Friday, November 4, 2011

Reflections of the Traveling Pants

I know that I have been ignoring my blog. I really am sorry about it too, because I know what its like when a website that you check all the time stops being interesting. I have a rotation of sites I visit that includes, Facebook,, Craigslist (missed encounters m4w and pets), and my gmail. I would be absolutely pissed if people stopped putting up posts to find “ women in ford Explorir looking hot on root 9,” so I get why you are mad. I have been doing a lot of traveling which cuts into my time to write, but creates so many chances for reflection. So I will reflect. This is me reflecting on variety of topics...


There are no black people in Wyoming. Not one. Also, there are no black people in Iowa. I don't really know what would happen if one showed up, but now that Hootie is a country singer, we should be finding out any day! I can't wait!


You cannot get a black iced coffee in any state in the Midwest. You can make your own black iced coffee at gas stations in the South, but in the South there is an invisible line between normal suburbs and the ghetto and you NEVER know when you cross it. You can be driving along looking at white picket fences and before you know what is happening you are surrounded by 3 legged dogs and Cutlass Supremes with 24 inch rims. Be selective about where you purchase your self service coffee when you are below the Mason Dixon.

Also, the best food in the world is in the Northeast. We are so spoiled here in Boston with delicious Italian food and fresh seafood and Big Jim Melanson. I mean maybe you can get some good BBQ in the south and tons of corn in Iowa, but the staples (burgers, breakfast, anything Italian, margaritas) are the best right here in New England.


Working out alone sucks. I have worked out alone in hotel gyms as well as hospital gyms. I have visited two other CrossFit gyms, and all the people have been just as nice as they are at my gym. Not as weird or as loud, but just as nice. Also, despite popular belief, other CrossFit gyms are not places where every single athlete is elite and better than you. In fact, they are absolutely full of fatties and weaklings and geriatrics. You're a star!


Hotels are f*cking disgusting. I dont touch the comforter and try as hard as possible to not walk around barefoot. They all bake cookies and think that it makes up for the fact that 16 homeless men had an orgy on the comforter that you are now cuddling up to your face. The clickers are covered in all kinds of disease carrying fluids.

Hotels are also lonely and sometimes scary. For some reason, I always find myself at hotels that are also occupied by large groups of traveling construction workers ( I dont even know.) They drink Miller Lites in the parking lot and stare at me with their dirty fingernails and poorly wiped asses. A nice reminder again, of who/what was wrapped up in my blankets before I checked in.

Air Travel

Oh here is where the fun starts. Where should I begin. First of all, a plane ride is a bad time to breastfeed. There are pumps for that shit. Bring a bottle. Especially when you are in the middle seat and I am in the window seat with a bladder full of my last black coffee for 5 days. Get a grip.

Second, if you know you are a loud breather, dont travel. I cant deal with it. I can only wear headphones for so long before the insides of my ears hurt and then I am forced to listen to you breathing like an asshole. Just stay home if you cant control the volume of your nostrils.

Third, dont eat on the plane if you chew like a donkey wearing a mouth guard. Thats all I will say about that.

Finally (and most importantly) if you are over the age of 6, take all your giant shits before you get on the plane. Adults should know their schedule. I stand FIRMLY by my belief that unless you have food poisoning, a stomach flu, or took 15 laxatives, you should know what time you usually have to go. No adult should ever have to be at a party and take a crap. Or on a plane. Or at a beerfest ( I got into a fight in a port-a-potty line over this.) Its just RIDICULOUS that any adult would expect me to believe that their shits sneak up on them at any possible time. I will never change my mind on this. F*ckin people.

And there you have it. This is what I have learned from traveling the country. Wyoming is awesome. Iowa is not so awesome. South Carolina is similar to Brockton. Planes suck. Hotels usually suck. I wish I had some more worldly things to say, but I don't. I drove all the way to Yellowstone and didn't have any money to get in. I think that sentence is a wonderful analogy for my whole life.


Friday, September 9, 2011

Christmas is Comin'

Its cold. Well, Its kinda cold. I love it. I am happy to say goodbye to summer. The summer makes my hair look like Little Richard.

Anyways, the cold weather reminded me of Christmas, which reminded me of something I need to talk about immediately. Christmas Cards. I dont know how to tie this into health, so I will just say that you are reeeeeallllly effing with my mental stability when you send me a Christmas card, SO PLEASE SAVE YOUR MONEY AND LEAVE ME ALONE.

First of all. Unless you are legally married or have been together for so long that people truly do not know if you are married or not, DO NOT, send out a Christmas card from “us.” Because GUESS WHAT? Its not from “us.” Its from the girl trying to show all her friends that she has a boyfriend and move the relationship faster then it needs to go. If you get one of those, consider it a threat from a lunatic and immediately panic. This is a clear warning that when this relationship goes south (which it will), you will either be friends with a dead person or a murderer. Cut these assholes out of your life NOW.

If you are actually married, and feel the compelling need to waste your time and money sending me a Christmas card with no money in it that I am going to just rip in half with my mouth and punch a wall, FINE send it. BUT DO NOT INCLUDE A PICTURE OF YOURSELF. You are a grown adult. So is your husband or wife. You are not cute. I have Facebook, I can see in 775 different pictures that you are just as ugly as always. For the love of God, NEVER SEND ME A PICTURE OF YOURSELF. Its weird and I am going to hate it.

That being said, I dont mind pictures of kids. If they are cute its nice and if they are fug it gives me a good laugh. Likewise, animals are fun. A nice picture of your kids in front of a Christmas tree doesn't piss me of that much, but if you send me a picture of your baby painted like a candy cane coming out of the ass of your antler wearing dog, I am going to cut you out. Or just cut you.

I want to end by asking, WHY WOULD ANYONE SEND ME A CARD ANYWAYS? I am one of those people that offers nothing. There is nothing that you, as an individual, need from me to get ahead in your own life. Send a card to your boss. Send a card to your in-laws who hate you. Don't send a card to me. You don't need a loser like me judging you.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Swedish Fish and Despair

Look, I know I haven't blogged in months, so everyone can stop reminding me. I am pretty sure that you have never written one blog post in your life so shut the hell up about me not posting for two months. I was conjuring up a list of ideas for a post that will blow your little minds. I lost that list, so you get to read this bullshiz....Enjoy!

So far in this blog I have blabbed on and on about the benefits of Paleo and Crossfit as if I just had this perfect,indestructible life of exercise and animal flesh where nothing could ever go wrong. And thats how it was for awhile. But, sometimes the smallest inexplicable shift in your brain can change your mindset toward things, and thats what happened to me recently. Without completely giving up, I gave up. Here is my story. Get the tissues. All donations to my credit card bill.

I went off the deep end. I just got into this weird 3 month funk where I became less of a Paleo/CrossFit machine and more of just a normal human (gross.) I extended my beloved “cheat day” to two, and then three, and sometimes even FOUR days a week. I lost my competitive drive in the gym which is baffling because I still couldn't play Wheel of Fortune without screaming and standing up (even when I was by myself.) I was burnt the f*ck out, and I just didn't know how to handle it.

The major problem was that I thought I could do whatever I wanted because I wasn't a fat mess. Lalala, I'm a size 4, I can eat 1000 Blizzards..BOOM...I'm Christina Aguilera but slightly less trannylicious ( I HOPE.) All my shorts from last summer look like they would fit an infant. I would go to the gym to try to work off this extra “bloat” as I called it when I was in denial, but working out is hard with a belly full of sugary little red fish and my times on workouts were just getting worse and worse. Instead of leaving the gym feeling great, I would sit in my car for ten minutes after a WOD wondering if I had let myself go beyond repair. I felt stupid for caring so much, and it just became a vicious cycle of overeating and underperforming. I was on the path to becoming a mega fatty and I needed a good punch in the junk ASAP. Unfortunately, that never came, and I was forced to realize the truth. I am the conductor of my own life, and the fatass train is stopping here.

