Fatty on Death Row

I can't think of a more appropriate place to keep decent food from an otherwise decent person. House arrest is far too liberal for the likes of me. Oh I wore the arm band but that didn't keep me from lying about what went down the hatch. Who pays $12.95 a month to lie to themselves.... nice to meet you! I'm convinced anything short of all out incarceration will result in a lifetime membership to Lane Bryant. I'm am spinning out of control...well spinning may not be the appropriate term at my size....wobbling perhaps. There's like 4 days til summer and I am still at my hibernation weight. Wake up fatty and smell the heat! Even if they make bathing suits in a 17X, I can't imagine anyone except the NIFA mixer freaks want to see that! (National Institute for Fat Awareness) How did I let myself get to this point? Well....if I knew that... I most likely wouldn't be at this point now would I?! I liken it to hair growth. When you are letting your hair grow out it seems to take forever. You look in the mirror each day and wonder if you have some mutated gene that keeps your hair from growing past your ears. You look and look... still nothing. And then one day you see a picture of yourself from 6 months ago and realize your hair is in fact growing! It works the same for fat....except my friends have been trained NOT to do 2 things....EVER....take pictures of my ass AND show them to me. I realize time is not on my side and much like my hair...whilst I don't see it happening...I am confident growth is imminent. With that, I called in the big guns.

I decided I needed a Warden of sorts....a gate keeper....a militant friend who wouldn't listen to my bullshit. Someone who would throw me in solitary confinement after hearing me bitch "my husband made me do it." Actually that might work. Scratch and save for future use...after listening to me complain about stress, the weather and any other reason I could come up with to land my ass at Taco Bell. Ughhum....I must point out that today is Cinco de Mayo. Whilst I am not Mexican, I plan to celebrate their holiday much like they celebrate the 4th of July and the Jews celebrate Christmas. I aint mad at ya....just pass me a cerveza and don't double dip in the queso and we are all good. So "New Me Monday" will actually be "New Me Thursday" this week as I have learned the Mexicans favor lard. I really need to defect. Wouldn't that be a switch....an American running south of the border...and not bcs I killed my husband...yet! I fear I would be stopped dead in my tracks bcs that's how the system works....against me...always. Anywho, back to the Warden. Whilst Susan lives exactly 5 hours from me, she has a talent for making me see I am an idiot without getting herself in trouble in the process. I'm not sure if it's the tone of her voice or the fact that the things I do are so blatantly fucked up that she's not in fact dead to me by now. She is very much alive....and in charge!

In true SIF form, I called her to talk about my psychotic behavior....on my way to a binge. That's the thing about a SIF...we think we can get away with anything! I live exactly 6 miles from Hamburger Alley. That would allow for 5 minutes of chatting about how I needed saving and 1 minute of, "Ooops I have a call coming in let me call you back," so that I could swing through the drive-thru unbeknowst to her. Then...6 miles back to the womb and, "Oh...damn another call. Let me call you back." 5 minutes to inhale and then resume fixing me. Who does this? For someone without a college degree I really should look in to the strategic development of something other than my ass! It's just sick! Sooo....I pulled into Arby's and cut the phone off just in time....hearing "Welcome to Arby's may I take your order" wouldn't have gone over really well. Had it ended there, I might have even let myself slide for slightly sane. But no. MacDonald's (that's what the drive-thru lady says) is about 2 blocks away and that's where I get my fries...oh and Coke...they have the best Coke. After ordering my usual large fry medium Coke, I felt guilt ridden. I called the Warden back to tell her what I was up to. I think she was extra bitter as she was forcing herself to eat fat free pudding and whipped cream while I was whoring myself across town! Sorry!

While she was very understanding of my "issues" she wasn't having any of my excuses. She did let me get off the phone for consumption. I fear the sound of hearing me slop down fries and cheddar laden roast beef would have been a bit much for anyone! I told her I'd call her back. When I didn't she text me...no doubt thinking I'd gone back for round 2. I was in the shower. I felt like a dirty whore who had just cheated on her husband with Osoma Bin Laden. At least if that had really happened we'd know where he was and could cut his balls off. You think with as many wives as he has one of them would have done that by now....anyway. I was dirty. I finally did call her back. She agreed to be my keeper. I honestly think she has NO idea what she's getting herself into. I need to be on Death Row...locked up...no contact with anyone...anything...throw away the key...my only food choices....raw veggies and sodium free chicken broth. Let's face it...I can't afford those fancy weight loss centers and I've paid enough in taxes to afford jail. I agreed to strap on the arm band and allow her full access. I haven't heard from her in a few days....I fear she may have been traumatized after seeing what I really weigh. Great...she most likely fell off her chair, sustained a massive head injury and now her death would be on my hands. Blunt force trauma to the head...Dr. Henry Lee would be proud. Worse yet...she would be a vegetable...the things she told me to eat more of and I didn't. I will eat them from now on in memory of my friend, the Warden who was only trying to save me from my fat.

Actually, we did speak on Monday. I believe the conversation went something like this, ME: "I have no desire to eat healthy." HER: "One meal at a time...eat more veggies." ME: "Can I start on New me Tuesday?" HER: "Oh I have something funny to tell you. I went shopping for new appliances and much like a SIF I was overly concerned with the size of my refrigerator. I wanted to make sure it would hold all my food." ME: "Are you there God, it's me Fatty." Whilst I can relate to the fear of an under-sized fridge, this was akin to the Warden telling me he did time for murder and has since been reformed. I can't have someone with criminal tendencies watching over me! Or could I? This could be the prefect plan. I will dig deep for hidden fat and allow myself an opportunity to break free of her....when the time is right. Look out!