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McDonalds is bad for yoooou

I didn’t manage to get a post up yesterday, as you may or may not have noticed, if you had been waiting with baited breath until the wee hours and finally went to bed, disappointed, wiping cold tears from your cheeks and cursing the day you ever trusted Matt “Le Douteux” Hearn.

It wasn’t the greatest day for nutrition; I managed to stick to the fasting schedule for the most part, not eating anything until a hot dog at lunch, but backslid a bit when we went to a bonfire party in the evening and I ate pizza and drank hot cider. At least I got in my usual chins+pushups+planks.

On Sundays I usually eat breakfast because while I’m a big proponent of fasting, I’ve had bad experiences with being undernourished at church; not sure why, but I’ve gotten dizzy a few times up in the choir stall, so I make sure to get some eggs and meat in my system before I go. Lunch was a hot dog with cheese, though I did spend a lot of the afternoon picking at things (like the pork tenderloin we premade for the week), and then we went to the mall and bought new phones and ended up picking up McDonalds on the way home to appease our unruly children. It’s amazing how even a good choice at McDonalds (in my case, a grilled chicken sandwich) is still *incredibly* unhealthy compared to almost anything you could make at home.

Fries be delicious as hell, doe.

Weight’s still holding steady at 230. Perhaps if I stop eating fricking fast food I’ll actually start dropping pounds…nah.

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