I wish I could say that some major event triggered me to get back on track, but my life is too boring for that. Luckily, the mundane act of waking up every day feeling like the fattest, ugliest loser on the planet for 90 straight days was enough to do the trick. PLEASE DO NOT WRITE ME HEARTFELT MESSAGES TELLING ME NOT TO KILL MYSELF. Fat, skinny, tan, pale, bloated....I will always be obsessed with myself so chill the f*ck out. I think everyone, (and I will say women especially, although that may offend any extra sensitive men out there,) at some point goes through a phase where they just negative self talk themselves into the ground. Life wouldn't be life without ups and downs, but it it would certainly be a sad life if you didn't take advantage of the downs and use them to fuel your next up! This sounds like a informational pamphlet on how to be a drug addict.

Alright. I'm done. I just wanted to write this post to explain why I haven't blogged in awhile, and also to put the message out there that EVERYONE feels bad sometimes. If you are currently sucking at everything, its OK! Take some time and sit for awhile in your own misery, but when you are good and ready, slap yourself across your fat face and declare that you are ready to kick some ass. Everyone feels like a burning bag of dicks at some point, but you gotta take the advice of my man Jerry and just keep truckin on. He was a fat f*ck and even he managed to pull it off for awhile. I have only been back on track for 4 days and I already think I have graduated from a drunk and puffy Christina Aguilera to more of an extremely motivated, pregnant, ostrich. HOORAY!

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

CrossFit Northeast Regionals 2011

Congratulations to Dawn Marie, owner, coach and friend to everyone at CrossFit508 for finishing as the 21st fittest woman in the Northeast at the Regionals last weekend!

All of my BFF's showed up to eat, drink (shhh), and cheer on the competitors in the strongest sun ever. Seriously, my face is peeling off.

DM told us that her judge asked if all that cheering was only for her when she was out there doin her thang. It was. We are really loud. And cute as hell.

PS: You didn't think I wouldn't mention good ole "No Rep" did you? Shout out to Dawn for judging all day and getting some sick new Reebok sneakers for her efforts. She has to know she will never, ever, live down that reputation.


Don't Worry....Be Freakin Happy!!!!!

I am wondering why self help books are so popular. Its almost as if people don't even know what they like. This makes me think that I am doing OK in life, because if you came up to me and said “ Haley, what do you like?” I could tell you in ten seconds. Even though I technically asked this question to myself, I will tell you anyways. I like the following things; food, blankets, hilarious people, writing, pretending my cats can talk, gum, headbands, sexy ass men, CVS nose drops, sleeping, and my own strange sense of fashion. While we are on the topic, here is a severely shortened list of things I hate; dolphins, Anne Hathaway, Bacardi, Tyler Perry's House of Pain, technology, people from India, huge ugly earrings that match your shirt, calamari, coffee flavored things, outspoken liberals, standing in a weird crowded bar pretending its so fun, and people who fake laugh at the end of every sentence. There are way more, but it could get offensive, racist (more so than it already is), and maybe even illegal, so I will end the hate list there.

The point of this is, I KNOW what makes me happy. There is never a day when I wake up from my 15 hour slumber and wonder “ I think I will put on my best matching shirt/earring combo and go out for a nice calamari lunch to discuss welfare policies with Sheryl Crowe.” No thank you. If I want to be happy I get some gum, slap on a headband, and go to the mall to buy more gum and headbands. I don't need Dr. Phil to tell me that I would enjoy a nice shopping spree more than hanging myself in an elementary school playground. You people are so lost these days. Just do what you like and shut up about it. Great, now I am all worked up.

So this blog is my declaration that I will never buy a self-help book in my life. Nobody can tell me exactly what makes me happy except ME. At the beginning of 2011, I posted about changing my life to cut out all the bullshit. Well guess what? I did it, and this year has been awesome. I took a look at what I liked to do, and I did it. Now I am skinnier, stronger, happier, my boobs are way huger, and I feel good about who I am as a person. Not one of those things is a lie.

The greatest part about this is, technically this is a self-help blog and you just read it. So now I think you are a big freak. But seriously, anyone who knows me I think would agree that even though most people bother the living crap out of me, I am pretty happy with myself. Not in a self centered kind of way, more in the sense that I am not going to sit around and bitch about hating life but do nothing to change it. In a world where few days go smoothly, happiness is a choice. Its your decision whether you want to smile through it, or declare yourself depressed and buy some dumb book because you have a dead car battery and explosive diarrhea. I say bring on the f*cking diarrhea. If its true that you only get one life, spend it doing what you enjoy, not waiting for some asshole with a book deal to tell you what you like. And that's all I have to say about that.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Hypothetical Fun

Sometimes I think God hates me. I don't hate the rain. When it was raining for one thousand days, I didn't care that much. Toward the end I realized it was making me hungrier and that was upsetting because I don't need to get fatter, but overall, the eternal monsoon did not bother me so much.

But now that the sun is out, I realized how much of an impact the weather has on my mood. I am smiling and talking and sweating...its wonderful. But then, just when I thought things were going so swell, God remembered that I am not allowed to enjoy anything and gave me the worst case of PMS in the history of hormones. I apologize to the male readers out there, but I just need to get this out. I can't stand the sound of anyone's voice. I didn't bring a lunch today and the cafeteria is serving FLOUNDER. Nick's face makes me want to blow up the house. I am on the brink of mass murder. Happy Memorial Day weekend!

This post really has nothing to do with the weather or my womanhood at all, that was just an expression of raw emotion and passion. The real post is about something I noticed the other day that needs to be discussed in this blog because it pissed me the f off.

So lets create a hypothetical situation here...Anyone who knows me knows I love hypothetical situations so I am really pumped about this. OK, so in this scenario you really want to make some money so you can be ballin and put some sick rims on your ride. After countless hours of brainstorming, you come up with the idea that you are going to walk around with a 30 pack of Keystones and offer one to any homeless person who is willing to pee in a bucket. Then, when you have a big enough supply of rancid piss, you are going to sell the idea to grocery stores as an energy drink. We will call it...Golden Shower.

After a few weeks of urination station, you actually manage to convince some stores to carry Golden Shower. However, sales are not what your expected and your car still only has 3 hubcaps. But then, miraculously, you receive a call from the FDA. They want you to know that homeless people are now much happier in major cities all over the country because not only are they getting free beer, but this whole piss business is making them feel like they have a purpose. The FDA wants to cut you a deal. They get a portion of the piss profits, and in exchange, they are going to fund 75% of your Keystone purchases and consult with YOU over the design of the 2011 Food Pyramid. Hepatitis Martini anyone???

The point of this story is, you would have people sucking homeless piss for breakfast, lunch and dinner if this really happened to you. And even though this particular scenario may never happen (yes it will,) in a way this is EXACTLY what is going on in America today. I saw a sign in my work cafeteria called “2010 Food Guidelines” and it went on and on and on about the importance of whole grains. Further inspection of this sign revealed that it was a product of General Mills.BULLLLLSHITTTTT. Whole grains are the Golden Shower of General Mills. They would have to be mothereffing idiots to not include as many grains on that sign as possible. Grains are not healthy, they are a business. A humungous business that the government makes big bucks off of. Thankfully, I am here to tell you this so you can become super smart and awesome but still not as pretty as me. I'm not a miracle worker.

