When you're a world-famous internet celebrity like I am, it's easy to get caught up in the day-to-day hustle and bustle of being just plain awesome and sometimes it takes an event like the dawning of a new year for people like me to stand up and take notice of what is wrong with their life. Also, I find it a great time to buy a new calendar but that's probably just me being quirky. You see, while I was struggling to get out of bed this morning, pushing aside the wrappers of the eight cheeseburgers I ate before I went to sleep, I was struck by the revelation that I might be fat or, in the very least, somewhat out of shape. A laborious walk to the scale ten feet away confirmed my worst fears.
I'm officially fat.
Now, this little explosion of knowledge may not come as much of a surprise to people who know me and see me on a regular basis but I have to be honest, it shocked the hell out of me. The truth is, I don't look down very often so all of this just kind of came out of left field. (I guess I don't look left very often either.) I mean, I guess there were clues. The pizza delivery guy shows up at my house without me calling, just to see if I'm hungry. I figured he was being nice. Oh, and all those people who were calling me fat? Well, I deluded myself into thinking that 1990's hip-hop speak was making a come back. Great, now I am fat and stupid. Or is that phat and dope? Shit, I don't know anymore.
To be fair to myself, I guess the silver lining in all of this is that I'm not *that* fat, which I suppose is true. Things could always be worse. I mean, I'm not yet at the point where I am loading my massive girth into my Rascal XL to scooter my way to the buffet for a "small" lunch but I am clearly a shadow of my former self. And by that, I mean that I could fit at least three of my former selves into my current shadow. My waistline makes me look constantly pregnant and my once-glorious man pecs are now nothing more than shriveled man boobs. It looks like someone nailed two large pancakes to my chest and called it a day. (And I'm sure if you were brave enough to look carefully, you could probably find two pancakes buried in there somewhere. I lost them back in June and just never had the motivation to go after them.)
I apologize if this comes off as whining so far. You'll have to excuse me because I'm still reeling from this information overload. It's not that I am mad about being fat. I'm no scientist but I'm fairly sure that it was my own doing. I don't think I went to bed last night skinny. (Shit, I woke up with a case of the fats today!) The problem is that I'm not very good at being fat. Hopefully it's just a lack of practice. I mean, some people can pull off the big-boned look quite well but not me. I don't gracefully get fat but instead I just get huge chunks of fat stuck awkwardly to my body in all the wrong places which is fantastic. Oh, not only are you a horrible person but your fat is ugly also. Please stop standing in my line of sight.
I suppose the case could be made that I am just half-assing this whole fat thing, which is why I am no good at it. The troubling thing about being fat is that there will always be many people far more dedicated to the craft of weight gain than you are and these people probably have a lot more free time than you do. This means that you'll never be #1 and that is kind of depressing. If you're going to do something horrible like get obese, about the only thing that you really have going for you is that perhaps it is something that you're really good at, but no matter how hard you try, you'll never get to the top spot. Oh, and diabetes. The good thing is, you can always just eat whatever shitty food you want to make yourself feel better so I guess it's pretty much win-win.
They say that the first step to recovery is acceptance, something which I didn't actually bother to look up before quoting it here, so I suppose this update could be framed as some kind of therapeutic realization of my situation. I mean, aside from the obvious health and mobility issues, maybe being fat isn't all that bad. 65% of America can't be wrong, can it? I am sure that there are many brilliant fat people who have done wonderful things for our society, such as inventing the escalator and that thing that helps you wipe your butt. Or pretty much any menu item Taco Bell has advertised in the last four years. I won't be one of those brilliant people but that doesn't mean I can't lump myself in with all the rest. Fat people are my people now and I can finally get some un-ironic use out of my "Large & In Charge" t-shirt.
Now that I have come to terms with my "larger than self" self, I need to figure out how I'm going to move forward with life. (Slowly, and with the help of a motorized personal scooter, probably.) For example, I'm used to living on skinny people finances, so I am going to need to make some adjustments there. Sure, I save money by canceling that pesky gym membership but the three dinners I eat each night are starting to add up, so I need to find a way to profit off my current state of health. Selling glossy nudes of myself some BBW photo site seems the obvious route but I don't consider myself either big or beautiful, so maybe that's not the fastest road to riches. Besides, I'm lazy and that takes work. I'm pretty sure even other fat people wouldn't want to see me nude. Eating contest? I hate hot dogs. Biggest Loser contestant? Not in a million years. I can only imagine how that interview would go. "Hi, my name is Randy and I hate working out. My hobbies include finding clothes that still fit me and sitting down to pee." Instant superstar.
If lying on the internet for as long as I have has taught me anything, it's that you should stick to what you know and if I know anything, it's how to transform your body into something that was once admirable into a huge, saggy pile of shit in just over a year. Which is why I'm going to start hosting a weekly "Let Yourself Go" clinic at my house. Attendance fees are reasonable and you'll be on your way to new pants and a heart attack before you know it. Refreshments to be served will include beer, whole milk, and gravy. However, it is a BYOB (bring your own butter) party so make sure that you plan accordingly. With your support (and money), together we can make 2011 the heaviest year yet. Hope to see you there!
