I had a realization forced upon me today. I’m getting fat. Nonsense, you say. How is that even possible? You’ve always been so slim and fit.
Well, to be quite honest, I don’t like your tone. Nobody likes sarcastic remarks. You can just keep your snotty comments to yourself, thank you very much.
So this morning, I went to a yoga class for the first time in an effort to get some use out of the $50 a month I’m spending on my gym membership. (This is the third time I’ve gone to the gym since I got the membership in May, thus averaging in a per-visit cost of $100). Also, I went in an apparently vain attempt to begin my process of slimming down just in time to gorge myself sick for Thanksgiving/Christmas/Ramadan/Hanukah/Kwanza/Tet/New Years Holiday Corridor. I didn’t hate it, which, as a person who considers typing 50 words a minute to be strenuous exercise, is a big thing for me. I even almost felt refreshed. I came home, ate a healthy breakfast of Fiber One cereal (they’ve stopped showing the annoying commercials, so the boycott has ended). I took a quick nap, and then went to go take a shower, before which I decided to, um, see a man about a horse, as they say. (That means "poop.")
As I dropped trou, and sat down, I heard a crunching sound, and a sharp pinch on my Rush Limbaugh-sized ass.
That’s right folks. I sat on the toilet and snapped the toilet seat in half. And it wasn’t one of those flimsy little plastic seats that bends if you look at it cross-eyed. This one was made out of wood. (Well, fiberboard, to be exact.) And my bulky backside broke it with its bare butt-hands. (Man, that is some awkward alliteration.) I can see the headline now: Bulky Behind Breaks Bathroom.
So, I called the office, explained to them that I was going to need to get the toilet seat repaired because I’m a lardo, then I consoled myself by eating 10 Oreos in quick succession.
The yoga is really going to pay off. I can tell.