My Recent Weight Gain

It’s hard to deny the fact that you’ve gained weight when your stomach, as one of my friends put it, “looks like a watermelon, you stupid fat fuck. Get your lard ass to the gym already, you fat tub of shit.” I laugh stuff like that off because what else can you do, right?

Funny friends aside, I have no problem with my recent weight gain. My girlfriend calls me her Healthy Boy because I don’t know why the fuck she thinks this is healthy. She rubs my belly and says, “I like it! It makes you look healthy.”

“Healthy like an E. Honda super human sumo wrestler?”

“Sure, whatever.”

I mean, she encourages me to exercise--very tactfully I should add by asking if I’d like to go hiking with her. “Why? I’m already healthy,” I laugh.

I wouldn’t mind being actual healthy and not 17th century baroque healthy though. Hell, I’m not even Rubenesque, I’m just oblong. You know what else is oblong? Earth. Earth is oblong. I’m as fat as a fucking planet. All the fat cells in my body are colluding against my aesthetic. My limbs are twigs flailing against a basketball.

Anyway, I wouldn’t mind being actual healthy. It’s nice being able to walk with your own legs. Rolling isn’t a flattering form of transportation.