I swear...I'm not pregnant!

Excuses, excuses...yes, I'm the King of Excuses. I need to lose weight, because quite frankly I'm tired of people stopping me on the street asking me when I'm due. OK...I just lied. Nobody has stopped me on the street asking that...basically because I'm never on the street (too busy working out my mouse finger for hours on end doing pointless things like "liking" pointless Facebook posts and bursting virtual bubble wrap).
First goal...stopping the late night snacks (and by "snacks" I mean practically a meal before going to bed). Hard to get to sleep on an empty stomach, but maybe just a small amount of cottage cheese or fibrous cereal will do the trick rather than Stouffer's Mac & Cheese or a Celeste Pizza or a can of Chef BoyRDee double stuffed ravioli.
Goal 2: more exercise. No excuses here. I get 2 15 minute breaks and a half hour lunch at work. I eat lunch and smoke. Should do some walking after eating lunch and while smoking (although I should stop smoking...but that's another future goal and doesn't add to the zeppelin that is known as my tummy).
Goal 3: stop with the empty calories known as whiskification™. OK...honestly...I know it contributes, but drinking a little every now and then is my vice and until society stops revering the Kardashians and those Jersey Shore assclowns...not to mention Paris Hilton, Usher and his "protege" Justin Beaver (I could get nasty, but I'll stick with the word "protege")...I can't see myself giving up the occasional shot heard 'round the world (well, at least heard round my tummy).

I thought there was some inspirational, "let's all get physically fit" brouhaha that I was going for here...but I lost my train of thought.