Happy Fat Tuesday

Happy Fat Tuesday everybody! And I'm not talking about fat tuesday like in you get to celebrate just cuz you weigh 400 pounds.(that day is actually in June) Which leads me to another question...how can people possibly let themselves get that fat? I'm not talking about the folks that need to lose a few. We all carry around a bit too much of a good thing. I'm specifically talking about the lard-asses that have to use the electric cart at the Wal-Mart to get around. You know, the ones who's shocks wear out on the drivers side twice as fast as the passenger side. The ones who can only carry 1/2 a ton in a 1 ton truck. Back boobs. Need I say more?

I have a hint for them...CLOSE THE CAKE-HOLE! Jeez, don't be tellin me how you've got some kind of chemical imbalance while you're talking around the Twinkie in your mouth. Or how you "diet and diet, you just can't seem to get rid of the weight", while you're eating a salad with 4 pounds of croutons and a quart of Ranch dressing on it. Might as well eat a Big-Mac and a hunk of chocolate cake!

I think that's probably the worst. I mean, if you weigh the equivalent of a troop of Chinese acrobats, and you realize it and don't much give a crap, I can take it. If you weigh that much, but you still look in the mirror and make yourself drool, well, that's a different story all-together.

Have you ever watched tv really late, late at night? There's absolutely nothing on, so you start chanel surfing and somewhere on one of the 867 stations is always the heartwrenching story of Paul, the 600 pound former lifeguard from Memphis. He says he has some type of rare disease that makes it impossible for his body to break down fat. He says that he never intended to get fat, and he's trying desperately to lose some weight, because he's "just not healthy". He cries. He says he just needs people to understand it's not his fault he's fat. He says this while sitting in front of a table with 11 McDonalds bags and a carton of Blue Bell on it.

I like to drink beer. I like to eat crappy food. I know that these 2 things make me fat. I also know that if I don't go to the gym in the mornings, I'm going to wake up one day and look like fat Elvis. (without the hair) I choose to go to the gym so I can keep doing what I like to do. If I don't go to the gym and I gain weight, I don't say I have a chemical imbalance. I don't blame it on some repressed feeling of inadequacy from my childhood time in Bolivia. I don't blame it on my sister. (you know who you are, remember the dog biscuit?) I blame it on the fact that I, 1) like to drink beer and 2) like to eat crappy food.

Oh yeah, Happy Fat Tuesday. When you're supposed to gorge yourself in preparation for the Lenten season! I'm not Catholic, or Methodist, or any other religion that practices Lent, (I practice lint. I ran out of dryer sheets) but I'm gonna celebrate tonight anyway!

Thank you. Thank you very much!