Oct. 25, 2003 - 7:56 p.m.

Anybody been able to read weetabix's diary today? NewWifey(tm) was only able to hold my monitor upside down for so long before her arms gave out. Damn, it was getting good, too.

So it's Day 2 of Operation Enduring Freedom From Work...for four days...and already I need massive reconstruction aid. NewWifey(tm) mentioned something about a shower, and I seem to have forgotten how to use a spatula. Hey, I'm on vacation bitch. My ass doesn't move from this recliner except to don another Depends. Or if I run out of Gummy Worms. If you want hot food or a clean smelling consort, go out and find it yourself. I'll be back Tuesday.

In the meantime, I need to cut-n-paste something here.

I post to some groups over at Delphi Forums, using the name "Sherpat". It's a contraction of "Sherpa-T", the model of a famous racing motorcyle put out by the Bultaco company from the 60's through the '80's. It was also my first real racing bike.

So on one of these forums we were all asked to explain our names. The previous paragraph would have provided them with a perfectly fine, succinct answer. But I wrote this:

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Back in 1992 I went on an ill advised all-dairy diet to lose weight. The theory was, milk would provide all the calcium I needed, plus casein for protein, and would be easy to digest (these were the good ol' low fiber days). Because it would get to my intestines fast and raise my blood sugar, I would feel full more quickly and consume less calories overall. I could have cheese, ice cream (no nuts), Milk Bonz, etc. For a while it actually worked and I managed to get under 420 lbs. for the first time since I was 17. But then I hit a plateau.

That's when the company "Sherpat" contacted me.

Sherpat was the precurser to Parmalat, the European based food concern that still markets boxed ultra-pasteurized milk, as well as boxed tomato products, etc. They were developing a new line of "Super Milk" to mesh with this all-dairy diet, and they wanted me to be a guinea pig. I agreed, for a fee, and we started the new regiment with their product.

Their stuff was amazing! Within months I had cut my weight in half, and by 1994 I was down to a trim 123 lbs. I decided to stay on the regiment in order to maintain my now svelte form.

However, early in 1995 I started noticing some troublesome changes to my physique. My shirts were getting tighter...but it wasn't from my belly. I was growing breasts! I saw a doctor who told me my blood analysis showed very VERY high levels of estrogen. I called my Sherpat representative who told me that there had been numerous complaints in the past several months about this. Turns out one of the reasons the Sherpat milk was so succesful was that "thickeners" were added to the cows' feed. These thickeners helped block absorbtion of fats in the bodies of people who drank the product. However, in order for the thickeners in the feed to be digested by the cows, massive quantities of bovine estrogen were administered regularly. And a lot of THAT leeched into the cow's milk. And then into me.

So there I was, 26, male, heterosexual. And I've got a damn nice rack. What's a guy to do? I decided to make lemonaid out of lemons. Or melon sorbet out of my melons, anyway. I bought a wig and started modelling. I was pretty good at it, too. In fact in 1997 I was named Miss West Virginia, which was all the more impressive as I lived in New Jersey.

On the runway, after being crowned and fighting back tears of joy (ah, the days before water proof mascara) I held my bouquet high and publicly thanked the Sherpat company for making my dream come true. In gratitude for the free publicity on national television, Sherpat sent me a dozen cases of their milk and a check for $10,000! With the money I was able to get my beautician's license and the *cutest* set of floral print slipcovers for all the furniture in my apartment. And I still had $3000 left over!! (Unfortunately I had to use most of it to pay for an abortion that summer. Damn that oily Bert Parks and his empty promises!)

Well, all good things must come to an end. After my free cases of Sherpat ran out, I wasn't able to purchase any more. The company sank under the weight of numerous lawsuits filed by other "men" who weren't as enterprising at capitalizing on their new physiques. Of course, none of them ended up as pretty as me. Most were real woofers, to be honest. Still, they could have tried even a *little* foundation or something instead of just whining. Bitches! Anyway, the company ran out of business, to reappear later as "Parmalat". However, the milk formula was now forever changed, and I started my inescapable reversal.

My boobs shrunk, and shrunk in direct proportion to my penis' re-erection. I started putting on bulk, but thankfully peaked at only a hundred pounds over pageant weight. I'd like to fit into my gown again some day, but I don't think it's gonna happen no matter HOW many Weight Watcher Meal Points I skimp on. You've all been there, right ladies?

So now here I am; breastless, hung, 225 lbs., and wearing my tiara to local bars. But I still use the handle "Sherpat" as an homage to the company that allowed a poor girl from the rundown New York City suburbs to realize her fifteen minutes of fame. And tits.

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Ok, it's not the greatest story. But I do need to store it somewhere, because I actually got an offer to write for money after I posted it. I don't want to lose it. And it looks like that forum may not be around much longer...same with my home computer. So, here it's stored.

Besides - what could be easier than cutting and pasting something to pad out a diary entry? I'm on vacation dammit. I can't be bothered being original.

Right on, Sisters!