Hey, look at that, Friday again. Seems to come around about every week, doesn’t it? We’re days away from another Halloween and children across the country are carefully choosing the largest pillow case they can find to fill with the most candy possible.

At 31 I can barely remember what is was like to eat a garbage bag full of, well, garbage in the span of a week. I’m at the age now where I actually count calories, a fact that deeply disappoints 8-year-old Gregg. I have to do it, 8-year-old me, otherwise this happens:

Fat Gregg…Fatregg?

Fat Gregg…Fatregg?

No, that isn’t a watermelon sitting atop a beach ball, that is me circa 2003. Look at that perfectly round head, and that creepy, spotty beard. That is sex appeal. Put your pants back on, ladies! I know this is extremely erotic, but you’re at work for Christ’s sake! What if your boss catches you…you know…anyway, I don’t want to be responsible for anyone getting fired.

The lesson here, kiddies, is always read the health information printed on the package. If that New York cheese cake says its 400 calories a slice, avoid eating 8 slices. You heart and quite possibly your colon will thank you.

What’s the point of this post again? Oh, right! Dead-Beef comic comin’ at ‘cha!!

Dead-Beef: Kitties