Grains suck. That's the bottom line. So next time you go to eat your stupid “heart healthy” Kashi crap, think about Golden Shower and yell “hell no!” and punt the box out the window for the homeless people. I am pretty sure they will appreciate the excitement because they aren't going to have much to do until I can save up enough quarters to buy some Keystones.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Life Lessons From a True Genius

I made up a phrase and people hate it. NEVER have I had the experience where I used this phrase on someone and they were like “ I get it, that makes sense. You are so beautiful and smart I want to take you through the Dairy Queen drive-thru so many times.” Nope. Everyone hates it. I made up this phrase as a way to respond to people when they ask me why I so often prioritize exercise over fun things like binge drinking and unprotected sex with strangers. I say “ You have to give and take. And you have to pick and choose when you take.” I get the feeling that when I say this, people start to feel awkward because they don't ever really say anything back. This will have no impact on my use of this phrase.

Admittedly, this little saying could use some work. I mean, people aren't going to put that in their Facebook profiles with tons of :) ***** <3 <3 **** around it. But I have never been one to try and please the people, and I think that this phrase relays the point I am trying to make quite well. YOU CAN'T JUST DO WHATEVER YOU WANT ALL THE TIME. Maybe for one year you can, but eventually it will catch up with you and you will just be sitting there all alone staring at your fat body and empty bank account and probably wondering “ why did this happen to me????” I can tell you why. BECAUSE YOU'RE AN IDIOT.

We all know that eating is fun. We all know that drinking is fun. Put the two together and I am showing up even if I wasn't invited. I had a brief stint where every single day my life was a party. I lived at home and had a shitbox car, so all my money was extra and I was ready to spend it on Twisted Teas and Applebee's (rhyming.) You know what happened to me? I got fat, I got acne, I saved no money, and LET ME TELL YOU aint on the inside until you are 50, divorced, and on just praying not to die alone. When you are 22, fat and drunk, you could be the funniest, smartest, coolest (I am all of these things) girl in da hood, and the homeboys don't give a shit.

MORAL OF THE STORY. You can't take all the time. Its like a friendship...if you never offer to be the designated driver, you're a shitty friend. Likewise, if you just drink booze and eat nachos and never take care of your body, you're a shitty human. OK, maybe that's a little extreme, but you certainly aren't doing yourself any favors. Especially in the long run. If you are binge drinking and overeating throughout your twenties, even if there isn't any visible damage now, who knows what problems will result from your lifestyle later down the road! Odds are, if you are spending all your time boozing out at the clubs you are pretty self absorbed, so what exactly are you going to do when you start to get the alchy-face and are too fugly to shake your ass in VIP anymore? Oh, the horror.

I'm not perfect. There are plenty of Saturdays where I am looking at an empty bottle of wine by 10pm and I am talking about the big bottle. BUT, if you rewound 24 hours back in Haley's Life Tape, you would see me refusing millions upon millions of offers to go out and drink so that I can go and get my swell on at the gym. Friday night and Saturday morning, you will find me at CrossFit508.And yes you read that correctly, I really do drag my gigantic, lanky ass out of bed on Saturdays at 6:15am to exercise. And that is called giving, my little blog followers. This way later on, if I do decide to take from the plethora of pleasures that this world has to offer me ( usually in the form of wine, pizza and gummis,) I can feel a little less like a fat, lazy, slob.

Give and take. You gotta give and then you can take. You should always give more than you take. Any way you word it, this phrase sucks.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Festivus Recap: Long and Delightful

So, this past weekend I competed in “A Festivus for the Rest of Us” at CrossFit Relentless in ghettolicious Hartford, CT. Since I know that a lot of people who read this blog are still confused about what CrossFit really is, I thought “ What better way to describe what CrossFit is all about than to recap this whole event and embarrass all my CrossFit friends?” So here it is. “Festivus for the Rest of Us: According to Haley.”

I have to give Dawn Marie (owner of CrossFit508) credit for her approach in asking us to take part in this event. She told us about it months in advance, which was a genius way to get us all to sign up. Everybody is brave when something is months away. But,as the day of the competition drew closer and closer, the Facebook posts started flying about how fricken nervous we all were. Everyone started really honing in on training hard in that final week before the competition, and I THOUGHT everyone was going to have their eating in check. Boy did I overestimate everyone (including myself.) Maureen ate 5 Guys, Nicole had an ice cream, and I had 13 munchkins the day before. We may not be perfect, but we are fun.

Anyways, on a regular day at CrossFit508, I get yelled at for talking and not doing what I am supposed to at least 500 times. If you think that is bad, I am surprised that Pam is even allowed to come back. We just have a lot to say! But in that half hour before the competition started, it was like you were at a school for the deaf. We were all making crazy faces and pretending to focus on stretching, but really we were all petrified for what was ahead of us...a 2k row for time.

If you have never done a 2000 meter row for time before, I would not suggest doing this ever. As part of our Paleo Challenge back in March we all were required to row 2k, so we were FULLY aware of how bad our lives were about to suck. Maureen went first and set a 51 second PR which was awesome to see. I think she just wanted it over with because she had to stare at William on his crutches screaming at her the whole time. Nicole was next up with a major PR as well. I made the mistake of yelling in her ear that she was halfway done, which is something nobody wants to hear in a 2k row. You want to be ALL done. Then, after watching everyone sweat, pant, and grunt, it was time for Janet, Pam and myself to get on the rowers. We all lined up, cute as buttons, right next to each other and, just like Maureen and Nicole before us, we all hit new personal records. The pictures from this scene are terrifying. I have jelly rolls, we all have red faces, and its just a hot mess. But hey guess what? We rowed 2k as hard as we could and you didn't, so whatever a-hole.

After the row, I think everyone calmed down a little, and we all walked around on our numb legs for a few minutes before the next event. In the next workout,we had seven minutes to achieve a maximum weight deadlift, and I was planning on throwing up a Hail Mary for 250. I secretly thought that if I could pull that off, it would be the best female deadlift of the day. NOPE. Some chick pulled 300. And a bunch of other girls were working with what looked like WAY more than 250. These heats were small as weight plates were limited, so there were several instances where we didn't know anyone in the heat, but cheered them on like freaks anyways. We are just that nice. And I think we all have ADD and will take any opportunity to scream at someone.

Anyways, just like the first event, EVERYONE hit personal records on their deadlifts. I was so happy to get that 250 that I high-fived my judge about thirty times and now he hates me. I actually got 255 up, but I am an idiot and dropped it which is not allowed so it didn't count. Nobody from 508 was surprised that I did that. Bitches don't give me no respect.

At this point in the day, we were all feeling pretty good about our personal records, and I don't think anybody had their panties in a knot over this last event. It was just straight up CrossFit: 4 rounds for time of a 400 meter run, 20 kettle bell swings, and ten box jumps. No reason for panic there, we all had done those things a million times. We were so ready.

YEAH RIGHT. I watched Maureen go first and I could tell by her face that she was wishing for death. She kicked ass and got through the workout like a champion with her little ponytail flowing in the breeze, but I could see it in her eyes that this was going to be worse than I was anticipating. By chance, Nicole, Pam, Janet and I all ended up in the same heat which gave me a little bit of comfort. This was familiar to me. I work out with these idiots every day. We have the even bigger idiots on the sidelines cheering us on. What could go wrong?

Oh, A LOT. First of all, on that first run I knew things were going to suck when my legs felt cemented to the ground. Poor Sage standing down at the 400 meter mark must have gotten so many terrifying looks from the runners as he yelled out things like “ You can catch her!” and “Last round!” I am sure when it was over everyone appreciated the cute little kid yelling inspirational quotes at the top of his lungs, but at the time all I could do was look at him and gasp “Oh my god!” He's a Crossfitter, he understands.

