Indie movies and thinks rock and roll died when R.E.M. and U2 came on the scene.  Dude!  And the worst of all; he does nothing but play poker during his free time.  He even relays all the plays back to you.  It’s boring.    

Plus, he’s one those guys who’s ready to settle down.  Which usually means they’ll take the first one available; at 39 his biological clock is a ticking time bomb.  He just has to go.  This is no time for a man anyways.

And yet on that note there’s this incredibly cute guy on the singles board I’m considering hitting on.  I have his email.

Check it out:

This was taken at my cousin's wedding about three years ago.
	This is a dress I bought at least 10 years ago. It's a size 22; still had the tags on it.

   

Since my back has been owwie Mother bought a massaging plus heat computer chair.  Oh my yes, good times.  Now I can’t think of any viable reason why you have the option of it vibrating on the seat in one very particular location.  In fact, when Mother went to buy the chair the cute sales guy asked her, “Now tell me, why’d you pick that one?”  She went into a spiel about a daughter with a bad back.  But hey!  This is just a fun bonus.

That’s what Mother said after I’d been frequently sneaking off with hers.  Yeah thanks to my Happy Holiday Weight Gain I’ve packed on 20 pounds, but damnit, I really did eat some good shit.  And everybody at the doc’s office totally believed me when I said that not only did Mother bake like a madwoman, she then held me down and forced fed me homemade biscotti, Russian Tea Cakes and Ritz Cracker Cookies – I was helpless against her new found strength.

Unfortunately ever since I’ve been having very nasty back and hip pain.  Now for a heifer I’m actually very flexible.  I learned this yoga/stretching move about 12 years ago that’s always kept my spine loosey goosey, but lately it won’t budge and is hard as a rock.  I honestly had to use a walker the other day.  Me!  A 28 yr old with a walker.  That just pissed me off.

I love my doctor.  I was telling her about my recent discovery of Eiswein, and since she’s of Austrian background she had many a story to tell about venturing to lil Mom and Pop wineries.  I told her that I just wish I had some on tap.  Then she tells me, “But you know, they’re high in calories.”  I said, “Yeah well, I’m onna liquid diet.”  She just laughed.

This is a question that’s always lurking in the shadows, and sticking its tongue out on occasion.  It’s kinda caused me to have doubts as to whether I’m really committed to this surgery, or am just wasting everyone's time and money.  I was committed during my first surgery, but after the stricture and an incredibly disappointing loss of only 14 pounds my first month; I just said screw it.

But this is why God invented Mothers.  Mother reminded me that during my previous weight loss, I exercised all the time – at least three hours a day!  I would run up and down the stairs, we had a weight set and not to mention a 4000 sq ft house at the time that I always kept immaculate.  I was like a football player or Olympic athlete and still only ate 1200 calories a day.

I believe my blood tests more than prove that I’m absorbing much more than your normal bypass patient.  Vitamin b12 can only be absorbed in either the duodenum or the jejunum (I can’t remember) and of course under the tongue.  If I’ve taken this supplement a dozen times since surgery I’d be surprised, and yet all my blood tests show my B12 is in perfect range.  If that’s not evidence, then I dunno what is

I get to see both surgeons on Tuesday to talk about the revision.  My only problem is Dr. Felix will be present and I must keep myself from saying every five minutes, “I’m gonna kick you in the nuts!”  

It’s hard for yours truly to be on her best behavior.  I’ll try, but I’m hoping Dr. Swartz has already intervened and said, “If you treat her like every other moo cow patient that lumbers through this slaughter house.  She’s liable to kick you in the nuts.”

Dr. Felix is a spectacular surgeon, it’s just that he’s uppity and lumps all patients together; never bothering with individuality.  Isn’t that what we call Communism?  The truth is Dr. Felix, although highly skilled at his job and doesn’t enjoy killing folks, is just a bully.  And baby if you wanna go that route I can bring ya to your knees.  I ain’t skeert of bullies cuz I am.  Master of Bullidom!

I kinda drug my feet over getting this appointment set up.  Mind you surgeons aren’t in this business to kill folks, but even though my initial surgery (ignoring the later complications) went off without a hitch; I swore I’d never have surgery again.  I was honestly amazed at my stamina after a major operation.  But it’s the whole concept of someone fiddling around with your innards, and you have absolutely no control over the situation.  

Control is such a major issue in anxiety, panic attacks and eating disorders such as bulimia; you feel you’ve lost complete control over your life or a strong presence seems to be dictating your life for you.  This leads to panic attacks, irrational fears and sometimes agoraphobia.  In a bulimic’s case they vomit up their food because this is the one thing they have complete control over in their life.

Anyway I got sidetracked, where was I?  So yeah, I’m off to Fresno on Tuesday.

