Categories
HOW I'M DOING

Big Butt Big Gut

I carry my weight in my middle. People don’t think I’m fat, because I’m not fat all over. I was a skinny lanky thin muscled kid. Kids in the neighborhood used to call be ‘bag a bones’. My mother thought I had a tape worm – because of my big appetite. Now it seems that no matter what I eat it turns to fat – in two places: my butt and gut.

My father was skinny, my mother pleasingly plump they used to say – nothing like the big butt big gut people of today though.

Cleveland, where I’ve lived since 1994 must be the BIG BUTT BIG GUT capital of the world. There’s not much motivation to lose weight, when all around you people are gaining at record speed, and not caring that they are. They dress it up – gotta hand it to them, they do it well. Yup, big is in. Skinny is out. When I see a skinny person I think they’re sick, dying, drug and alcohol and tobacco addicted. One might think skinny people move faster than fat people. I see some sophisticated fat moves and slow poke skinny ones.

I’ve been thinking about this site for a long time. Every day as I gained all my weight back. I couldn’t possibly be hungry after my first meal, but a half hour later I’m back for a second, then a third – thinking I have to eat my three meals a day all at once. Then I’m stuffed and feeling the pain of an overstretched gut, regretting the ravenous binges, but they are oh so good.

I do know how to cook great tasting food, even my sandwiches – no matter what it is – leaves me wanting more. Not a good selling point for losing weight, that’s for sure.

I vow not to eat the rest of the day and evening, but I feel like crap. What is wrong with me? Am I being subliminally messaged over the T.V. to eat, eat, eat? I don’t turn the T.V. on any more. It doesn’t go on all day. I reserve it for evening – and stay away from the negativity of the news broadcasters spewing their white hatred all over the globe. Mind-control I figure. The social engineers, who don’t know their asses from their elbows punishing white people for being successful. Whatever happened to the loving generation from the 1970s? The haters took over. And burned the world down.

Seeing their fervor makes me think they’re possessed. It’s scary to watch. Then they stop and walk away like nothing happened. Slam bam thank you ma’am. They unload a lot of shit onto other people. I think we might be talking a different breed of animal here. Everybody’s afraid to mention it. They might get shot.

Steve and I were accosted at a restaurant by a black dude, getting too close, making up FBI stories, leaning in too far, we had to buy him a beer to get him away. He refused to put his mask up, he said he was wearing it – yeah, around his neck – just walked in off the street acted like he owned the place and started slithering up to us with his fat body. The owner came over and tried to get him to leave.

After the beer, he did it all over again, wanting money. I said I don’t carry cash any more. I don’t. Then Steve tells me not to argue, someone tried it and got shot. So yeah there’s fear in Cleveland, when black people think they can dump their shit onto others.

Wifi? Is it the wifi searing through my brain from all my wifi connected devices that’s causing interference with my hunger control center? War? Now I have to fight a war against wifi, something I need to survive – the internet? That wifi monster is operative, even when I’m not using it. If it can travel though a cinderblock wall it can travel through a flesh and blood body.

Steve is fat too. He can’t stop eating once he starts. So he puts it off, then binges and loves every minute. He walks five miles a day roving at his security job. I don’t think people believe him. He measures it on his iphone. His mother and father were both heavy set. His father once said he quit smoking and drinking and gained fifty pounds. Wifi didn’t exist back then. There were more thin than fat people though.

Hey, I explore everything. I’m not shy about exploration. Yeah, but don’t come up to me when I’m out and throw your shit at me. Black people are exempt from wearing masks in Cleveland. They might as well be, since there are no repercussions for accosting someone for money.

No mask, no distancing. They get a pass. I’m ticked off. How can people be so stupid, to say they’re wearing a mask around their neck. That’s compliance to them. Their neck doesn’t breathe and spit when they talk. A different breed of animal – black or white it doesn’t matter. A different level of stupid – black or white it doesn’t matter. This new breed of stupid crosses all gender, ethnic, race and age lines. You never know when you’re going to be hit with somebody else’s stupid – or shot.

And I’m worried about my weight? Yes, you’re damn right I am. No more fussing with other people’s ways. It’s my way from now on.

I’ll get back to that intermittent fasting challenge – write about it – finally. I had a disturbing experience that may or may not be connected. Maybe if I write about it, I’ll stop stewing about it.

See ya later alligator…






Categories
TIPS & TOOLS

Skinny vs Skinny

Skinny plant-eaters are like skinny animal-eaters. They’re not that much into food, unless they’ve been bingeing and purging, and that happens in both categories.

People into food don’t move their food around the plate conflicted over what to do with it.

The smartest approach to take when assessing your own weight is not to compare yourself to others whom you want to look like. Find your best self and take the best steps for you to achieve that look.






 

Categories
INCHES NOT POUNDS? SCALES & MIRRORS

Mirror Mirror On The Wall…

Mirror mirror on the wall are you a friend after all?

Yes my fair lady you appear to have melted a few pounds.

 

Categories
SCALES & MIRRORS

Scales And Mirrors (part 2) ©

Horrors. I had no idea. Of course I had no idea, I didn’t weigh myself. Sure my clothes were a little snug, a lot snug, but that “I’ll do it tomorrow’ mentality kept creeping in: the old procrastination trick so I can have today what I promise I won’t have tomorrow. THE LAST SUPPER – before the big diet push. Steve and I have done that ad nauseam. We have had so many last suppers that I can’t begin to count how many.