Every single 508 athlete finished those 4 rounds without walking once. Not a sign of giving up on anyone's face. We all trotted along and never stopped, no matter how badly we just wanted to lay on the ground and be done with it. A lot of this is owed to our 508 cheering section, who screamed at me all 8 times I ran past them during that event. Put a little spring in my slow, pathetic step. I mean I really am surprised that my legs still worked at this point. Maureen, Pam, Nicole and know what I am talking about! AND,my shoe came untied in a Brian Ray moment of shoe malfunction. God that last workout was a bitch.

OK, if you are still reading at this point you need to get a life right now. This is the longest post ever. I am really not trying to beat this day to death, and talk about how great it was over and over until everyone wants to murder me, but it really was a very special day. I think that we all went into this competition with some level of self doubt, but we all ended the day knowing that we are capable of more than we think. Again, thank you to everyone who came out to support us, and to all the coaches who put up with us when the gym seems more like a kindergarten classroom than a gym for adults. If you told me five years ago that I would be competing in a fitness competition I would have laughed and then yelled at you for interrupting my phone call to Dominoes. I owe so much to CrossFit and all the people that have come into my life because of this sport. And I think I am just going to end this here with one gigantic YEAH BUDDY!

Quick and painless.

First one to hit the final WOD. Look at that form!

Hey asshole, don't drop that.


I really like these boots.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Easter Fun

Happy Easter!!! Easter is the worst. For some reason I used to get excited about it when I was a little freak child. We would leave out carrots and I would ask tons of questions about the Easter Bunny's mode of transportation. But now I don't really care about Easter, because last year I got Nick a giant basket filled with candy AND Paleo food, AND I woke up at 5am to display it perfectly on the kitchen table, and WHAT DID I GET IN RETURN? Nothing. A giant teeth smile. I hate that kid.

I shouldn't have even mentioned Easter because now I feel like I am keeping secrets if I don't tell everyone that my family is going to the 99 to celebrate the resurrection. This is not a joke. I mean, I am not complaining because my Dad will pay for it and they have 22oz Wachussett Blueberries on draft, but wtf is wrong with my family? I am going to show up wearing the Easter outfit I had on in a picture I recently found of myself ; a blue, long-sleeved dress, white tights, white shoes with buckles, a white straw hat suctioned to my giant head, and holding a balloon that says Happy Easter. The picture was taken last year.

Since it is the Friday before a holiday, this is pretty much the obligatory “don't go too crazy you huge, gigantic, disgusting, fatass” post. I am going to eat some Reese eggs and over a thousand Sour Patch Kids, but I am really going to try to keep my meals as Paleo and gluten free as possible. When I eat gluten I get pimples and that's not sexy. If I am ever going to find a boyfriend who will buy me an Easter basket I can't be rolling around town with a zit face. Gross.

If you don't celebrate Easter, you should just use this day as an excuse to eat candy and drink. I do that all the time when I see that other people are having fun at events I wasn't invited to. If I go on Facebook and see one person's status saying they are at a party, I am instantaneously out the door to buy a 30 pack and some onion dip for a one man bender. Fun is my middle name. Just kidding its Marie, Just kidding its Sex Warrior.

Happy Easter!

Friday, April 15, 2011

Flop Flop Flop

Over the course of my life, I have noticed a lot of things, some relevant, some ridiculous. For instance, some people put their blinker on to get on the highway. This is ridiculous. WHY would anybody do that in a million years? The oncoming cars are never wondering whether you are going to merge or just go barreling off into the wilderness for fun. Something tells me Brian Ray is the world's worst offender of the unnecessary merging blinker. Let's just all make a pact now that unless we are putting on our right blinker and committing suicide, NO BLINKERS TO MERGE! OK THANKS!

Anyways, while my blinker rage may be a good example of a meaningless observation, I do happen to notice some other things that are a little more important. For example, I have noticed that there are two types of “exercisers” in the world, and that every single person falls into one of the types. I know that when HGW was just a wiiiiittle bitty baby, I put up a post about the types of people that you see in a regular gym. This is different, yo. This post is less about people's workout antics, and more about their motives. Its way more deep and soulful because I am getting older and using spirituality to cope with the realization of my own mortality. And I also needed something to write about.

So lets start with Type 1. I will refer to this group as the “Floppers.” If you are a Flopper, you come into the gym, usually 3 to 4 times a week and flop around. You get on the elliptical and flop your way through an episode of Two and a Half Men. Then you might flop your arms around with some 5lb dumbbells and call it a day. For guys, you usually flop around on the treadmill at the slowest pace ever, and then go and do 3 bench presses with twenty minute breaks in between. How do you spend the breaks? By draping your bodies over the machines, staring at girls in full makeup, and drinking weird protein shakes...AKA flopping around. Floppers exercise because they think its the thing to do. Their workouts never change and improvements are rare. I know this because I used to be the greatest Flopper of them all. Except I did my elliptical time during Jeopardy and skipped the free weights in favor of the free tanning. Tannest, fattest, factoid machine. But hey, I was going to the gym wasn't I?

I don't have a name for the second group of exercisers. I thought I was creative, but apparently my self esteem is too high. I tried to think of the most determined and courageous person in the world, but all I come up with was Dumbledore and that's gay. But don't fret my pets, because what this group lacks in name, it makes up for in street cred. These are the people who exercise for IMPROVEMENT. The people who make physical fitness a measure of success. People like ME. I measure my success in 3 ways; good relationships, good career, good fitness. If one area is lacking, I go shithouse, pound a bottle of wine, cry, and fake being sick so people pay attention to me. Sorry fellas....I'm taken.

MY POINT IS...don't be a flopper. If you are going to take the time to exercise, its pointless to hate it the whole time. Flailing around on the elliptical to maintain your flabby body is stupid as hell. Make exercise a priority. Make it an area of your life where you set and achieve goals. I guarantee you will not only start to like working out, but you will also start to look better which is a good thing because I know who reads this blog and most of you are not going to be winning any hot body contests anytime soon. BOOM.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Death and Finding Inspiration: A Blogger's Strife

I think I am dead. I have been sick for a week and it isn't getting better. It's from the community M&M's at work. I have the world's worst case of germophobia, but I can't keep my fat hands out of that effing M&M dish. Those little f*ckers are PEANUT BUTTER. Everyone who knows me is well aware that I am more of a gummi girl, so I had never had peanut butter M&M's until like 2 weeks ago and I am pissed about it. They are wonderful. Once I ate one, it just turned into a non-stop M&M party which led to me contracting the Ebola virus and losing the ability to tell if I am alive or not. Moral of the story: stick with the gummis.

So feeling like absolute dick has really put a damper on this blog in the sense that I haven't posted in over a week. I was also having trouble finding inspiration, and if you are a brilliant mind like me, you know that genius needs to be inspired. But, alas, inspiration came to me, as it most often does, in the form of an annoyance. Listening to people talk about diets and health. Makes me insane.

I know that I can't expect everyone to be Paleo, but it really is hard for me to keep my mouth shut sometimes. I talk a lot and I like to know things, so when I hear people talking about reduced fat Wheat Thins and shit, it takes everything in me to keep quiet. Its 2011...why are you eating Wheat Thins?

I get it, knowing what to eat is confusing. Do you eat low carb? Do you do Weight Watchers? Do you count calories? There are a lot of questions out there for a person looking to get (and stay) healthy. But I have to think that in 2011, you have to know that processed crackers are bad news. Don't get me wrong, you can go from a diet of all fast food, to a diet of lean turkey sandwiches and low-fat CheezIts and you will probably lose some POUNDS. But I am telling you right now, if you lose your weight on a high carb, low calorie diet, you will have chicken legs and arms with the world's jiggliest belly. Super fun time!