You know how in the movie Sabrina (the original, don’t even waste my time with a remake.  Remaking any Audrey Hepburn movie is just sacrilege.  A remake is just Hollywood’s way of saying, “We’ve lost all capability of original thought) when William Holden sees Audrey Hepburn at the party and hops the fence inna single bound just to get to her?  Le sigh, I’ve always said I wanted a man to do that for me.

Well it just so happens when I start walking down the hall, from a deep sleep Patches stands straight up and leaps over a tv and rather large ottoman on the floor just to get to me.  Know what?  That’s close enough; I’ll take it.

I was gonna write these all out but I’m lazy and doped up on Vicodin.  So just go check out my last 100 posts here to see the incredibly evil gurl I’ve been made out to be.

Not much of a surprise considering she’s always found me incredibly intimidating.  I’m not tootin my own horn.  See for yourself:

This is the first email I received for replying to Sandy in Tuscan’s post about “excercizing”  My reply:  Personally I'm just proud that I can spell exercise correctly.

Dear Brooke Reborn,

Your post on the ObesityHelp Main Message Board entitled "RE: Excercise....is not an option" was withheld because this was unsupportive and mocking. Brook, there was an instance last week also, please don't go back to old habits. We really want you to be apart of this site.

Thanks,
Member Services

My reply:

Would this be the instance with the dickweed redneck Dx who managed quite a few instances himself?  Sorry I don't think that one counts.  If I'm to be policed and watch-dogged above all others than you can kiss my ass.  And I'm afraid I'm withdrawing this withdrawal notice because you neglected to spell my name correctly.
 

Amy Williams reply:

Brooke,
 
We are sad to see you leave the site.
 
The below reply is sufficient enough to confirm removal of your profile and membership.  When we approved you to come back to site there was an understanding that violation against our terms of service will not be tolerated.  This will include personal attacks on our staff.  Based on this, your profile/site privileges are being taken away.  We are sad to see you leave, but we can't tolerate these type of actions from our members.

My reply:

I see the same from countless members daily who are allowed to remain.  Why I'm consistently policed and tossed off every time your knickers become knotted is beyond me.  
 
Show me the complaints you received about me.  Then compare them to the ones who enjoy me.

Another reply:

All I've ever wanted on this site was to be treated as an equal; not someone who has to tiptoe around and constantly has her ass monitored for cling-ons.  Yes Brooke is the evil bad gurl, but I enjoy helping people and I'm also the biggest attention monger this side of the Mississippi.  Do you know why I asked Dx how many times he's broken his arm pattin himself on the back and pointed out to Sandy that I was just personally proud I could spell exercise correctly?  Because they piss me off, I don't like them and I'm mean?  If that were the case, there'd be alot more similiar replies.  No, it's because every once in awhile my will power disipates when I think of the other people who read those rallying, yet belittling posts about failure, exercise, etc.  The truth is these posts make others feel like shit; for all those who are frightened, uncertain, depressed, feel like failures and knocked down one peg further by such supposedly uplifting posts.  And because I've been where they are, I hop in there and stand up for them, knowing full well all my privileges will quite likely be ripped out from under me.  How ironic obese people are ridiculed on an obesity help site.
 
Amy everyone on that site thinks you're the success story of the century.  Are you really gonna kick me off because I'm tired of being treated so differently onna site where I'm just like everybody else and tell you to kiss my ass if this is how my membership is to be?  Don't take the profanity personally, I'm just fluent but I'm sorry if I offended or hurt your feelings.  But my feelings have been hurt too by the constant wagging of a finger, an absolute mistrust although my posts and replies tell a different story and the fact that I've been trying damn hard.
 
If you'd like to talk more on the subject my number is 831-censored.  If not, then good luck.

Bitches reply

Brooke,
 
Please see below
 
-------Original Message-------
 
From: Brooke Lee
Date: 11/01/05 05:50:51
To: Amy Williams - Obesityhelp.com
Subject: Re: [Norton AntiSpam] Originally to - memberservices@obesityhelp.com - Member Services Contact Request
 
Oh the 1.5 million dollar thing; it's gone.  By the way, would the administration be interested in the member who hacked into ObesityHelp and retrieved the Bariatric Surgeon Packet then showed me?
----- Original Message -----
From: Amy Williams - Obesityhelp.com
To: narf@networksplus.net
Sent: Monday, October 10, 2005 9:06 AM
Subject: Re: [Norton AntiSpam] Originally to - memberservices@obesityhelp.com - Member Services Contact Request


Brooke,
 
We understand that you need support.  However, there are a few issues we would need to work out first.  There have been certain things wrote on your blog that were hurtful to both Obesityhelp and staff personally.  I've spoke with upper management and we are willing to allow you another chance on the site with the understanding that any thing like the past (hurtful comments, being mean to members, etc) is not going to be tolerated.  If you are willing to remove portions of your blog directly about Obesityhelp and staff, we will consider allowing you back on the site.  Also you would be placed on a moderation for a period of a few months and monitored very closely there after.   Your posts would be allowed, but please know we would only give you this last chance.  If anything like the past happens again we would then remove you from the site permanently.  
If you agree to above then we would consider you coming back.  Let us know your choice and what you've done to resolve this issue on your end.  If you need to speak with me directly my number is listed below with my ext.

