My friend's cousin just lost 230 pounds. Damn. That's a lot of weight. He went from 485 pounds down to 255! I tip my hat to him. (Okay, I'm not really wearing a hat. And if I were, I wouldn't actually tip it. That's gay. But you get the point. )

Anyway– (But now I guess I should apologize to the gay community for my insensitive use of the word "gay." That wasn’t cool. Gay community, I'm sorry.)

Okay. Where were we? Oh yes, the weight loss-- I'm happy that he lost all that weight, but here's the thing- when you’re already 485 pounds, I say: GO FOR 500! C’mon! It’s only 15 pounds away. That’s like two Bloomin’ Onions at The Outback and you're done. Then you can go ahead and lose all the weight you want.

I know, I know… I’m missing the point. Now he'll be "healthy." Now he'll "live longer." Now he won't be a "giant load." Believe me, I know. I was the fat kid that everyone picked on until I was 18 years old. I'm not an insensitive prick. What my friend's cousin did was truly an impressive feat.

But 500 would have been pretty cool.