Lard Ass

As I may have mentioned recently I’m having a few problems with my weight.

I always wondered at what point you say to yourself “God, I got fat!” and stop eating cakes and curries every day.

I fear this time is fast approaching. I was standing, uninspired, in the fruit and veg section of the supermarket earlier. Nothing really appealed. Then I noticed the cakes and pies at the other end and made a mad dash. I picked up a pie and said to myself: “Do not buy this blueberry pie. Put it down!” I bought it and had two very fat slices after dinner. Before supper.

I am getting worried. Sometimes I can feel my facial features sinking into my face as I eat. I know I have crossed a line. Gone are the days when my belly would shift back into place with the twang of a hidden muscle. Gone is the time when I could separate a take out curry into two modest portions, saving one for a rainy day. Even Frisbee sized naans no longer fill me up.

Is it this country? Marriage? The kid? My age? It’s this damn country, it must be! There are far too many delicious things to eat everywhere I look. When I arrived my trousers were a respectable 32” in the waist. An English 32” at that. I recently discovered that clothing manufacturers over here add a couple of inches of slack so we don’t feel quite as bad about ourselves as we should. This meant I gained an awful lot of poundage before I realized what was going on. I was still a 32” so how much could I have gained? The answer came when I tried on a pair of English 32” trousers and nearly tore them in half.

I find myself in quite a pickle now. I can’t exercise (it bores me too much) and I can’t cut down on food (it is too delicious). And I am still growing. This is a recipe for a blubbery disaster and I don’t like it one little bit. I don’t want to be a fat dad.

One of these days I’ll get on this, I promise, honest. For now, I’ve made a small concession; I eat salad for lunch every day. I pepper it with avocados and eggs and I dowse it with an oily vinaigrette, but as they say at British Petroleum, it’s a start.

8 thoughts on “Lard Ass

  1. Heh heh heh. I always knew this day would come. You can’t go on eating four square meals a day and not get punished. This is karma from your mockery of me during the pie years.

  2. I’m still suffering from my friends’ visit and you know what it was that really did it? It was the alcohol. Beer and wine and whisky every day.

    Face it Simon, either take my free passes and go running at the gym once a week (and remain chubby) or they’ll be removing you from your apartment via the window in a few years because you couldn’t fit down the stairs.

    it’s either that or give up the beer!

  3. Am I believing what I am hearing? Give up beer? Why don’t I just give up on life?

    For your information Mr. Berger, I have cut down to a fairly respectable 2 beerfests a week. Both involving watery Amstel Lights. Any more cutting down in that department and I fear I’d be trading blubber for sanity.

    And Jack (AKA Fisher), those ‘pie years’ of yours were a blight on every eyeball in Greater Manchester, I’ve a while to go before I sink that low!

  4. Don’t blame America. Blame marriage. There is an automatic 10 pound wait gain in the first couple years of marriage, especially in men. It is also age. Until you make some lifestyle changes your metabolism will slow to a crawl. You will have less and less energy and your brain activity will diminish. By the time you start wearing a 33 waist, you will never see 32 again.

    I know I sound like a shrewish MRS. That’s what I am.

Comments are closed.