Normally I like to open these writings with some form of joke or a witty quip that will really grab the attention of the reader and make them chuckle like an idiot but, as you may have noticed, I didn't do that this time around because nothing about what I have just said is in any way funny. Unless you really did find it funny -- I honestly can't tell whether that happened since you're reading this in the future and I suck at telepathy. If that is the case, I have an amazing book that you should read called the dictionary -- it's a laugh a minute, depending on how quickly you read. But look at me getting all side-tracked. The reasoning behind me not opening with a knockout joke is because, simply put, this year hasn't left me with much to joke about. (I urge you as the reader to ignore all of the previous times this year that I have, in fact, joked because I wasn't really being serious about it and the crisis that we all face daily is no laughing matter.)

2009 has been a year of very real ups and downs for me so far. Of course, by "ups and downs" I pretty much mean just "ups" and by that, I'm talking about my weight and not much else. There isn't any way to really beat around the bush here: I'm fat. Overweight. Obese. Whatever you like to call it. If life is like a box of chocolates, then I am pretty sure that by now, I've eaten all of the good truffles and all I'm left with is a half-empty box of shitty dark chocolate nut clusters that I will probably wind up eating anyway because I'm still really hungry. It started out that I was able to control my appetite. You know, maybe just one burrito here or a burger and a small fries but soon that wasn't enough. I'd order a second burger and just take a few bites, because I needed that little extra to fill me up. Nowadays, I'm wolfing down an entire bucket of chicken as an appetizer and asking where the rest of the meal is. Intervention hasn't worked -- you're liable to lose a hand if you touch my stash. Hell, even children and pets are fair game if they get in the way during feeding time. What can I say, I'm allergic to being hungry.

I don't really mind the weight gain though. Sure, I can't do all of the things that I used to but that's just a part of growing up. Besides, jogging is for faggots. I'm in no hurry to get anywhere anyway -- it's the pizza guy who ought to be in a hurry to get to me. 30 minutes or it's free, bitch, and I started timing as soon as I hung up the phone. The one thing I could do without is the stares from strangers. Yes, I'm wearing a tablecloth as pants because that's the only fucking thing that will fit. What of it? You're just jealous because I can drive a motorized scooter through the shopping mall and your thin ass has to walk the whole way. You see me rollin' and you're hating. Who's the sucker now, toothpick?

Skinny people like to blame a lot of things on the obese population. Well, turnabout is fair play and we obese people have plenty of things to blame on skinny folks. Things like stairs and extra small shirts. 24 hour gyms. The fucking stairs inside the 24 hour gyms. What the hell are those there for? We don't go there to workout -- we like to hang out on the second floor because that is where the air-conditioning is. Fuck, put in an elevator or some shit. Do you want to give me a frickin' heart attack? Oh, and while you're installing new things, put in a hot dog stand and make yourself useful by getting me one. Call it part of your cardio workout.

As a newly minted fat person who has the added fortune of not being born an in-bred hick, I feel like it's my duty to help other fat people live life a little more comfortably. I plan on inventing a non-compact but very affordable car. No longer will we of large girth have to suffer the mocking and ridicule of "the skinnies" while we try and force ourselves into a Toyota Yaris because that's all that we could afford. I'm going to bring back the idea of the old "boat on wheels" cars from the 1980's but cut down on the luxury. What the hell do we care -- we're fat. It's not like we can reach the dashboard to play with any of the gadgets anyway. We're just looking for more space. Of course, in order to do this, I'm going to have to raise some serious capital so if anyone knows of any fetish website that takes pictures of big people for erotic pleasure, let me know because I am totally available (assuming that they can come to me).

Still, despite all of the positive spin above, I'd be remiss if I did not mention that all is not grand in my new world. For example, I'm not really into BBW porn, so I'm having a hard time getting my rocks off lately. Not to mention finding my dick without hours of searching for it. By then, the sexual urges have passed and I'm just a sad sack of shit sitting naked on the couch, lonely and pissing myself. I swear, it'd take a dedicated team of archaeologists to find my genitals in any reasonable length of time. As my weight continues to grow, my options for fun are constantly becoming more and more limited. I'm not allowed to ride roller coasters anymore and I had to give up my crystal meth habit. Seriously, have you ever seen a fat speed addict? There is some complex science shit behind that which makes it impossible. It's enough to just make me want to take a vacation and get away from it all. Wait, what's this? United Airlines just announced that they plan on putting into place a policy that charges fat people for two seats if they require more than one seat belt extension. This is horrible news because I already can't afford to go anywhere thanks to the tanking stock market and now, if by some random chance that I win the lottery and I actually have some money, I'll have to pay double to do it. But wait, two seats means two meals, right? I can deal with that.

While I realize that there will always be those in our society who love to poke fun at people who are different from them or who don't choose to follow the standard set by those so-called fashion magazines, hopefully the words I have written here will be enough to give you pause to think that, in the end, we're all merely human and we all have our own set of challenges to face. It's a long road but if I'm provided with enough hamburgers and ribs, I can console myself and take solace in my stretch marks because I know that I am fighting the good fight. Well, at least until I get skinny again. Then I will be right there beside you cracking fat jokes and making barn animal sounds. Hypocrisy is really what America is all about anyway.