I Lost 80 Pounds So I Wouldn’t Have To Face Braun Strowman
I’ve been getting a ton of crap lately from people saying I’m afraid to fight Braun Strowman. Well, I am scared. Wouldn’t you be? Braun’s a mastodon of a man who we’ve seen dislodge humans and motor vehicles alike on Monday Night Raw over the past few years. That’s not going to happen to me, and I figured out how to get out of it. I lost 80 pounds so I wouldn’t have to face Braun Strowman.
Before you get all fired up about it, you should know a few things. I didn’t purposefully start to lose weight to get out of this match. Once they announced the fight, I shit myself violently. I’m talking some World War II, Normandy diarrhea. Then there was a few weeks where I couldn’t eat anything. My stomach was in total knots. Anything I ate came right back up. Even Cheerios
Did you ever have a dream where you were peeing, and then you woke up with soaked sheets? Well, my dream was Braun imposing his will on me, choking me until I defecated myself. Waking up to shit on your pillow usually sucks, but my night terrors were another weapon in my arsenal of calorie cutting. Each bad dream helped me shed at least a pound or two.
As the match drew nearer and I grew thinner, I had this unstoppable urge to cry. Tears squirted from my eyes all the time, slowly dehydrated me of all my water weight. Finally, I saw a doctor, who spit out his shrimp kebab and had me take a bite to keep my blood sugar up. He’s a good doctor, the one ultimately responsible for getting me out of my death sentence with Braun. If you’ve learned anything in life, know that a doctor’s note will always cover your ass.
So that’s it. The Braun Strowman fight is off. Call me what you want while I slowly nurse myself back to a safe weight with a constant intake of tree bark skewers and Pedialyte. I’m totally cool with it. It’s better than spending five years in an iron lung because the entirety of my rib cage was shattered by one punch from Braun.
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