I love it when I think someone is thin, and then I see pictures of them on Facebook in a bikini and I am like “ Holy mother of Christ nice rolls, Jigglepuff.” Its called skinny-fat and in my opinion it is worse than fat-fat. When I was a fatty there were no false pretenses. I had a nice tan, nice hair, giant boobs, but I was a little fat and everyone knew it. Honesty, people. Its all about the honesty. Show the world your giant bod. On the flipside, there are chicks out there who look like pipe cleaners, but you get their clothes off and its like they are made of white Nickelodeon Gack. Talk about awkward. Whats the point of being skinny then? Who are you the friggin devil? If I was a dude and I thought I was scoring a chick with a hot bod only to find out her skin looked like it was full of cottage cheese while simultaneously melting off her body I would flip the f*ck out. That's false advertising in the worst kind of way. WORSE than a giant push up bra if you ask me. I can work with little boobs, but surprise belly rolls are just grounds for ending whatever was going on in the first place. (Note: This is coming from the perspective of me pretending to be a young single male. Since I do not fit that profile, I cannot speak for everyone, or anyone actually, in this age demographic. Some people are chubby chasers and if you are one, please contact me because I have so, so so, many questions.)

This is where my mind goes when people start talking about foods they think are healthy. Even Dr. Oz, who I think is literally an alien, agrees that ALL NATURAL foods are the way to go. Even if people were confused about whether or not beans are healthy (they aren't) and eating too much fruit, it would not upset me because those foods are at least natural! If you are standing there announcing to anyone who will listen that you are going to be so skinny because you eat mini bags of cinnamon rice cakes, you are just stupid. You are going to have a weird, bloated, disproportionate body, and I am going to laugh so hard at all your bikini pictures when you post them on Facebook. So hard.

The point of this post was not to be malicious. I have been a fatty before, and I got nothin but love for all you large orders out there just trying to make it in the world. As long as you are happy, I am happy. But, if you are currently at an unhealthy weight, and considering some strange, low calorie, crash diet to get thin, you should really consider prioritizing your HEALTH over your WEIGHT. I guarantee you, that if you focus on feeding your body an all natural, nutritious, and as gluten free as possible diet, the weight loss will happen. Or, you could go the other way, and stuff your face full of 100 calorie packs of Chips Ahoy and that weird Pirate's Booty shit, and turn into the flabbiest freak on the planet. Whatever way you decide to go, please still plan on posting the semi-nudes on Facebook. K, thanks bye.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Holy Cow

I would never describe myself as an animal lover. I love some dogs. I love some cats. I pretty much hate every other kind of animal. Baby pigs are cute, I guess. And monkeys are okay if they don't bite and don't have that gigantic visible asshole. But if we are in the trust tree here, I am going to just come out and tell you that if I run over a squirrel I don't cry. Although I did cry when I ran over a turtle because it wasn't his fault he was born a slow mover (like Nick.) And I also cried that time a cat ran into my back wheel and catapulted into a bus stop full of people doing high speed cartwheels (the cat was doing the cartwheels, not the people.) Whatever. The point is, while you will never catch me working for the ASPCA, my new “thing” is to really care about where the cows I eat come from, what they are being fed, and how they are being treated. I love having new “things.” This one is almost as cool as when my “thing” was wearing Harley Davidson clothes in 11th grade. Except I don't think caring about cows will make nearly as many people think I am a douchebag. By the way I don't know if cartwheel cat lived or died.

Recently I have started eating a lot of grass fed beef that I purchase at a farmer's market in North Attleboro. The main reason I like this beef better is because not only is it hormone free, but it is also totally full of an acid called CLA that helps to reduce abdominal fat. HIGH FIVE! Admittedly, I notice very little, if any, difference in the taste between this beef and the beef I could buy at Stop and Shop, but it makes me feel a little better knowing that the meat I am eating is increasing my level of sexiness. I only have a few more good years before I have to get an old lady haircut, so I will take all the sexiness assistance I can get for the time being.

Another reason I like this beef is because it is not produced at a giant, disgusting slaughterhouse. If you have seen the movie Food Inc, you will know that the big slaughterhouses process thousands of cows an hour and employ tons of illegal immigrants who work in abysmal conditions. Think about it. Countless cow carcasses flying around on hooks being inspected by people who probably don't give a shit about their job because it SUCKS? Who the hell knows what is getting into that beef! Probably finger nails and cow balls and cow hair and AIDS. Gross. My cows go to a small slaughterhouse in Vermont and fly around dead in much smaller groups. Less flailing carcasses, less room for error, less AIDS.

Finally, I like to eat grass fed beef whenever I can because it is SAFE. A lot of people don't know this, but E-Coli does not exist in grass fed cows. I can eat this meat, cooked whatever way I want, knowing that I am not going to die painfully from E-Coli after several days of hallucinating and puking up blood clots. The United States government is at the point where it profits so much from corn production, that rather than just STOP feeding cows corn all together to prevent E-Coli, they are just pumped full of unnatural antibiotics to kill the bacteria. Feeding cows corn is cheap, so why stop just because its harmful to them? This would be like if you ate laundry detergent all the time because its cheap, but then took drugs so you wouldn't die. That's dumb, and everyone would hate you. Luckily, now you know this, and you can start to look into purchasing locally raised grassfed beef instead. Party!

To wrap this up, I just want to pull on your heart strings a little and tell you that the cows living in giant warehouses, being fed corn, and waiting to die are not happy cows. They never get to go outside, and they never get any love (sexually from other cows or platonic love from humans.) The cows I eat get to go out in the fields and eat and take huge craps and have tons of sex all day. I like to imagine that the farmer hugs them and kisses them and names them things like Cuddles, Sprinkles, and T-Pain. Keep in mind, the same rules apply for pigs and chickens, and it is always better to eat grassfed pork and pastured chickens whenever you can. This post is dedicated to the possibly dead, but also maybe still alive, Cartwheel Cat.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Happy Flingin Flangin Friday!

For some reason this week was the longest week of my life. And now there is an hour left, thank christ. HOW BOUT THIS WEATHER, HUH??? I ALMOST feel like its a nice, warm, spring day where I leave work and go directly home to eat steak and drink beer outside. I would punch a blind orphan square in the dick if that could be what I was really doing tonight. Instead I am going to the gym and making a grocery list. Then I will most likely fall asleep before 10pm. ***gLaMoUr GiRl***

This weekend I plan on cooking and not spending one dollar on anything other than food. I don't really feel 100% today, so this will be a good chance for me to just strap on my homeless guy suit and just really be myself. What that means is that I will be wearing pants with Spongebob on them and swearing a lot. Feel free to drop by!

I am particularly excited about one recipe I am going to make tomorrow, which is pineapple chunks wrapped in bacon. I don't even think I have ever held a whole pineapple in my hands before, so this will be like an episode of the Helen Keller cooking show and I can't wait! If the recipe is a success, I will post it so you can all try it out. Maybe if you're lucky I will even take a (NSFW) picture of me and my Paleo creation!

Have a good weekend everyone! All the Paleo challengers, stay strong, we are past the halfway mark! To all you normal people, drink a box of Franzia to your face in my honor! See ya next week!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Someone Buy Me Some Nose Drops...

Oh my god, I can't breathe. Seriously I have snorted so much nasal spray in the past two days its to the point where I am going to have to spend five bucks on another bottle. This pisses me off to no end. For any of you who don't know, I am severely addicted to nasal spray and its never going to end so keep your comments to yourself, asshole. When you are a freak like me who is allergic to literally EVERYTHING, those drops become your most prized possession. If I am out in public and realize I don't have them I FREAK OUT. Its scary and strange, and this is asinine, so lets get back to what the real point of this post...I cant breathe.