My reply:

Yes and everything was removed from the site like you requested, and I don't plan putting it back up there.  The guy who hacked into your computer and handed the document over to me was Jay Kahl.

IE, I don't plan on putting all the hurtful information back up just out of retaliation.

Another reply from me:

Is there anyone higher up I can talk to?  No possible way?  I have medical proof that I am on my period; started on the third -- it's hard to control hormones.

Stupid hick’s reply:

Brooke,
 
They are aware of the situation.  I was the one that ensured getting you back on the site that I would take on watching your actions.  We did give you another chance.   I'm sorry, what's done is done.
 
Amy

My reply:

You're not sorry.  If you truly were sorry and gave a shit, you would have called.  My two measly lil actions and I'm wiped off the map.  I want to personally thank you for taking me one step lower in life.

Evil Cunt from hell’s reply:

Brooke,
 
Please don't email me in the future.  I've done all I can for you.
 
I do care about you, if had not we wouldn't have given you a second chance.  I would have called, but that's not going to change who you are.  You didn't have to reply the way you did and especially knowing it would go to someone at Obesityhelp.  My staff does not deserve to be treated like that.  We have given you multiple chances, there's just not more we can do here.  
 
Amy

Wow, that wasn’t totally biased at all.

It's gonna be a lil different around here for reasons I'd prefer not to share in this section.  From now on to read my blog you'll have setup a reader's account ( I know, but it's actually purty quick and painless) then mail me with your username, and ya know, make sure I know who ya are and everything; then I'll let ya in.

It'll ask ya to choose a username and password.  What you want your display name to be; First and Last name don't have to be your real names.  The URL is optional, but I believe the email addie is required. Ya get a lil confirmation email, and once everything's all confirmy they send ya to a page asking you everything from your Grandmother's maiden name to your bank account number -- you can totally ignore this page.

Then just email me your username narf@networksplus.net  and I'll getcha hooked up.  Or you could just leave a comment here I suppose, but you must state who you are and where the hell you came from so that I may interrogate you properly. 

So Cleveland, Ontario, Fenton; I think there's a Florida in there too somewhere's.  Come on.  Chop chop!

This is it.  This is my true love.  I know I say that every couple of months, but…  Well I can’t think of a convincing argument.  

Eiswein is German for Ice Wine.  I saw a special on Food TV a couple years back where this Canadian winery actually allowed their crop of grapes to freeze; because of this alone, they lose at least half their crop.  The frozen grapes that do get harvested are immediately crushed and started in the distilling process.  They claimed that the freezing somehow allowed more sugar to secrete and thus making for one helluva kick ass mellow wine.  Unfortunately this is obviously a time consuming, costly business and they were asking about $100 per bottle.

I personally have a hard time spending that much on something which can conceivably vanish in less than five minutes.  I might as well pour ketchup over five twenty dollar bills.

But…

As luck would have it, while searching for this precious nectar we happened on an actual knowledgeable person in the wine aisle at Whole Foods -- I know, we were surprised too.  We had found a Canadian labeled $60 bottle and asked his opinion.  He let us in onna lil secret:  He had just opened two cases from Germany and couldn’t believe the price they were asking; considering the taste was nearly identical to the Canadian’s.  $20, needless to say we say we ran home with quite a few bottles.  

This is without a doubt the best wine ever.  Seriously, even whiny folks who claim they can’t stand that “alcohol bite” will try to steal it from you and announce it to be their precious.

But just like an alcoholic charged with vehicular manslaughter whose plea is, “But it’s a disease!”  My surgeon told me to take it easy over the holidays.  So I surrounded myself with vodka, wine, and champagne, Ritz Cracker Cookies, Russian Tea Cakes, truffles, a bed pan, the remote control, warmie blankie, cats and a well formed butt groove on the couch.  Consequently it shouldn’t come as much of a shock that I gained 15 pounds.  Still it was rather distressing when I saw a reflection inna glass door of Jabba the Hut covered with lil fluffy blue clouds (presumably a night shirt).  Mother claimed the reflection from that particular glass door is very distorted, but when you have a person who can once again wear high heels for the first time in ten years and just purchased a push-up bra; then there’s an excellent possibility they’re just trying to make you feel better.

So today was supposed to be the start of, “I’m gonna stop eating crap and get back to eating healthier.”  But then my period started, and all women should be allowed to drink alcohol on the first day of their period – keeps the cramps and massacres to a minimum.