Seriously, we are having a little battle of the bulge issue again in our little corner of Buttfuck, Ohio. SB is getting so fat, the buttons on my shirts are starting to pull and gap. It's embarrassing. Motherfucker! I LOVE to eat though. I can't help it. And technically these are my FAT ELVIS years. I'm middle-aged, motherfuckers. A motherfucker's metabolism tanks in middle age.I must admit, I have this fantasy of being SO RICH that I could hire Elvis's old cook, Mamie, to make my ass fried peanut butter and nana sandwiches and ANYTHING ELSE MY HEART DESIRES. I would also like my own personal physician to write me any prescriptions I desire on a whim. Fuck man, who wouldn't? Yes, you would. Just admit that shit right now.
So far this morning, I've had a homemade smores bar, some Cool Ranch Doritos, and some full-fat cottage cheese. I just can't understand why my blouse buttons are gapping. If any of you smart motherfuckers out there can help, please feel free to leave comments. Only helpful comments allowed. Don't be mean motherfuckers! SB is a sensitive soul. Smart asses are always ultra-sensitive on the inside.
12 comments:
I want to be your personal chef! We can loll around on the couch until you order me to make you a fried nanner sammich and I will do it and even stick little coctail swords in it so you can pretend to be a tiny pirate.
May,
You're hired!
Love,
SB
Don't forget that bacon on those sandwiches. It's the bacon that makes them so good.
I was saying just the other night that if I was dumb rich, I would have someone on staff who could be alerted any hour of day or night to set up a salad bar for me and my guests. Got the munchies? Salad bar! And I don't mean healthy shit, I mean olives and tuna and a couple kinds of pudding at the end.
You southerners are always slapping bacon on everything. One of the many reasons I consider the south MAH PEOPLE.
DTG,
When you get rich (not if), I'm coming to stay for awhile. You can pay me to be Court Jester. Actually, you can just pay me in food.
Shitloads of love,
SB
Shit, that's my plan. I told my friends that I most expect to make it big that I will always be willing to be their Kato Kaelin.
I adore Mr. Kaelin. He is one of my idols, along with Joe Odom, the original house crasher.
You have my sympathies. As a fellow middle-aged fat-arse who doesn't seem able to remove the excess flab, may I share my recent revelation: I don't give a fuck anymore; I can always buy a kaftan.
Alec,
I'm with ya my Scottish brothah. Fuck it. I'll get a damn moomoo or a tent. Why exercise? Just buy bigger clothes, and people will think you've lost weight.
Haggis,
SB
My question: what is she pulling down--a second pair of underwear? It must be the camera angle--or a wide angle lens.
Syd,
I wondered about that shit, too. Don't know. It shall remain a mystery, my friend. I don't think I would want to investigate closer. How bout you?
Love,
SB
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