Why cant I breathe? Some of you might say that it might have something to do with those two asshat cats I have running around my house. WRONG. For your information, after a few weeks of dripping snot all over the house with my big, swollen Bride of Chuckie face, I actually adjusted to the cats and returned to my sexy, relatively snot free self. So again, keep your comments to yourself, asshole.

The reason why I can't breathe is because I am a big, fat girl on the inside who made up a million excuses to eat chocolate on Valentine's Day even though I am in a Paleo challenge. You may be saying to yourself “ Why the hell would this make you unable to breathe?” Well, I will tell you why. Its because sugar causes inflammation, which makes my allergies so bad that I cant even leave the house. I am going to try to explain the science behind this (OMG.) But I must warn you, even though I drew a weird picture of myself with no neck surrounded by beakers of bubbling liquid in my “When I Grow Up” first-grade drawing, I am not a scientist. Just the best blogger on the webz.

OK. Sugar is not recognized by doctors as an allergen because essentially, most of the food we eat is broken down into glucose by the body because that's what the brain uses for fuel. However, when we eat large amounts of sugar or high fructose corn syrup, it puts a MAJOR strain on our digestive system because, as humans, we are not meant to eat sugar. The human body has the ability to convert ANYTHING it takes in (including delicious protein) to glucose for brain fuel, so when I say LARGE AMOUNTS of sugar, it pretty much means ANY sugar as we do not need to consume it AT ALL. The sugar interferes with the absorption of vitamins, triggers inflammation of the digestive system, lowers our immune system, and can even f*ck with your metabolism (fat, fat, fat, big body, fat.) Thus, in plain English, when my body is working correctly: NO ALLERGIES. When I eat sugar like a total d-bag: ALLERGIES.

What this means to me, is that not only do I have other allergies that are made worse by sugar consumption, but who is to say I don't have some sort of intolerance to sugar itself? Sugar has been linked to a whole slew of problems in people including fatigue, joint pain, muscle cramping, and just being a total fatass. My friend Whitney says eating sugar makes her crazy, and it just so happens, people have reported that after eating sugar they noticed that they have more severe PMS. WHIT WAS THAT THE SHOUT OUT YOU WERE HOPING FOR?

If you take nothing from this post other than that I have weird allergies and Whit is batshit crazy, at least promise me you will give some thought to the dangers of sugar. We already know it makes us fat, but now there is a pretty good chance that it is also filling us up with boogers. Nothing worse than a big fatty blowing their nose all over the place and disrupting your peace and quiet when you are trying to blog your ass off in silence. Lay off the pixie sticks, and maybe you could stop sounding like a sex goose with all your mucus over there. Sex goose.

Thursday, February 10, 2011


At first I was kicking myself in the ass for not taking a picture of these cookies, but then I remembered that they literally look like absolute yeti shit. No joke. But they taste amazing and they are 98% Paleo, so I am going to post the recipe.

I am not lying when I say that everyone who has tried these little shit nuggets loves them. I am also not lying when I say that I ate 40 of them over a 2 day span one time. For those of you who are keeping track, thats an average of 20 cookies a day which beats my last record of 18 sugar cookies in one sitting. Does anyone else think I was supposed to be born a boy? Seriously...deep voice, no desire whatsoever to say things like "lmao" or "hun," and the appetite of the entire Hogan family? Well, add THAT to the list of things for me to stress out about. Right between "the apocolypse in December 2012" and "what color to get for my manicure"....yep, we will squeeze in "being a boy" right there.



- 2 cups flax seed
- 2 cups diced walnuts (in the baking aisle)
- one bag organic dried apple rings
- 1 cup of honey
- cinnamon
- 2 eggs
- vanilla


1. Get a giant bowl and dump in the flax seed and the walnuts.

2. Microwave the cup of honey for thirty seconds. Add that to the bowl.

3. Add the two eggs to the bowl.

4. Add a little vanilla. About one tablespoon.

5. Chop up the apple rings into little bits, and add them to the bowl. As many as you want.

6. Stir the shit out of it and add so much cinnamon. Seriously, so much. I always overdo everything, and even I think I add a lot of cinnamon. Like a good 20 shakes or more.

7. Scoop little spoonfuls onto a buttered cookie sheet. You will need two cookie sheets, this recipe makes a lot of these little f*ckers. Also, they won't expand, so jam pack that tray.

8. Put in the oven on 350 for about 11 minutes.

9. MOST IMPORTANT STEP. The cookies will look absolutely terrible, and they will be so soft. Let them cool on the counter for 25 minutes and then I would recommend moving them to the fridge. They WILL harden.

10. Eat 20 today, and 20 tomorrow.

These cookies are better than regular cookies because they are gluten free and all natural. They also have a VERY low amount of honey per cookie as the one cup is spread out over the whole batch. As they get colder, they will stop looking like crap. But once you taste them you won't care how they look because these things are mad good.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Check it Out!


Now if you read something you like on here you can share it on Facebook! These days even geriatrics are addicted to Facebook, so I am really hoping that this will increase the number of people reading my blog to AT LEAST 25.

So here it is! Haley in 2011...getting all technological on your asses and linking my blog to Facebook! Put this day in the books under MAJOR SUCCESS.

Also, you can "Like" Health Gone Wild as well with just one quick click. I will not be installing the "Mark as Offensive" button.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Sorry...Can't Eat That!!!

In recent weeks, a lot of people have been mentioning to me that it is hard to eat Paleo at parties. I agree with my little Paleo buddies 100%. In fact, every party I have ever attended has been pretty non-Paleo friendly with the exception of one, my uncle/aunt's birthday this past weekend. It was awesome. There was so much meat available because they read this blog every day and know very well that I have no problem causing major physical (but mostly emotional) damage to people who don't do what I want. Long hair, don't care. But sometimes, people don't know how scary I am, and they just go ahead like a total dick and throw a pizza party without asking me if that's what they should do. What the hell? This puts me in the worst situation of all time, except for maybe that time my steering wheel stopped working on the highway (really happened.) I can't eat pizza, but I don't feel like explaining Paleo to people who don't care and probably already hate me, so what the shizz should I do?

Every dedicated Paleo follower knows that it sucks when there is great food available to you and you can't eat it. The suckiness of the situation is amplified when the food is free. I love eating and I am poor as shit. Free donuts are lookin pretty good to me all the time. If I was going to be fiscally responsible, I would pound those donuts before anyone else could get there, and act confused when whoever bought them wanted to know where they went. But this isn't fatty dreamland, its Earth, and on Earth people who eat donuts get fat and die. So even if in the short term eating any form of free food appears to be the smarter choice, if I ever want to live long enough to be a billionaire blogger with the sexiest body over 50, I need to watch what the f I am eating. Thus, sadly I must always pass on free donuts. Nobody said my life was fun.

I do not want to mislead my readers into thinking that I am so perfect and never eat anything that is not Paleo. I WISH I could stay strict all the time, but the truth is, sometimes you get yourself in a situation where sticking to Paleo is just not worth it if you don't want people to think you are a total freakshow. For example, if the boss buys pizza for everyone, eat a piece. You don't want to get fired for being the ungrateful dickbag who thinks they are too good for pizza. Another example, sharing appetizers. Nobody likes the whining dinkus who sits there with their arms crossed and refuses to order nachos on a Friday night. If you have understanding friends who accept you for all your strange and annoying behaviors that's one thing, but if you are out with coworkers, or maybe some idiot actually asked you on a date, it might be best to just eat like a normal person. Don't tell the people you work with, or the person you are on a date with that you are a caveman for at LEAST 3 weeks. I would think this would be common sense, but I know some pretty stupid people, so just eat the nachos and shut up. Let them think you have that smokin bod AND eat whatever you want! No need to give up your secrets (or anything else...OK maybe if they are really rich) too soon!

