Weight Watchers

A lot of people seem to be on the South Beach Diet of late. I've even been asked to be a SB diet partner, but the other person was kind of drunk. Also, I hadn't necessarily mentioned that I wanted to lose weight, so the proposition could have been seen as insulting.

That's not to say I don't want to lose weight. I do. I just don't want to eat well or exercise. I'm trying the power of positive thought. Once in while you read about somebody curing their cancer by thinking "leave now, tumor!" I've been thinking "be gone, fat!" It doesn't seem to be working, it's still huddled around my middle.

Which is, I guess, a fairly good place for fat to be. I don't have a round face and my ankles don't spill out over my shoes. For the most part, my fat is kept out of my head by gravity, and out of my legs by the fact that my boxer shorts are too small. This makes for a nice, hidable, centralized fat - a readily stashable love handles, boobs, and gut.

"Move it along, fat! You are not wanted around these parts."