Sick and Tired!
I got out of bed this morning feeling somewhat rested. I haven’t been sleeping well as of late and I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out why. So, I’ve come to a conclusion of sorts. It’s the same fucking conclusion I come to every once in a while. The same lame ass epiphany, one simple foundation shaking truth about my life. I’m fat! This leads to many other facts… let’s list them shall we…
I’m Fat, so:
- I’m miserable
- my clothes don’t fit
- I’m uncomfortable in my own skin
- I can’t see my dick past my stomach anymore (this is extremely depressing since it’s small to begin with)
- I have trouble breathing
- walking makes my back hurt
- I have a hard time wiping my own ass (this is equally depressing)
- I’m very unattractive
- my stomach jiggles when I walk
- I couldn’t run to save my life
- my chins are multiplying like fucking rabbits
- I have more rolls than a fucking bakery
- I’m the only one that can do something about it
So, all these little bullet points I’ve mentioned above really start putting a damper on my mood. I can’t eat what I want, when I want anymore. That really pisses me off! I love greasy, no good for you, shitty, salty foods and I love beer! Fuck me! All the stuff I love will kill me if I keep eating and drinking like a king during the medieval times.
Pass me a turkey and a keg of beer! What the fuck!
Seriously, I used to be a good looking dude, way back when. You know, one of the pretty young people I see strutting their shit the way I used to. I watch them and think to myself two things, one, “I wish I could go back in time and take full advantage of that body I used to have, with the knowledge I have now and the energy I had then, I would be extremely dangerous!”, and two, “I should fucking kill you where you stand for even looking young, thin and full of energy!” Son-of-a-bitch!
Sex is a work out now. Huffing and puffing after sex used to be a sign of a real good fucking romp in the hay, a top notch performance… trapeze type shit. Now, it means I can’t breath and I’m gonna be sore for a fucking week for three whole lousy minutes of fat guy sex! My wife must be thrilled! Sorry honey. If you need a young buck to please you and take his time doing it, I understand!
I’m beginning to get that fucking fat guy gait to my walk. You know how it looks… I have to lean back a bit to help my lower back support the heavy load in front. It’s like I’ve put one too many shingles on my manhood shelter. Too much padding on the six pack protector! What the fuck, there’s no six pack there… it’s a fucking keg with all the implements including the CO2 bottle, tap and cooler! Good God I’m fucking huge! Fuck you Fuccillo, I’m fucking HUGE!
I’m seriously unattractive. I’m happily married and all that… I love my wife, there is no question and I wouldn’t step outside of that commitment ever… having said that, it’s still nice to be looked at that way… you know what I’m talking about, walking around feeling the eyes undressing you as you go… you know, almost hearing them moan and groan whispering to themselves “I’d love to have a go at that!” Remember those days? I do and I miss them. Having that kind of self confidence is greater than gold! I don’t have that anymore. It’s part of what makes me unattractive… that’s right asshole, it’s not just the fat that can drag you down, it’s how you feel about carrying it too.
Oh well, that’s enough bitching for now. I don’t want to get into my rants about how morons drive, how fucking inconsiderate people have become or how I want to hear a certain type of music on Pandora and it plays something completely different! Fuck me!
Cheers!