If you are still confused about what situations to break Paleo in, let me break it down for you like this. Monday-Friday, you need to be strict. Eat a Paleo breakfast, lunch and dinner and try not to have any cheats. If on Thursday afternoon the boss buys pizza, take one small slice, say thank you, and then eat that slice WITH your Paleo lunch. You still want that protein. Then say Saturday comes along, and your friends order up some boneless buffalo wings. Don't have a hissy fit like a 2011 2-year-old whose parents let them “express themselves.” Eat a few of the damn wings and have a salad for dinner. A Paleo lifestyle should be a lifestyle that you enjoy, not one that forces you to be constantly worried about breaking the rules. Its not a diet, and therefore there should be no guilt experienced after the occasional slip up.

I don't really believe in reincarnation, so I am going to go out on a limb here and say that you only have one life to live. And, while eating a Paleo diet will enhance the quality and longevity of that life, pizza and nachos are delicious and people will think you're a weird serial killer if you never eat them.

In light of this 154th snow storm of 2011...I am going to post some pictures of things I like to do in the summer...ENJOY MOFOS!

I like to get my hair professionally styled.

I like to have productive Sunday afternoons.

I like to make new and exciting friends.

But what I HATE, is drawing attention to myself at the beach.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Booze 101. By: Haley

I know have touched on the topic of alcohol in a previous post. However I am currently in a Paleo challenge which forbids booze, so the subject is on my mind. Before I begin, I want to make it clear that I know alcoholism isn't funny. So if I do offend anyone its just for the sake of cheap laughs (which is the motivation behind most things I do in life.) But, while alcohol can be a touchy subject, I have never been one to fear making others uncomfortable, so here we go. Today I want to talk about the fine, and often VERY blurry, line between responsible drinking and having a problem. 1,2,3....GO!

In my opinion, responsible drinking allows for the occasional “ Oh my effing God” wake up the next morning. As long as you aren't driving and you are in good company, there is nothing wrong with having a few too many and getting a little inappropriate. You can't really say “ OK, you can be super drunk 5 times a year,” but if every couple of months you find yourself a little unsteady of your feet and talking extra loud, it isn't the end of the world. It IS the end of the world when you find yourself embarrassed, sick, lacking a memory of the night before, and with a stranger in your bed every single Sunday morning. So here is my advice on how to stop the madness...

Since this blog is theoretically dedicated to a Paleo/CrossFit lifestyle, I will begin with physical health. Alcohol is not Paleo. This means it should not be consumed in large quantities on a regular basis. This is because alcohol is simply not good for your body. Its poison. Its poison that makes you have a shitty, or even non-existent, workout the next day. This is why, if you are serious about health, you should prioritize your physical fitness over booze. This is obvious. Everyone knows alcohol is not healthy or conducive to kick-ass workouts the next day. But there are some other ways that booze holds us back that are not quite as apparent.

People who feel the need to consistently binge drink (even when it causes them a lot of problems) are insecure. Think about it. If you don't feel good about your conversational skills or your physical appearance, walking into a party or a bar filled with people is scary as hell! I remember the days of being a super fatty and marching into parties thinking everyone was just in shock of my ginormous body. But a couple Miller Lites later, I was feeling a whole lot more confident! Do you see how this could become a problem?

Self confidence is another area where Paleo/CrossFit saved me as a person. I was ALWAYS a good conversationalist (love talking, really funny, nice teeth...its just a euphoric experience talking to me,) but I was not confident about the way I looked. Now that I am, I could care less about drinking to feel more comfortable at the party. And maybe you are fine with your physical appearance, but you are worried about saying the wrong thing to that hottie with the body you've had your eye on, so you slam down 54 beers every weekend and hope for a sloppy make out rather than a conversation. Bad idea. Why not try to muster up the courage to be yourself rather than hide behind a waterfall of vodka and redbulls? I can guarantee that the real you is much better than an obnoxious, drunken alter-ego taking over your body. Just sayin...

To end this post, I just want to say that while a combination of eating Paleo and doing CrossFit was what helped me figure out what was important in life, I know that everyone (unfortunately) is not me. Maybe scratching your ass makes you feel better about yourself, I really don't care. My point is, if booze is your first priority, it is hard to have a second priority. Masking your self esteem issues with alcohol is not even a temporary fix, its an addition to the problem. Get an effing hobby. Try CrossFit. Give up drinking for a month. DO ANYTHING. I am the first one to say that booze is fun as hell, but again, there is a fine line between LOL and WTF. The end.

Hey...Nobody's perfect.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Oh No!

Well, this is definitely true. And maybe you don't know this, but I have two cats that sometimes when I think about how much I love them, I cry. I am not afraid to admit it. Definitely not a crazy cat lady, but those little guys are cute as hell!

So, if you like this blog, don't kill my cats! Get to the gym, NOW! Guys like girls who are so sexy and slendahhh and girls like the hunnies with the muscles. This all happens at the gym, not sitting around eating while innocent kittens die because of YOU!

For some reason, there has been about 45 feet of snow per day falling on Massachusetts. I get it, this makes it hard to drive. I once crashed my car in a snowstorm and it was terrifying. I get it...terror. So plan ahead, dumbass! If the weather forecast says "Oh no, Mother Nature looking like she really needs to take a giant white shit on Masachusetts on Wednesday" and Wednesday is a gym day, plan to be in that gym burpeeing it up on your rest day. Thats the way it goes, homeboy. True champions don't miss workouts. I mean it.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

That Feels Weird

Everyday a new body part hurts for me. Right now I feel like my boobs detached from my body, went to a rock fight, lost the rock fight, and came back. Some days my ass hurts so bad I will hold in my pee for 4 hours to avoid getting off the couch. These are the side effects of exercise, and often times people quit working out because they can't take the pain. I think these people are wimps and losers. I like the pain. I love it when my legs feel like Vince Wilfork had sex with a manatee on them for 5 hours. It means that all my hard work is paying off, and someday when someone tries to rape me in the liquor store parking lot I can be like “Oh, hell to the mother effing no” and kick them unconscious. Then I will be on TV and everyone will know about Health Gone Wild, and I will finally have the riches that I should have already used my stunning good looks to acquire. Where did my life go wrong?

While I do love the aches and pains that let me know my fatty fat cells are melting, I effing hate injuries. There is a major difference between the pain after a hard workout, and getting your dumb ass injured. I have had 2 injuries that I can remember, and both of them happened at really embarrassing times. First, I pulled an ab muscle doing sit ups. REALLY? You learn how to do sit ups in kindergarten and I thought the worst thing that could happen is that you rip a huge fart in the face of the fat kid holding your feet and everyone laughs. NOPE. You can pull your abs. Hurts like a bitch and there is nothing you can do about it except wait and do exercises that don't hurt. The second time I got injured, I somehow managed to eff up my shoulder GETTING OUT OF BED. Worst part of that one is that it was after I got skinny, so I couldn't even blame it on the tremendous weight of my body. In both cases I had to modify workouts for about a month and then things stopped hurting. It sucked at the time, but I am glad I did it because if it got worse I would have had to stop exercising and we all know I eat too much to be sedentary.

The point of this all is that if you are injured, DON'T JUST KEEP GOING. I have a mega huge ego. I like to wow people with my super strength and I am the first one to admit it. Nothing pisses me off more than not being able to do something. I don't like to show up at the gym and deadlift a Twizzler, that's embarrassing. Twizzlers are for bicep curls down my throat, everyone knows that. So you can know I am being an honest, though somewhat morally casual, woman when I say that I am going to benefit more from writing this post than any of you will from reading it. If it doesn't feel right, modify it. A few adjustments to the workout can keep you active without further aggravating the injury. And if you refuse to listen to me and hurt yourself so bad that you can't exercise and turn into a big fat mess that never leaves the house because you are too busy laying in bed eating steak and cheese and crushing beer cans on your head, call me, I'll come over, I just got Laguna Beach Season 2 from Netflix. Holy run on sentence...Happy Humpday!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Cooking Time!!!!!

