If Crap Had an Asshole...

my dinner would be shooting out of it. A variety of gut-busting seeds and nuts pulverized in some high speed blended then sprinkled over a burnt piece of tofu. Fuck you, genetics. I coulda had a small ass. I coulda been slender. I coulda been somebody, instead of having a big bum...I know lame "On the Waterfront" quote but I feel a little like Marlon Brando. Slim and sexy in my youth, thick and pasty in my middle age. I suppose there are worse things than tofu. I'll think about it and get back to you.

The Other White Meat

I must admit, I love pork. The kind of love that might be considered forbidden between a human and a walking, squealing thick slice of bacon. My salivary glands start pumping at the mere mention of pig. If I were on death row, my last meal would involve a skewered wild boar and a candied apple. I'd rather eat bacon than have sex most nights - especially if it's applewood smoked. But seeing that I'm now committed to saving pig lives and, instead, butchering root vegetables, I must pledge my love elsewhere. Rutabaga anyone?  

Glutenous is Next to Godlessness

Yeah so, I've been absent for seven fucking months, devouring as much villainous gluten as I could get my Pillsbury dough boy fingers on. Oh and yes, I fucking loved shoving the spongy combination of yeast, flour, and salt down my eagerly widening gullet. I didn't fucking care. It made the trip down my esophagus easier by slathering a generous dollop of butter on each brick-sized piece before I crammed it in. Seven months of unbridled food debauchery. My ass begged me stop, inflating slowly like one of those cheap swimming pool flotation devices you buy at Target.

So here I am - in October - with an ass the size of a giant's gonad.

I'll keep you posted.