I'm officially fat.
Now, this little explosion of knowledge may not come as much of a surprise to people who know me and see me on a regular basis but I have to be honest, it shocked the hell out of me. The truth is, I don't look down very often so all of this just kind of came out of left field. (I guess I don't look left very often either.) I mean, I guess there were clues. The pizza delivery guy shows up at my house without me calling, just to see if I'm hungry. I figured he was being nice. Oh, and all those people who were calling me fat? Well, I deluded myself into thinking that 1990's hip-hop speak was making a come back. Great, now I am fat and stupid. Or is that phat and dope? Shit, I don't know anymore.
To be fair to myself, I guess the silver lining in all of this is that I'm not *that* fat, which I suppose is true. Things could always be worse. I mean, I'm not yet at the point where I am loading my massive girth into my Rascal XL to scooter my way to the buffet for a "small" lunch but I am clearly a shadow of my former self. And by that, I mean that I could fit at least three of my former selves into my current shadow. My waistline makes me look constantly pregnant and my once-glorious man pecs are now nothing more than shriveled man boobs. It looks like someone nailed two large pancakes to my chest and called it a day. (And I'm sure if you were brave enough to look carefully, you could probably find two pancakes buried in there somewhere. I lost them back in June and just never had the motivation to go after them.)
I apologize if this comes off as whining so far. You'll have to excuse me because I'm still reeling from this information overload. It's not that I am mad about being fat. I'm no scientist but I'm fairly sure that it was my own doing. I don't think I went to bed last night skinny. (Shit, I woke up with a case of the fats today!) The problem is that I'm not very good at being fat. Hopefully it's just a lack of practice. I mean, some people can pull off the big-boned look quite well but not me. I don't gracefully get fat but instead I just get huge chunks of fat stuck awkwardly to my body in all the wrong places which is fantastic. Oh, not only are you a horrible person but your fat is ugly also. Please stop standing in my line of sight.
I suppose the case could be made that I am just half-assing this whole fat thing, which is why I am no good at it. The troubling thing about being fat is that there will always be many people far more dedicated to the craft of weight gain than you are and these people probably have a lot more free time than you do. This means that you'll never be #1 and that is kind of depressing. If you're going to do something horrible like get obese, about the only thing that you really have going for you is that perhaps it is something that you're really good at, but no matter how hard you try, you'll never get to the top spot. Oh, and diabetes. The good thing is, you can always just eat whatever shitty food you want to make yourself feel better so I guess it's pretty much win-win.
They say that the first step to recovery is acceptance, something which I didn't actually bother to look up before quoting it here, so I suppose this update could be framed as some kind of therapeutic realization of my situation. I mean, aside from the obvious health and mobility issues, maybe being fat isn't all that bad. 65% of America can't be wrong, can it? I am sure that there are many brilliant fat people who have done wonderful things for our society, such as inventing the escalator and that thing that helps you wipe your butt. Or pretty much any menu item Taco Bell has advertised in the last four years. I won't be one of those brilliant people but that doesn't mean I can't lump myself in with all the rest. Fat people are my people now and I can finally get some un-ironic use out of my "Large & In Charge" t-shirt.
Now that I have come to terms with my "larger than self" self, I need to figure out how I'm going to move forward with life. (Slowly, and with the help of a motorized personal scooter, probably.) For example, I'm used to living on skinny people finances, so I am going to need to make some adjustments there. Sure, I save money by canceling that pesky gym membership but the three dinners I eat each night are starting to add up, so I need to find a way to profit off my current state of health. Selling glossy nudes of myself some BBW photo site seems the obvious route but I don't consider myself either big or beautiful, so maybe that's not the fastest road to riches. Besides, I'm lazy and that takes work. I'm pretty sure even other fat people wouldn't want to see me nude. Eating contest? I hate hot dogs. Biggest Loser contestant? Not in a million years. I can only imagine how that interview would go. "Hi, my name is Randy and I hate working out. My hobbies include finding clothes that still fit me and sitting down to pee." Instant superstar.
If lying on the internet for as long as I have has taught me anything, it's that you should stick to what you know and if I know anything, it's how to transform your body into something that was once admirable into a huge, saggy pile of shit in just over a year. Which is why I'm going to start hosting a weekly "Let Yourself Go" clinic at my house. Attendance fees are reasonable and you'll be on your way to new pants and a heart attack before you know it. Refreshments to be served will include beer, whole milk, and gravy. However, it is a BYOB (bring your own butter) party so make sure that you plan accordingly. With your support (and money), together we can make 2011 the heaviest year yet. Hope to see you there!
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