Who loves eating? I love eating! Time for a fricken bitch ass recipe that I invented!!! It is a rare occasion when I post a recipe on here, which is ironic because that was the whole reason I started this blog. But, I am not the kind of person that can have unrestricted access to post whatever the f I want on the internet and be expected to keep it to strictly recipes and workouts. So today, lets go back to the humble beginning of HGW with a delicious recipe that will help you melt off those holiday pounds that are making you look like a big bloated weirdo. Its're fatter...but its nothing a little Paleo can't fix. Here we go!

Eggs Gone Wild

This recipe is great because it gives you an appropriate response for when some doucher out at the bar asks you if you'd like your eggs scrambled or fertilized in the morning. It also tastes good and only requires one pan (poor people friendly.)

I make this for two people usually, so if you are cooler than me and have a lot of friends just make more. You would have to be really stupid to not be able to increase this recipe.

6 eggs
one onion
one pepper
Frank's red hot
salt and pepper
sausage (optional but why the f*ck not?)

Step 1: Dice up the pepper and onion. As much as you would like. I use the whole pepper and about half an onion.

Step 2: Dice up sausage. If you are so awesome like me and have organic sausage that comes in the casing, I cut the casing open and squeeze out the inside so its more like ground beef. You could also just use ground beef.

Cooking Directions:

Step 1: Melt butter in frying pan or skillet. Make sure bottom of pan is covered in butter, please.

Step 2: Throw in the pepper and onion. Salt and pepper the shit out of it. Wait until its all a little brown so the peppers aren't super hard because that sucks.

Step 3:
Throw in your meat and move it all around a lot. More salt more pepper. Smash the meat into little bits. While this is happening, crack your eggs in a bowl, put in a splash of water and scramble them like there is no tomorrow (aka: move a fork around in the bowl so all the yolks break.)

Step 4: Add in a little salsa to the meat/veggie mix. However much you want. Couple heaping spoonfuls.

Step 5: Pour in the eggs. Directly into the pan and don't be nervous and ask 1000 times if you are supposed to do that. You are.

Step 6: With a spatula, move everything in the pan around a ton. Just keep flipping it all around with that spatula. While you are doing this, add some Frank's Red Hot and some more salsa if you want. More salt and pepper couldn't hurt either.

Step 7: When the eggs look cooked (yellow and fluffy with no brown burned parts) turn off the heat. Ready to serve immediately.

SIDE NOTE: I did not include cheese in this recipe as cheese is not Paleo. However, cheese is still low carb and delicious. I like to take a bag of shredded cheddar and just dump it on there during Step 7. Again, this is not Paleo if you use the cheese, homey.

So here is one answer to the most common question I get “ But, what do you eat for breakfast?” Try it out and let me know how it goes.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

I Call This One....Emotions....

I know I said I was going to post on New Years Eve, but I needed some more time to get this together, so if you are that mad, don't read it (please read it.) But here it is: 2010; A Riveting Reflection. By: Haley.

Success is a strange concept. Everyone always says they want to be successful, but who defines what that really means? I mean, lets take Bret Michaels for example. The dude might look just like me, but that doesn't mean the same things make us feel successful. I definitely don't consider myself to be a huge success just because I pass my weekly chlamydia screening (which I do, most of the time.) That's the difference between me and Bret. He gets through another day where his bandanna doesn't fall off and you better believe it that he will be hopping in his Rock of Love Bus to pour champagne on a gaggle of trannies in celebration. I AT LEAST, have to get some sort of praise at work or something before I bring out the trannies. Bret is so friggin tacky.

But all feminine looking male celebrities aside, in 2010, a lot changed for me. I mean, the changing most likely started before 12:00am on 1/1/10, but if I had to pinpoint a specific time when my life had a major turnaround, I would have to say 2010. Prior to good ole' twenty-ten (ahh..the glory days,) I had been interpreting the idea of “success” all wrong. Success to me was what other people told me it was. I thought I was successful if the people around me were happy, even if I wasn't. If nobody was pissed off at me, I was doing everything right. And guess what? My life sucked. Thankfully, around the beginning of last year, as I began getting really into CrossFit and just paying more attention to my health in general, my eyes opened to the fact that I was living like an idiot. And no, I didn't drive drunk off a cliff or almost choke to death in a gang bang and have some “awakening” experience. I just slowly transitioned into a new lifestyle that encouraged looking inward to find my definition of success, rather than constantly trying to find it through others approval.

Once I began doing CrossFit and getting my diet in check I realized something important. Nobody is going to take care of me except for me. Taking care of myself physically made me feel and look great, and I began to realize that I was feeling better emotionally as well. In the past, when people had lashed out at me because I wasn't living life according to their rules, I had always assumed there was something wrong with ME and would feel so much remorse for upsetting a friend or family member that I would end up giving into their demands. 2010 Haley learned how to tell people to go f*ck themselves. If you care about me, you will be happy that I am living life the way I want to. If you want to bitch at me, like I said, go screw. I determine my own success these days, and to me that means, working out consistently, eating right, maintaining healthy relationships, and bringing positive energy to any situation I enter.

OK, enough angry black girl. The point I am trying to make here is that 2010 was the best year of my life so far. It was the year I started to alter my definition of success from pleasing others to pleasing myself (so obviously my dreams of someday being a call girl to the rich and famous went right out the window.) A huge part of this change is owed to my experiences with CrossFit. CrossFit provides a person with an environment that I have not witnessed anywhere else. It teaches people to take accountability. If you show up to class and suck so bad, you can't turn to the person next to you and yell at them for doing better than you. The only person you can blame is yourself. If you have a big ego or a bad attitude, you take one class and you don't come back. I've seen it a thousand times. CrossFit weeds out the wimps pretty quick. No whiny douchebags allowed. And being surrounded by non-whiny douchebags at CrossFit has helped me to see that I am a smart, funny, positive, unique, and GOOD person who does not need to tolerate being treated like dirt for not living my life the way other people think I should. Worry about yourselves people, and if you ever feel like you need a positive change, come check out a free intro class at CrossFit508. Separates the super cool from the super d-bags. Which one do you think you are?

All in all, 2010 was awesome. It was the year that I finally became me. It took something as consuming and challenging as CrossFit to help me realize that I had been living a life I wasn't loving. Now, I am happy everyday and I'm not lying. Obviously I have my moments where I scream and yell and want to commit heinous murders, but I no longer have that feeling of constant anxiety that the next choice I make is going to displease someone else. I was the battered wife of the world and now I am effing OJ Simpson...too much?

The reality is, you only get one life. You need to live the one life you get for YOU. If other people don't like it, who gives a f*ck. I am not speaking to those people out there who torture their loved ones with drug addictions and steal money from blind old ladies and act like total dicks. You people suck. I am talking to those people who are like me. The people who spent too much time basing their success off of what others thought. The people who just wanted to be happy, but didn't have the courage or the resources to make a change. This could be your year! 2010 was my year so you can't have it, but 2011 is up for grabs mofos! Its never too late to stop measuring your success by what others think, and start looking internally to find out what really makes you feel successful! Here is some added incentive: If you truly achieve personal success this year, and decide to throw yourself a little soiree...I will pose as Bret Michaels at the event. I'll even provide the trannies.

Happy 2011, everyone! May this be the year HGW (just made that up) gets its 20th follower!

This is a picture from Christmas Eve 2010 at CrossFit508. I didn't take the picture, it was put on Facebook. I didn't win a prize :( but as always, it was a great day!