$240 dollars worth of pudding

Well, $241.00 actually. That is the approximate dollar amount that I spent on food – this week.

I guarantee you – I ain’t got it like that. I don’t even want it like that, but between eating out at King, Donald, Bell, Kentucky, or anyone else’s kitchen over my own, I’m stuck.

Granted, I did spend about $100 on groceries. I saw a show once that suggested that people who eat a lot of fast food could benefit from buying frozen dinners. The meals are still convenient, but healthier.

That might have worked if my stomach weren’t always in Man vs. Food mode. If I see, smell, or sense anything edible and succulent, I want it in the worst way— like Rihanna and Chris Brown duet chanting birthday cake. (For the record, as a former fat kid and current fat adult I don’t ever crave cake. Contrary to what Fifty Cent would have you believe, I would rather eat macaroni and cheese.)

So, when I bought the week’s worth of frozen meals, I told myself that I would also eat vegetables at lunch and dinner to complement my entrees. However, when it was time to eat, I just ate double entrees instead. Hence, the gaping hollow inside of my freezer shelves, wallet, and waistband buttonhole.

Plus, my lovely family wanted pizza with cheese . . . that I ate, along with cheddar and sour cream chips. What a difference a day makes! Take that Essylstyns!

I don’t cry over spilt milk. I eat it melted or powdered over golden waves of potatoes and grains.

Love you like a fat kid loves dairy,




Mons pubis.

I can spot mine. Can you spot yours?


Don’t take it for granted. Well trimmed or not. Brazilianized or bright eyed and bushy-tailed, appreciate the view. There are some people who cannot enjoy the same. And I do not mean the handsome young men with whom you would like to fornicate but refuse (and rightly so), I mean those women whose bodies resemble the Venus of Willendorf more closely than they resemble Venus Williams.

You know who they are. Is it you? Go ahead. Take a peek.

Stand in front of the mirror, sans drawers. Can you see a triangle or semblance thereof? If so, congratulations. You are not  a member of the trap door tribe!

If you’ve lost yours, and you have to unhinge the flap that is your gut to see your va hoo hoo. We’ve got some work to do.

Now, I did say we. At one point all I saw was a half moon sliver like the Cheshire Cat. Those milkshakes brought all the fat cells to the yard and they spilled over the river and through the woods too.

I use the size of the triangle as a way to measure my gut’s obtrusiveness levels. When levels get low, it’s off to the gym I go.  (I know my trainer is like, stop lying! I haven’t seen you in more than a month!)

I wish that I had a better self-concept that would allow me to be more upset and ready to work out at smaller emergencies. Some women tell themselves to stop eating fried foods when their pants get tight. I tell myself sweet little lies like, “Oh, I must have washed these pants on hot and then dried them  . . . All thirteen pair. ”

By the time my gut has gone out so far out that it falls down, it’s quite late. I’m going to start looking around for some information about ways to change my mind about my body.

Actually, I am reading The Engine 2 Diet  by Rip Esselstyn, son of Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn, baby daddy and husband (it’s legit!) of Anne Esselstyn and mac daddy of vegetables everywhere. His clinical research and diet have both prevented and reversed heart disease through the power of plant-based eating.

Technically, I have started the diet. By technically I mean that I read the words “Week 1: Dairy and Processed Foods”, interpreted that to mean that during this week I should cut out dairy and processed meats and have proceeded to avoid dairy outright. Does Krispy Kreme and Ghiradelli count as processed food or dairy? Probably. But since I didn’t actually read the chapter yet, I don’t know that for sure. And what you don’t know for sure, you shouldn’t assume. So, don’t be over there assuming that you know that I shouldn’t be eating donuts and brownies unless you actually read the book. (If you have read the book, don’t ruin the ending! Don’t be that guy.)

Somebody help me.