Things Only a Really Fat Guy Would Understand, Part 27

When you have to Google the word "exercise" to make sure you're spelling it right. You're not.

Things Only a Really Fat Guy Would Understand, Part 26

Your 3-year-old tells you that "if you exercise, your tummy wouldn't be too big."

Things Only a Really Fat Guy Would Understand, Part 25

When you thought you'd been maintaining your weight for the last 3 years (despite the fact that your waist size has been steadily going up) only to go to the doctor's office and hear what you weighed from 3 years ago.

Things Only a Really Fat Guy Would Understand, Part 24

Unbuttoning your pants at your work desk and hoping no one will notice.

End.

Things Only a Really Fat Guy Would Understand, Part 23

When you are sitting at your desk and your pants are cutting off the circulation to your legs.

End.

67

So here it is. My 67th post of the year. I told myself I would beat my personal record from 2012.

Here's the thing.

I think the reason that my number is so high this year is that I was writing shorter things. Poetry, flash fiction, one-liners, rambling personal anecdotes like this...

There are 63 days left for 2014, and I haven't actually been writing as much as I would like. I feel like I'm losing any edge I ever had.

So in the next 63 days I'm going to write 3 short stories that make me happy. After all, if I don't enjoy reading my writing, who will?

This will help me feel like I actually accomplished something with my craft this year, rather than just filling my blog with fliegerabwehrkanone.

Stay tuned...

I'm Sure It's Just Because They Don't Make Jeans Like They Used To But This Is Getting Old

The denim stretches, then gives

A new tear expands down my ass

Forced to give up under the stress of my fat

The threads of my jeans are broken

My daughter looks on

A fog of shame clouds my vision

That's the third pair this year

End.

Bending Bones

My body is a pussy

I never listen when it complains

I just buy bigger pants

Pop a dozen pills

And try to get out more

My daughter says I'm fat

The scales all agree

I want there to be a reason

Not to blame myself

So I can keep eating out

I want to be in shape

I just love butter so much more

I just muscle up the zipper

Take my omeprazole

And tell myself I'm sexy

My bones are bending

I can feel the weight grow

If I lost the fat

My shriveled skin would hang

An empty bag of flab

I tell myself it's fine

It's not the way I eat

That keeps my waist expanding

And when I get sad

I stuff my face with calories

End.

Peoples Choice for President

Hey Internet, who do we want for president next? There are a lot of us… we should be able to pick together, right? #PeoplesChoiceforPresident

Now on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PeoplesChoiceforPresident

Iambic Pentameter

Iambic pentameter
Bliambic blamtameter
Viambic vamtameter
Marambic mumblemameter
Fliflamflic flamflameter
Gluggurgle gurgurgelter
Piambic iamtameter
Iambic pentameter

End.

4 Little Letters

Twice this week, I've been approached about my use of expletives on Facebook and Twitter. Why have I occasionally dropped an F-bomb here or there?

I cuss for a lot of reasons. The short answer is this:

I've spent a lot of time thinking, reading, and praying about my bad behaviors. I've reached the conclusion that at this point in my life, I'm going to focus on the truly important things, like loving people.

Maybe when I've mastered that I can work on the tiny ones like cussing and eating too many cookies.

Baby steps.

Life is too short to waste energy worrying about the stupid things when our whole world is crying out to be loved.

If you really want the long story, let me know. I can take some time in the coming weeks and pull together a tell-all blog post about it.

Always remember I love you,
Gabriel

End.