Photo: NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center, Flickr Creative Commons
Existential crisis averted*. I'm back to half a pound lighter than I was last Thursday. That's right, I managed to gain 5 lbs and lose 5.5 lbs in the space of four days. It's either that my size (well over 6 feet tall and well over 200 lbs) makes 5 lbs a relatively small amount of weight, my scale is fucking possessed by a deceased asshole, or I somehow consumed a microscopic speck of black hole dust and it finally passed into the septic tank last night.
That's kind of a gross image, actually, but it's just digestion, people. That hot chick or gorgeous dude you were probably eyeballing earlier today? They poop too. They just probably don't pass poops riddled with tiny pieces of black holes. I almost said "dead stars" there instead of "black holes". It would have sounded better, but the fact is that we're all composed of the stuff of dead stars. Supernovas are how the universe gets nasty. Every time a star dies, the heavens have to change their pants.
* I'm not actually freaking out about the weight thing. It is baffling, but the fact of the matter is that I'm still 21 lbs below my peak weight and despite being 35 lbs heavier than I was as a senior in high school, I'm probably more fit right now than I have ever been.