I'm fat, I'm fat, really really fat

Roommate's Son: Do you have a six pack Tortellini?

Tortellini: No.

Roommate's Son: Do you Togers?

Togers: No.

Tortellini: Dad has a six fat.

Togers: He's got a six pack . . . of double chins.

And the heart beats in its cage

Friend: You still at the office?

Me: Yeah. I probably will be until around 7 tonight. Unless I decide to go to the gym. I probably should do the latter. Work off this flab that seems to want to accumulate on various parts of my body.

Friend: The old man is starting to catch up huh?

Me: Catch up? I think he's taken over. Completely.

Friend: Welcome to the old man club my brotha!!!

Me: I don't want to be in the old man club. That means I'll have to start hanging out in locker rooms and talking to people while I'm naked*. Isn't that what all old men do?







*This idea fresh in my mind after reading 2 Dollar Productions the other day.

All the kids are staying fat

When you're getting dressed in your bedroom, and your car in the garage starts honking because the panic button on the keychain got pressed accidentally when you bent over to tie your shoes, it might be time to start working out.

If that happens repeatedly, it's time to accept the fact that you are fat and buy some looser fitting jeans.

I need to buy some looser fitting jeans.

Wish I was much more masculine maybe then I could learn to swim

Girl: You should come swimming with me. It will help you lose that belly.

Me: I'd be too embarrassed to swim in that pool because everyone there knows what they're doing, and I don't, so my form is really bad.

Girl: Why? Do you swim with your head out of the water?

Me: No. Well, I guess I do sometimes when I breathe.

Girl: You're supposed to barely lift your head to the side, like this. [Gives demonstration]

Me: I know that, but don't always do it.

Girl: Well, I work with kids, so if you come with me I can help you with your form.

Guy (chiming in): And my wife works with retards, so between the two of them, they should have you pretty much covered.

Hey fat girl, come here, are you ticklish?

On a somewhat less disgusting note than my last post, I thought I'd get back to my recent weight gain issues.

When I went to see the doctor about my back, the nurse weighed me. She then plugged my height and weight into a computer program that calculated my BMI. For the first time in my life I am officially "Slightly Overweight" at 6' 4" and 210 lbs.

Maybe I shouldn't have had that second package of cookie dough.

Without the pretty pink ribbon, you'd end up just like me

The thing about hanging out around my ex-wife's house is that I have a lot of time to kill. I could sit down and write, but instead I find myself doing things that I occasionally think about but never actually do. For example, my brother called me to find out how my daughter was doing, and during our conversation, mentioned that he'd gained back some of the weight he'd lost over the past few months. It got me wondering how much I weighed. You see, I don't own a set of scales, so the only time I ever weigh myself is if I'm at the doctor or if I'm at my parents' house. Well, I haven't been to either place since about July, and probably haven't weighed myself since before then even, so I rummaged around until I found my ex's scales.

I've gained thirteen pounds since I last weighed myself.

I'm going to have to go start in on that second package of cookie dough while I ponder how this could have happened.