This time of year, everyone is starting some new diet/fitness/behave yourself program. Not me.
I am actually the only person anyone knows who loses weight during the holiday season. My work tends to get a little busy at Christmastime, and the added activity way outweighs the added caloric intake.
So to get ahead of the upcoming holiday weight loss, I embarked on a high calorie weight gain strategy. This was the year I would bid farewell to the chicken legs (mine) and do it by EATING chicken legs (M&H broasted chicken legs, yum).
I would supplement this by enjoying a late night grilled cheese sandwich or two, which I would make using the cool dual fuel range Ricky purchased a year ago that I’d recently learned to operate.
Sidebar: I’ve never had to cook. I dated cooks.
As Ricky and I have grown older, we’ve adjusted to the fact that the thickest, most lustrous hair we will ever grow on our bodies is in our nose, ears and occasionally on our backs. The only hair growth anywhere near the proximity of where we’d want it is the surprising rogue eyebrow hair that grows one full inch over night, or the curly gray hair jutting out from the middle of our forehead.
So, it stands to reason that the after-forty body has nothing where it used to be.Â The added poundage couldn’t possibly appear where I would like it.
I’d request ten pounds evenly distributed between chest, arms, butt and legs. Heck, if I could get it only there, I’d take 20. Instead I get ten pounds dumped in my gut and jowls. That’s it.
So, now that New Year’s has passed, I’ve done my ten up, ten down and all is well.
I wonder if my employer sponsored health coverage will pay to have these stretched out jowls tightened up, since it is work related after all?
Today’s Gay Agenda: Be glad I can remain anonymous on this blog. This is probably the most inflammatory post I’ve EVER written.