Fuck, I'm fat!
Hokay, time for an intervention. Time for all of my more reasonably proportioned body parts to gather round and gawp in disgusted awe at my utter rotundity.
Holy shit … I wouldn't look out of place in a Mid-West strip mall, shopping for cheese in a spray can. Not being one for mirrors and only having a top view of the corpulent crisis going on in my midriff I had been only vaguely aware of the effects of rampant inflation … until this weekend.
Last Sunday, given the choice between Easter church service and traditional family roast dinner, I sensibly opted for neither and instead moseyed on down to the studio to make an unholy racket with my disreputable friends (or at least one disreputable friend and my equally disreputable little brother).
Phil has gone all gadget-happy and spent his groats on one of those new fangled moving picture screens (an Apple eye patch I think he called it). Anyhoo, he propped the thing up on an amp while we spent a pleasantly unproductive afternoon busking old songs that none of us could really remember and songs that none of us actually knew … pretty much par for the course.
It would appear that the piratical eye patch captured some of the shambolic mess on video. The upshot of which is that I caught sight of myself standing sideways on to the camera and screamed like a girl.
Fuck, I'm FAT!
As a friend has since put it: “Most people would simply opt for conventional gender reassignment, but you? You have to be different. I mean the man-boobs were bad enough, but how the hell did you manage to get yourself pregnant?”
I took a screen grab of my planet-shaped pregnancy and stuck it on the fridge door with a big red sign that simply states “DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!” I have another sign on the kitchen door which reads “Don’t even think about it. Turn around one-eighty and get your fat, ugly arse into the gym, lardboy!”
On an unrelated note, Nokia recently took over the company I used to use to post all my music on my blog and - to improve their service - are pulling the plug on the whole thing. So if anyone clicks on my old music tracks all they'll get is a bunch of Swedish incompetence and no noise whatsoever.
Whilst the more culturally advanced among you might consider that an improvement, I'm a sadistic bastard, so here's some of last Sunday's cacophonous crap to annoy the hell out of you and to remind me to lock myself out of the kitchen.
Knowing myself pretty well, however, I predict that dieting will be a non-starter and will be replaced by the simple expedient of never again standing sideways on to a camera.
Toodle pip.
13 comments:
But did you have a good time, sugar? ;~) xoxoxoxox
I'll forgive your remark about effing Midwest shopping malls because it is, well, true.
Did you enjoy your faffing about with music evening? It's been so long since you've posted without your mum's (and all your lady e-friends) nagging you about it, I'm just glad to see you are up and about.
I've missed you, Dive.
Great blogging come-back! The blues are definitely groooovy. Good to hear you working that guitar.
Good luck managing your pastaholism ;-) Be glad you're not addicted to deep fried Twinkies.
Hahahaha! Oh, I'm from Illinois, how you know us so well. Ms. M, you do, too! I've been in California a long time, though, so I no longer buy my cheese in a can.
Dive, your baby will be a very interesting child.
Your FRIEND said that??? What kind of friends do you have, anyway?
Pasta--I gave it up in 2009 when I had lap band surgery. I also gave up rice, bread, barley, wheat...everything but potatoes, oats and corn, which still can be problematic. I lost 30 pounds within a couple of months.
Problem with pasta and carbs is they are just as addictive as alcohol. In fact, the sugars resemble those in alcohol, so I could easily become a sugar addict (might already be) as easily as I could become an alcoholic.
Anyway, I'm still fat, even though I've lost weight. I look terrible in pics and on camera. YOU, however, are not fat. Sure, you have a belly, but that's not "fat." Bellies are very cuddly, assuming they don't hang over your manhood.
I always have a good time, Savannah.
xoxoxoxox
Speedway, I'm not sure I'm back yet. This could be a brief visit to Blogville, but I'm hoping I can stick around and think of something to write about. I've missed you, too.
Ms.M. I'll never forget that Twinkie Katie brought over for me. The thought of a deep fried version will keep me safely away from the kitchen for a while and ensure I really don't want to put anything in my mouth.
Petrea, if it's a girl I'll name her Ryoko in your honour.
Whatever it turns out to be, if I ate any cheese from a spray can it would certainly start kicking.
Katherine, it never ceases to amaze (and amuse) me how shocked Americans are by the English sense of humour. Yes, friends here mock one another mercilessly; it's part of how we bond. This particular friend is a lifelong one and gets back as good as she dishes out.
I'm too good a cook to ever successfully diet, so I'm going to do the next best thing and never again stand side-on to a camera or a mirror.
As for my manhood, I've not seen that in years (or had much use for it, truth be told), but thank you for being so kind about my pregnancy. And by the way, you look fabulous on camera.
Wooot Woot! You know me; I am a “glutton” for punishment! I “consumed” all four of your lovely “offerings”; it was nothing less than a “four-course” extravaganza. They were artfully prepared and “peppered” with just enough layers of “fat” from the bass to encourage your listening “palate” to continue to “sup”. I “gobbled” every one of them up. I “relished” them each for their “sweet” and “savory” delights. Some were a bit more “saucy” than others; some had more “meat” but all in all each being a “flavorful” experience. I only wish I had room for another “serving” of your “scrumptious” “bounty”!
Hee hee hee. Hi, Leslie. Damn, I'm hungry now! Thanks for listening; we'll be up to full strength for next month's session and hopefully someone will remember some songs we actually know. We may even video it again. though I'll be sure not to show so much flab.
I couln't help myself! I look forward to the next session!
I found out I ws using the facetime camera which is why the quality is poor.
Next time I'll turn the thing round and use the HD camera so breathe in Bro. A fat belly in glorious high definition is the ultimate incentive.
Why do you think I hide behind a drum kit?
Me too, Leslie.
"Facetime"? Is that what they call video-chatting these days? What a horrible term.
With HD you'll be able to pick up even more shine from my baldy head.
Darn good I say. You have talent Dive. I enjoyed this.
Cheers, Mark. I HAD talent, many years ago. Now I have fat. It's not a trade-off I intended but life throws these things at people. Hey ho.
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