Its just possible I may have gotten too big for my britches, quite literally. I now realize I should have taken my wife’s advice, and contacted “Weight Watchers” sooner so that they could have sent out their spies to watch me gain weight, although I don’t know what difference that would have made?
You would think that they would get paid to do more than just watch a person gain weight. But then who am I to judge? Just your inadvertent executioner.
As I said at confession today—to hobo Bob while seated on the lower end of a heavily inclined park bench—I’m guilty of consuming mass quantities of food.
Having ballooned into the absolute HEAVY-WEIGHTED champion of the world I’m feeling guilty—and in so doing am also now responsible for the earths axes tilting off kilter, thus sending earth, and all her inhabitants, hurdling towards the sun.
I would just like to say at this time that I am sorry that I never went on “The Biggest Loser” to drop the spare tire. I regret becoming overweight (an understatement) and having accumulated tons while eating at the ‘all you can eat buffet’ and would just like to apologize for my selfish eating habits, which will apparently be the death of us.
It was never my intention that we should all meet a fiery end like this (although I was thrilled at the prospect of some school bullies getting there’s) by colliding with the sun. But I just couldn’t resist that last slice of chocolate cake that no one else wanted, particularly after I ate it.
In my defense, I couldn’t help myself. I had already done that with the entire box of See’s Candies.
It all started last Thanksgiving.
The turkey (which was the beginning of the end for us all, again I’m sorry) was largely consumed by yours truly. How was I to know the leftovers were meant for the whole family?
But is it my fault that my family suffers from a rare malady called Tryptophan causing them to drift off to sleep prematurely—leaving me all alone in a foul mood for turkey.
And then there was that hot dog eating challenge that I was dared into. No one thought any human-being could possibly consume that many hot dogs and survive. Yet, here I am… well that is until SUNday, when I’m told we’ll all burn up. At least that’s what NASA says.
The Christmas goose was better than I thought it would be. Second helpings led to thirds, fourths, and ultimate consumption of the entire bird. The open-mouth expression on everyone’s face said all I needed to know about their still empty plates, and my weight problem.
Ham for Easter? I can’t believe I ate the whole thing.
And now judgement day has arrived for all of us. My guess is this is some kind of “Farmageddon” that we (I mean, I) can’t eat our way out of. So I’m going to finish POUNDING out this (the very last post) before my last helping of pound cake. Oh the irony!
Guess this will be the last supper.