Ever seen it?
The show called, "The Biggest Loser"?
You know, they say the word, B.U.F.F.E.T (not as in Jimmy, or Warren), 'butt' ..the word, "buffet", stands for the following, of which this show has many: Big Ugly Fat Folks Eating Together.
And you probably thought that was a nmenonic device for spelling the word correctly.
Harsh, huh?
Yeah, perhaps.
Hey, I grew up skinny - with a Chicken Chest deformity.
Saw it in two Uncles; creative bastiges and heroic to me: Simeon and younger the Barry (my Mother's only two brothers).
Just waiting on the Heart Attack my mother never told me would happen. In time.
Always freaked out about everything I did; always told me to be careful, worried about my heart....just never alluded to or mentioned that IT will happen. And, so the precautionary mothering kinda helped for me.
But IT....Happened to my to two older bros.
Two normal and healthy fokkers.
Yet, I still have the pup-tent Chicken Chest, accompanied by man teats and a beer belly. Neither of which my bros have.
What an ugly way to say: "Thank GOT for DNA".
Thank GOT for Seinfeld and the manzeer.
Which they don't sell at Kohl's, danggitt.
Yessir: Moi identifies with the heavy dudes up there on the scale on TBL.
So, I'm used to it. The abuse, that is. From others; and selfish 'miner' that I 'is'.
Palpitations.
How is that, one questions: Well, of course, I have a wife and two kids.
That's me, aka, the beneficiary of leftovers and no real time to myself to exercise.
Great excuse; I'm just lazy.
I'm my own coach.
Mental quote: "Sprint to the fridge, beotch"!
The above = workout.
Hence, the beer belly.
Which I prefer to call that trophy is "Travel-Bling"....from many, and much needed, 'inexpensive stay-cations'.
So, out of that 40 some plus/year experience, as a skinny punk, then fatter fella, husband and dad.... I developed empathy and compassion.
After and during which, I gained weight.
So much so that I was up to about 215 + lbs and managed to get down to about 190 with many more LBS to 'big lose'.
Its always a fight.
The real thrilla - over vanilla wafers.
And Pringles....and singles of Stax....my fave.
That sheit will clog your arteries.
Including that main vein.
The Vena Cava......and, the Vena pointa towardza Vuh Gina.
Be very careful.
Dern soap makers turned tuber uber-extraordinaire$.
But, the real-meal ticket to more weight loss is two other complimentatry words: Friggin' Excercise.
Think and stink 'till your pink
.
For me, that's painful (literally).
So that one word, excercise, is truly is a catch 22.
If you can not exercise, because of pain, you can't lose the weight.
But you C.I.L.L. the pain, with weight gaining substances.
Liquid bread in a can!
It has been said, "Man can not live on bread alone".
This is true.
He must have at least a few more loaves (Bread(s) in a can....glass, or bottle).
And so it becomes, truly, a daily battle of mind over matter, if not a war.....and a fire fight in between.
Speaking of 'witch':
Ever tried Sriracha sauce (the Rooster)?
That's another story entirely.
Highly recommended sauce.
Twice burner; lovely.
Yet, please.....recall that ancient adage, Easy come, easy go?
Entire...complete....Bull SHEET....iimprecise - Horse Hockey.
But, here's the deal.
In re the T. V. show, "The Biggest Loser", instead of having these good humans 'doing the tread mill', and or other silly calorie burning gameativities, why don't they select a Golf Course, preferably in the AZ desert, where its hotter than hurl, and give them each - a rotary push mower - and have them.....sprint.....push.....mow..... incessantly, hours on end, all Marine-like, in order to burn off the weight?
Folks, given the current economic conditions, Golf courses are hurtin' more than these overweitghters.
All courtesy of the Bush Administration.
Evil Big Oil gluttonouss and WWI an WWII, current wars, irresponsible and certainly Hell-bound bastards of a family....but I digress.
May they continue to have a pox upon their familial house for 7 generations.
Mother Fokkers.
Back to the point.
Think about it: BUFF, out on the golf course.....with Hooters girls serving as Beer Wenches to entice the heavy straight dudes.
And banana-hammocked pool boys, 'pour' boys, serving 'whine' coolers - to entice the heavier chicks - and 'otherwise interested'. Hey I don't judge here. DNA is DNA.
While we're at it, here's another idea: Quit freaking eating!
"How"; i hear u AXE-ing? And, is that a 'werd', Alex?
Is anybody still reading- or pist off- yet?
That is th goal here, Thinker's!
Yeah, quit eating.
How......Via a medically induced coma - for 40 days.
Say WHAUUUT?
American BUF Folks love pills; how about a 40 day chill pill?
Acutally, if you project plan this, it would initially require a morning evacuation, insertion of a drip line, yada yada yada....bed, 24 hour scientific watch, documented on paper and film, etc. Nurses to excercise your limbs, Johnson/Matilda, etc. U GIT IT. We ALL have so much to learn as humans.
So...Yip, 40 days.
And: No Sweat.
Kinda llike Hey Zeus did in the desert -only he had courage.
Actually, I'd prefer the record to reflect how I really feel and that is the 'man' had balls; but I have too much respect for the dude saving my/our ashes. Plus, back in the day, balls were common.....just written about differently.
And so this proposed T.V. show takes no courage. Just a cash infusion. Which would generate cash infusion into our economy, with advertising, like always, being the catalyst.
The results of the weight-loss-coma? The awakening. Fliming would be pre, duing, and post. Then, put the newly thinned in some Teva's, banana hammock or bikini, new suit/dresses.....no excercise at all. Can you imagine? EZ Weight loss miracle. Fashion and Avertising sales. Plus the medicine takes on a new specialty. Yeah, it takes 40 days...but you slept through it and still lost weight. Here's the trophy: Man tits for the bros and no tits for the women.
Perhaps thee actual ticket to economic recovery, right there folks. If not, take a vacation at your nearest LOCAL Brewer. Mine is Sweetwater and Terrapin (Athens, GA).
I like the golf course mowing scenario better though.
Scratch and sniff T.V.
Hey, how did Phil Mickelson lose his man tits?
Maybe I need to take out a loan and purchase a membership the Atlanta Athletic Club.
Nah, I need a vacation.
the Pigman
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