When we become what we're running from

I don't own a set of scales. As a guy, I'm generally not obsessed with my weight, but perhaps I should be. Lately I've been noticing that I'm getting softer around the middle. This is disturbing for someone who has always been thin. At first I was able to rationalize it by saying that I was just getting to where I should be, but now it's gone a bit past that. Not enough that my pants won't fit or anything, but enough that my brother cracked a joke about it at our family reunion last month. I deserved it. I've certainly cracked enough jokes about him in the past. The point is, I can't justify it any longer. I need to do something about it. However, I haven't been doing a very good job of that lately. I'm pretty sure that a day when I consume a package of powder donuts, some Pop Tarts, a candy bar, a bag of Cheetos, a Gatorade and an Arby's Beef 'n Cheddar, complete with large curly fries and a large chocolate shake, isn't going to help matters any.

I'm going to end up with a Kids in the Hall gut.

If you don't know what a Kids in the Hall gut looks like, well, you're in luck. Just watch the video clip below.