In the autumn of 2004, I weighed 240 pounds. Not a very provocative way to begin, I know, but trust me - it gets better. Now, I know what you're thinking: "5'10"? 240? Wow, he has a weight problem." (Of course, you'd probably only be thinking that particular thought if you knew how tall I was, but I digress.) You would be correct in your reaction, however, but I didn't have nearly as negative a response to my situation. Why? Because - at one point - I was 340 pounds.

(And I was a bit shorter then, too.)

So, as you might imagine, most of the time I was generally thrilled to be 240 pounds. Granted, I fluctuated between 235 and 250, but all I had to do was think about how far I had come, with just a bit of exercise.

Most of the time, that is. On this particular evening, however, this knowledge was insufficient. On this particular evening, we were playing strip poker.

(Incidentally - you're going to learn a lot about me, as you read this article. Probably much more than you'd ever really wanted to know about anyone. Trust me, this is just the tip of the iceberg, and it's generally as painful for me to tell as it is for you to read. Oh, and sorry for the aside - you'll probably grow to hate these, but that's the price you pay for such a non-linear method of storytelling/journalism.)

The details of how we decided on such a pastime are unimportant - in fact, to the best of my admittedly hazy recollection, there was only one girl playing, so I'm not sure why we were engaging in the activity in the first place. (I'm not in any way suggesting that me playing a game of strip poker was anything seedier than jovial, stupid fun. I mean, if you think about it, what could be less sexy than sitting around on wooden chairs with a group comprised mostly of guys, sporting beer guts and cans of PBR, in various states of undress? Bah - you could be playing with the cast of Charlie's Angels and it wouldn't be enough to make that scenario titillating.)

I apologize again for the digression; there I sat, playing a 2 AM game of strip poker trying desperately not to lose, lest I be required to show to my friends my great detail of mass. Well, if you know anything about gambling, you'll know that usually the more desperate you are correlates inversely with how well you do. Tonight was no exception. It didn't take long before I was faced with a choice: do I remove my shirt, or my pants?