One of the things I’ve been doing in abundance since getting laid off is eating. Ok I’m lying; I’ve pretty much mostly always done that. I love food. I love cooking it, growing it, buying it and eating it. I love the way it brings people together. Think about it…I bet a bunch of the good times you can remember in life revolve around food. Sex is even better with food. Nothing beats enjoying a savory vegetable lasagna, buttery garlic bread and creamy tiramisu at the same time you’re getting your freak on with the one you love…sure it’s messy, but good things come at a price and you can always repaint the walls. That being said…I’m seriously starting to look like a cross between Boss Hogg from the Dukes of Hazzard and Sheriff Buford T. Justice from Smokey in the Bandit.
When I look in the mirror, the old Joan Rivers joke comes to mind, “She’s got more chins than the Chinese phone book.” It is time to shed a few pounds. It isn’t because I want to be thin. I’ll never be thin. I do, however, want to physically feel better and I’d like my white suit and sheriff’s uniform to fit less snuggly around the middle. I’ll torture myself for two weeks with a carb divorce and then I’ll do this really crazy weight loss plan called…eating less and actually going to the gym. I’m never going to last on something called a diet. I’m not stupid, I know I just need to change my ways and make better choices…like not mixing my vodka with a milkshake or putting chocolate chip cookies on my cereal in the morning. I can do this. I will do this. That is all…you bunch of SOMS A BITCHES*.
*Disclaimer – I was in no way calling you, the reader, a son of a bitch. I was merely bringing the Boss Hogg/Sheriff Buford T. Justice comparison full circle to complete this blog entry. Both of the characters frequently cursed at their nemeses or is it nemesi (pluralization can be tricky) with a loud SOM BITCH. The nemeses/nemesi I’m referring to would be: in the case of Boss Hogg, Bo and Luke Duke and in the case of Sheriff Buford T. Justice, Bandit and Cledus. You, the reader, are not my nemesis, nemeses or even my nemesi. I would never call you a son of a bitch, SOM BITCH or SOMS A BITCHES. I will, however, often refer to you, male or female, as bitchez, BITCHEZ or my bitchez. When I do that it is a term of endearment. Thank you and that concludes this disclaimer.